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It was still inexcusable, but I understood.
The night was quiet, no threat of a warm Miami rainstorm, and with Rhys looking as lost as I felt, a calmness came over me. He was just as nervous as I was, and it made him seem more human, and less hero. It was somehow giving me a little comfort.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and rolled my neck, giving him time to figure out where we were going to start. Little did I know, that would be the last normal breath I took around Rhys.
A gasp escaped my chest and throat, pain in my stomach seeming to come from nowhere. I doubled over, grabbing my midsection, and tried to get the breath back into my lungs.
Glancing up, I saw Rhys with his hands on his hips as he watched me, and then I looked down at the ball lying next to my feet. The same ball he had just been kicking.
“Did you just kick that at me?” I yelled, my anger bubbling over, and still in pain from the slap the ball made against my thin shirt.
“Coach said you need to work on paying attention,” Rhys shrugged. “You didn't even see that coming.”
“You son of a bitch!” I screamed back, fully aware that I was closing the book on my college career. There was no way Coach would let me keep playing if I couldn’t cut it with Rhys’ help.
“You can talk about me,” he smiled. “even talk about my brother if you need to–hell, I will give you insults to use and we can both giggle at him. But let’s leave my mom out of this.” His voice was even and unbothered, not matching the words coming out of his mouth. He made me want to laugh and cry, all at the same time—a feeling that I hadn’t yet realized he would be giving me a lot.
Whiplash.
“What the hell did you do that for?”
“You weren’t paying attention.”
“I was waiting for you to ‘coach me’ you piece of shit.”
“You’re a senior player at a division one college. You wouldn’t be here if you needed to be told, or coached, on what to do.”
“I’m sorry, then why are you here again? Help me out, because I’ve never had a sexy pro athlete show up to ‘teach’ me. I was unaware of where we were going with all this.” Dammit, that was the second time in a row I used air quotes with my fingers, and I already hated myself for it. But then it got worse as realization set in, and the actual words I’d spoken made my air quotes look like chump change.
The good news was, I no longer felt the pain in my stomach, just the knot in my chest as embarrassment made its way through me. Did I just call himsexyto his face? Even if he knew it, had heard it a million times, and was not bothered by it, I was mortified.
He acted like it was just another random Tuesday night. Relaxed and chill. Waiting on me to be over my meltdown. “You done?”
“Done what?” I yelled again, unable to control my anger–mostly at myself that time.
“Whatever it is you’re doing.”
“I’m not sure my scholarship is worth this.” I started toward the gate to the field, deciding to walk home and shower.
Five minutes of extra practice, and I was already turning into someone I wasn’t. I needed to get home, crunch numbers, and do equations. Something with correct answers to the questions being asked. I didn’t have room for confusion and doubt.
With what little self-preservation I had, I aborted the entire mission, and made peace with my decision. I would talk to Coach, tell him it didn’t work out. Maybe if I told him about being kicked with a ball, he’d understand.
No, Ash, he wouldn’t understand a soccer player complaining about being hit with a ball.
“It is,” I heard him say from behind me, making me filter back to what the hell we were even talking about.What did I say?
“Dammit!” I yelled again, as another ball hit me right in my ass. It hurt way less than the one to my stomach, but I spun around and charged back toward him, stopping only when I saw his smile widen across his face. His shoulders were shaking, laughter taking over his body. “What is your problem?”
“Nothing,” he said as he lifted his hands in surrender. “The first kick was to make you pay attention. That one was just for fun.”
“I’m not a target, asshole.”
“The first time a coach changed my life was after he kicked me in the gut with the ball, and told me to pay attention.”
“And you’re going to change my life?” I laughed humorlessly, shaking my head in disbelief.
“Starting now.” His eyes looked into mine and he got closer to my face, remnants of his laughter lingering in his eyes. He was a lot taller than I was, and he bent down so that our noses were a foot apart from each other. He repeated himself with a sincerity that made me want to stay put. Words that sounded like a gift. “Starting now.”
