Coach Styles |HS|

1.

"Kick higher, Monica!" Coach Hicks
yelled as we did our warm ups. The fire in my lungs started to spread and I slowed down to a complete stop and placed my hands on my knees. Coach Hick's whistle sounded and I jumped, looking up at her and frowning as a the crease in her brows increased. "Eastwood, bench." She called out to me. I huffed and walked back to the bench slowly, ignoring the stares, smirks and snickers of my fellow soccer players.

For the rest of practice my ass was planted on the bench and my eyes were glued to the filed as everyone practiced. I couldn't help the fact that the warm ups were killer and Coach Hicks was not a sympathetic person. "Huddle up!" Her gravely voice called as she blew her whistle. I stood up off the bench and walked onto the field, pulling my hair out of my face and stuffing my hands in the pockets of my jacket. "As you all know, or, some of you," she breathed licking her lips. "I have fallen ill." She swallowed. Some gasps could be heard and a few murmurs among the team, but I kept a solemn face. I knew Coach Hicks was sick. How sick was still unknown.

"I will be flying to seattle this weekend for treatment in a facility. Sadly, I will be missing your first game." She said sadly. The disappointment was evident in the the teams voices as some of them sucked their teeth and even went as far as crying. "I know you'll miss me," She tried to smile. "But I cannot continue to coach the team. My sickness is more serious than I made it out to be, and I will be retiring as of tomorrow." She said looking down. I pursed my lips as the team fell silent and Coach Hicks let her eyes rest on us once again. "My replacement will be here next practice." She frowned.

"Who's replacing you?" Dahlia dared to ask. Dahlia was my best friend on the team I suppose. She was the only one I truly got along with, only because she was the easiest to get along with.

"Someone younger and more...strict I hope." She smiled. I groaned at the thought and Coach Hicks eyes snapped to mine. "Is there a problem, Eastwood?" She asked. I swallowed my combative comment and looked away. I didn't want to argue, I didn't have the energy. "As I was saying," she huffed, "His name is Coach Styles. He is a successful soccer coach from New York and he will be transferring here to coach you all." She said looking at each of us. "I am sorry that this was dumped on you this sudden, but this is something I cannot control and it is now out of hands and in the hands of God. Go change." She said softly.

"Not you, Eastwood."

I froze in place as she spoke those words. I had no clue what it is that she wanted me for, but by the determined look in her eye I had a feeling it was not good. Coach Hicks has never pulled me aside before, she practically avoided me at any given chance. "Yes, Coach?" I asked making my way toward her. Dahlia rose an eyebrow before sauntering away with the rest of the team and I chewed on my lip.

"Don't give the new coach as hard of a time as you've given me." She said clearing her throat. I never knew that I was giving her a hard time. Coach Hicks and I have barely had interaction since I've joined the team in my freshman year. She was nice to the other girls, but always seemed on edge with me and I never knew why. Dahlia said it was because she felt like I was better than other girls at the sport, but I could not agree with that. Sure, I was good, but I wasn't that good and everyone knew it. Including Coach Hicks.

"I won't." I mumbled spinning around and walking off the field. I heard Coach Hicks release a heavy sigh and I did the same. I didn't bother changing out of my practice clothes. I grabbed my bag and patted Dahlias shoulder as I walked out of the locker room and to my car that was parked in the schools lot. My eyes caught something in the midst, a black care parked next to mine and a man standing beside it smoking a cigarette. His eyes met mine and he gave a small nod. I returned it with half effort and pulled out of the lot and towards my home.