Coach Styles

Four

The door clicked shut and he sat at his desk. The closed shutters on his windows made the small room dark and cold. He flipped the switch to a small lamp on his desk, immediately brightening up the atmosphere. He had shelves  lined against the back wall, occupied with trophies, books and photographs. There was one photograph in particular that stood out to me. It displayed a group of four people, they looked much like a family, perhaps they were. There was an elder woman and man, they looked like a couple with their hands around each other's waist. A gorgeous girl with blonde hair clutched onto her mothers hand, she looked no older than 18. Right at the end of the group of people stood a tall, teenage boy with brown curls and familiar green eyes. They looked so happy. They always had one another other to rely on. They always had a safe and cosy home to go to each night. A home where they'd be greeted with their siblings, mother and.. father. A home that I could only dream of.

"Take a seat" Coach Styles said, pointing to the leather chair in front of his desk.

I hesitated before quietly sitting down. I stared at my lap and twiddled with my fingers. I really didn't want to be here. How would he even be able to help me? It's not like he has a family that's fallen apart. It's not like he knows what it's like to grow up without a father. It's not like he has to go home to a drunk and screaming mother. For god sakes I don't even have siblings to go home to, I'm always alone. He wouldn't understand anything that I'm going through. He grew up with a loving family and always had a place to call home. He, unlike myself, actually had a childhood.

"It pains me to see you or anyone in this state", he frowned. "I don't want to force you to tell me what's wrong or to put you under any sort of pressure, but just know that I'm always here for you. I'll always be here to listen, to help you and to give advice. I know you hear it all the time but talking about your problems always helps. If you don't want me to be that person, I completely understand but let me know that your willing to cooperate so that I can find you the help that you need."

I internally chuckled to myself. Here was this man, practically a stranger, saying everything I've ever want to hear. I'm not complaining, I'm just surprised that these words aren't coming out of my mothers mouth. Surely you'd think a mother would say this to her daughter right? I honestly don't know why I act surprised, the only time my mother has shown any good emotion towards me was when I was born and even that didn't last long.

I cleared my throat, "I really appreciate that." I paused, "no one has ever reached out to me like that before".

"Really? Well that's a shame" he frowned.

"Coach Sty-" I began but was quickly cut off by him.

"Harry, just call me Harry" he smiled.

"Harry" I continued, "I don't expect you to understand any of this but I guess you're the only person I have to talk to about it." I bit my lip, contemplating if I should really tell him what's on my mind. I sighed, "my.. my father. He works with the military and", I took a deep breath, "and he's been absent for more than 2 years now. He isn't supposed to come back home for another year and it just hurts. It hurts so god damn much. I miss him so much and going to a place everyday after school that I can't even call home makes it even worse." I blurted out. Tears began to roll down my already tear-stained cheeks.

His eyes filled with sympathy. "Oh Arabella, I had no idea. That sounds awful sweety, I don't know how you've been able to hold it in for so long." His voice was soft. So soft.

"Yeah well you can hide a lot behind a smile" I whispered to myself although I was pretty sure Harry had heard me as he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Look, I know how you feel. I know the pain and the struggle you go through everyday, I kno-" I cut him off,

"Pft, don't try and tell me you know how I feel. You don't know what it feels like to go home and feel so alone. My father was the only good thing in my life and now he's gone; don't try and tell me you know what that pain feels like" I huffed. What was the point of this? Why am I telling this stranger about my life story when he can't even relate? This is pointless. I stood abruptly before saying, "you know what, never mind, I shouldn't have said anything. Let just pretend this never happened". I made my way to the door when he spoke up,

"Arabella wait!" He yelled. "Arabella!" but still I ignored him. My hands twisted the door knob when he spoke up again, "my father died in a car accident 4 years ago" he blurted out. My body went stiff. My jaw dropped and my chest immediately filled with remorse. I turned to face him and his face was bright red. He looked shocked with himself when he said those haunting words.

"W-what?" I gasped.

He sighed. "It's true. It happened one winters night 4 years ago. The roads were icy, and, well, you can pretty much guess how the story ends", his gaze remained on the desk.

I sat on the comfy leather seat once again and looked at him with sympathy, "I'm so so sorry Harry", I whispered. I didn't know what to say, what could I say?

He nodded and looked up. "When I say I know how you feel, I really do know. You can trust me, okay? The pain you're going through now is the same pain I went through 4 years ago. But I'm better now, I repaired myself bit by bit and I want to help you do the same." His words were soothing. I suddenly felt so comfortable opening up to him. Knowing that he experienced a similar childhood as mine lifted a huge weight from my shoulders. Of course I'd never wish for Harry or anyone to go through something like that but knowing that he did made him so much more relatable and.. and it felt like I could rely on him.

My thoughts were interrupted by the loud bell, indicating that lunch break was over. I sighed before standing. "Thank you, really. This helped" I smiled.

He smiled back, "I'm glad I could help. If you want..." he paused and then rambled, "if you want, we can continue these little 'sessions'. Only if you want to though. I don't want to pressure you or make you fee-", I cut him off,

"I'd love to"

"Great", his eyes sparkled.

I made my way out of his office and towards my next class. My heart felt warm and a goofy smile was plastered across my face. It was funny how only a small chat with Harry made me so giddy and happy. I've never felt so exposed to someone before, I told him everything. But it was odd, I did not feel scared or anxious; I felt safe and.. loved?

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Sorry for the late update, I've been very busy with school and assignments and all that boring stuff. Hope you enjoyed x