soccer / Jack Johnson

practice

practice was fucking brutal.

Sprints. Drills. Suicides.

And to make it fucking better, it was 95 degrees out.

Since fucking Ethan decided to do shortcuts on the drills now we had to run 6 figure 8 laps with a ball. Fuck me.

I was currently on lap # 4 and slowly dying of exhaustion.

Staying near the back of the group I stopped for a second to catch my breathe, only to get shoved in the shoulder to stumble and fall on my butt.

I heard a few chuckles as Johnson and Gilinsky sprinted away like it was nothing.

Scoffing, I quickly stood up and began sprinting after them, passing Bradley and Jake, and many others on the way.

As I finally neared The jacks , I quickly kicked the ball from under johnson and as he went to take a touch, he slipped on the mud and face planted. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks and burst out laughing at him.

I felt bad, only slightly.

Johnson roughly pushed himself up and groaned.

"Shut the fuck up!" He yelled loudly and everyone stopped yelling. He walked toward me, everyone's eyes on us.

"Listen, y/n , I don't know who the fuck you think you are. Just because you're a girl doesn't mean I'm gonna take it easy on you. Watch your back." He said pushing me onto the ground.

"alright ... Uh practice is over." Sam said scratching his head awkwardly.

I pushed myself off the ground and rushed into the girls locker room.

•••

Why was johnson such a fucking prick?