Meet The Coach

Meet The Coach

I timidly clutched my books close to my chest, looking around making sure I drew no attention. I walked through the chaotic corridors of my new high school. Bree Opal the newbie. Well, I couldn't really be the newbie if I was born and bred here, even though no one knew me. I was 4 years old before moving away.

I dodged all the bodies that I deemed too close, luckily I could because of my small and short frame but not for long. I accidentally, or maybe he purposely, caused a collision of the two of us. It wasn't anything extravagant, my books fell onto the ground causing me to curse under my breath. I debated if I should just leave them there but decided against it. I kneeled down and picked up the books one by one before standing back up, glancing at the guy I bumped into.

I wish I didn't. The smirk he had plastered on his generous lips remarked nothing but trouble. So I didn't dare look at his other features. I mumbled an apology and skirted around him, or so I had planned.

I don't know if a mushy, teenage girl had decided to write the next part of my life because the smirking guy gripped my arm gently triggering thousands of sparks to penetrate through my skin, it caused me to freeze involuntarily. He pulled me back and placed me in front of him.

He was still smirking.

"So you're the new girl huh?" He chided. I wanted to reply with something sarcastic but then didn't. I don't need enemies on my first day.

"Yep," I replied quietly, yet audibly for his ears. Why am I so shy?

"What's your name?" What is it to you?

"Bree."

"I'm Carter, so tell me Bree why are you so shy? I don't bite." Did I even ask for your name? And why would you ask a shy person why they are shy? As if they would tell you... It's completely pointless.

I stared at him for a long minute before I shrugged. "I need to get to my lesson," I voiced unsurely.

He cocked his eyebrow like he was genuinely intrigued with something. Pfft, as if. "So you do utter more than a single syllable."

Well no shit Sherlock.

I continued to stare, this time I met his blue eyes. They were as blue as the ocean on a sunny day or maybe as blue as stolen sapphires, completely and utterly breath-taking.

I sighed softly, so much for having my dull, blue eyes. "Well, we wouldn't want to get you late. Let me know if you need anything. I'm sure I could be of assistance," he crooned, a wink followed. Is he trying to flirt? Because I have some good news for him if he wants to fail, he's definitely winning.

"Okay, bye," I muttered, tearing myself from his grip and walking down the nearly empty corridor. Fortunately, it didn't take me long to find the classroom however, I was slow enough for Carter to be sitting comfortably in his seat talking to fellow classmates.

I sat near the front on an unclaimed seat, I was next to a girl who looked like she had just walked out of a Vogue magazine shooting. She was, however, smiling happily as opposed to a duck-lipped pout.

The teacher came in and asked for the class' attention, the single call made the classroom into a deserted graveyard, the atmosphere became completely still with not even the slightest sound.

Mr Grove, (coincidence that it's close to grave? I think not) was one of those strict teachers. The one who never seemed to laud a student apart from an occasional 'good' or 'well done'. The type of teacher you hate at first sight.