"Oh yes you do," he chases after me and I run to the board with the teams written on it.
I read it over before Ben reaches me, "MTA North fury," I say flabbergasted with a huge smile on my face.
"I used to live there. I have MTA South blaze," I hear Nick read out loud behind me. I didn't even notice he was there. He used to live where my team plays? And he's coaching their opposite team.
I read further into the description, "were town rivalries," we say almost in unison. I turn to face Ben with a smirk to find him doing the same thing.
"This," he says, "is going to be fun."
I grin at him, "may the best team, and coach, win."
"You're on note taker."
"You got it red head." I reply laughing.
He rubs a hand over his buzzed cut hair.
"It's lovely isn't it?" He does a pose with one hand on his hip and one behind his head puckering his lips, "how do I look coach?" He asks trying to sound like a girl.
"Dashing. Picture perfect Ben."
"You finally called me by Ben!" I quirk one of my eye brows at him, "you always use Benjamin."
I shrug, "I don't know, Benjamin has a ring to it. And it bothers you so, I'm killing two birds with one stone."
"Two birds with one stone?"
"It's a metaphor. You wouldn't understand." I say chuckling to myself, "well I should get going. I'm in the mood for coffee."
"I'm joining you for that coffee." He interjects.
"Who says?" I ask. Even if part of me has a weird wanting for him to come for some reason, he is pretty annoying. But I feel like I've known him for a long time now.
"I say." He replies, "let's go, I'll follow you there with my car."
"I didn't drive here I took the bus." He smirks then starts to skip to the door.
"I'll drive us both then, everybody vomenos' everybody let's go!" I jog after him running out the door. Was singing Dora songs really necessary Ben?
"Slow down I hate running." I say out of breath already. One thing about soccer players, we may run in games but in life, you can forget about that. At least in my case.
I spot Ben leaning on a black jeep across the parking lot swinging his car keys around his fingers, "sprint here." He challenges.
I glare at him, "I don't even like walking in general. Now how do you think I feel about sprinting Benjamin?" I finally reach him. He opens the car door for me and I quickly mumble a thank you before he shuts it after I get in.
I hear the car door beside me open and close, "seat belt?" He looks at me. I'm too distracted by a soccer pin on a lanyard I see dangling from his rear view mirror to do so, so he leans over me, grabs the seat belt and buckles it for me. I look up to him as he is still leaning over me and meet eyes with his green ones. "Sorry," he mumbles looking away, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. I wish that moment lasted longer. I think to myself. I don't know why I feel that way but I did. I like having Ben close. I look over at him and he catches me staring.
"What?" He asks.
I look away and then out the window leaning my elbow on it, "nothing."
"Oh this song is my jam!" He shouts and turns up the song on the radio, "turn down for what?!" He shouts then buts his head to the beat. I start to laugh at his dorky singing and dancing skills. "What now? Something against singing?"
YOU ARE READING
The CoachTeen Fiction
Rachel Williams, twenty year old soccer player, is excited to start her first day of being the coach to an all boys U13-U14 soccer team after choosing not to take a girls team. At training, her and a boy named Ben Luebke catch eachothers attention a...