Training

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I woke up and my mind immediately thought "EARTHQUAKE!"

Then I realized that it was just Dylan, shaking me really, really hard. 

"WHAT THE HECK DO YOU WANT?" I said, sitting up and clutching my racing heart. 

"I want you to wake up." he said, sitting on my bed. 

"How early is it?" I mumbled, disoriented. 

He checked his phone and said "6:32."

"6:32 AM?" I asked helplessly.

"Yes. We're late." he said, ripping my blankets off of me and then grabbing my hand and pulling me out of bed. 

He left my room with only a "Meet me outside in ten. Don't you dare be late." 

I stumbled over to my closet, grabbed all of my equipment and stuff, and then got ready. 

Lastly, I grabbed my ball and dribbled it down the stairs and out into the backyard. Dylan was setting up the goal and some cones in different odd formations. 

He looked up from his work momentarily, to throw me a power bar and said "Breakfast, enjoy." 

I caught it easily and unwrapped it as he continued to work. 

"What're you doing?" I asked, taking a bite.

"Setting up cones to help train you. I mean, you clearly dominate better on the left side of the field but you are right footed so you need to find the perfect trajectory to shoot. But only if- well then..." he trailed off, lost in distracted thought.  His forehead was creased and he began mumbling as I continued to eat. Finally, he and I both finished and he called me over. 

"Where did you learn to do all this?" I asked, immensely fascinated that he seemed so ultra focused on something, unlike usual. 

"I just really like strategy." he said, his eyes glowing a little in excitement. "And soccer." he tacked on as an afterthought. 

"Well same but damn!" I said in appreciation. He looked at me harshly and raised an eyebrow. 

"Dang*." I said in a bored voice, and he smiled. 

"Thats better. Now lets start." 

The practice began and was interrupted many times with yells of

"KOTA WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

"NO THATS ALL WRONG!"

"WHERE DID YOU LEARN HOW TO KICK A SOCCER BALL?"

I think they call that tough love. But I wasn't feeling the love.

He directed me through bunch of drills, of which I only recognized half, and hours later, he announced that we were done. I left the field immediately and grabbed my water before walking inside and falling onto the couch. Because Nick was sitting there too and my head touched him apparently, he jumped up and said "EW! You're all sweaty and disgusting." 

"Sorry." I breathed out in a huge breath. Talen from the other side of the couch said "Also, your face is pretty red."

"Thanks I noticed." I said somewhat annoyed. At this point, Dylan walked into the room and pulled me to my feet. 

"If you bend them right now, your legs will cramp up." he said, knowingly. 

"I don't care." I said, dropping down onto the carpet, but this time extending my legs fully so they wouldn't.

"What did you guys do out there?" Blake asked, watching from the kitchen. 

"Soccer." Dylan said, with a duhhhh tone. 

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