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I scoff, turning a sharp glare on him as I feel the rest of the class watching on with interest, some with excited gleams sparkling in their eyes while the others look nervous to be involved with this bullshit. Colton though, he just looks bored and it’s as clear as day that he’s not going to do anything about this. Why should he though? As of last night, we’re at war.

“Shoving me into a dirty locker room with you fuckers is not gender equality. That’s taking a massive step back from equality but of course, you wouldn’t understand that because you’re a man. What you’re trying to achieve is just another privileged jerk taking advantage of a female who’s backed into a corner. If you really want to see a set of tits so bad, you have a phone. Look them up on porn hub because you won’t be seeing mine.” I turn back to Coach Sylvester. “And for the record, Milo is right. This is a sexual harassment case against a minor waiting to happen, and I can guarantee that your ass will be the one to burn for it.”

Coach Sylvester clenches his jaw before grabbing a set of keys from his back pocket. He unthreads an old key from the chain and shoves it into my hand. “You have three minutes to use the staff bathrooms. A second later and you fail my course. As for today, you’re going to sit out and look pretty. You’ve wasted enough of my time. You won’t be slowing down my game with your girly bullshit.”

With that he turns his back and stalks away, leaving me gaping after him as the guys chuckle and stalk back into the locker room.

“Are you okay?” Milo questions, his voice filled with concern and looking just as shook as I feel.

I nod my head, watching after Coach Sylvester with venom. “Yeah … I, um … yeah.”

“I can’t believe that dick thought he could get away with that,” he says, his tone filled with malice.

My eyes drop, unsure what I should be feeling. I’m an odd mix of humiliated, proud, upset, and disappointed and the feelings combined are messing with my head. I guess I expected more from the teachers. Not even the teachers were that low in Breakers Flats. There were certainly some shady ones but for the most part, they just wanted to see us do well and get out of Breakers Flats. I guess I assumed there was a higher standard here. Maybe teachers who had our backs no matter what genitals are hiding beneath our pants.

“Yeah,” I tell him, completely agreeing as I hold the uniform up to him. “I guess I’ll go and get dressed for my afternoon of sitting on the sidelines being a good for nothing girl who’s only going to slow the game down.”

“Shit, Ocean,” Milo sighs. “Give me two seconds to grab my shit. I’m coming with you and I swear, I won’t even peek at your titties no matter how curious I am.”

A smile pulls at my lips and I thank God for Milo in this very moment. Without that ridiculous comment, I fear I would have broken down in tears. “Curious?” I laugh. “What’s there to be curious about?”

He looks back at me as he makes his way to the locker room door. “You can’t tell me that if some chick had her vag out on display; lips, clit, sausage warmer and all, you’re not going to peek, at least a little?”

I think about it for all of three seconds before knowing that I would. Everyone would, it’s natural human curiosity. Everyone wants to know what someone else is packing. Hell, if Jude bent over in front of me right now to showcase his stinging ringer, I sure as hell would look even though it would most likely scar me for life.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Milo disappears inside the locker room and just as promised, he walks back out a moment later with his bag on his back, and an encouraging smile ripped across his handsome face. He leads me toward the staff bathroom and for the comment that prick of a coach made, I fully intend on keeping the key.

Milo and I duck inside the bathroom and I’m honestly surprised. It’s fancy as hell. There are three showers in a connecting room, toilets with doors rather than just stalls like the guys have, and not to mention a fancy as hell dressing area complete with hairdryers, straighteners, and towels that look more expensive than mom’s old car.

“Well, shit,” Milo says. “At least we now know why the fees are so damn high.”

I scoff under my breath and make my way into one of the toilets and close the door behind me. I deal with business and make quick work of getting dressed. The sports shorts coach gave me are about four sizes too big and droop under my knees, but it’ll have to do. There’s no way I’m going to back out. I’m showing my face on that soccer field and I’m doing it proudly.

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