**completed**
HIGHEST RANKINGS:
#1 IN FICTION
#1 IN SLOWBURN
#1 IN COLLEGE
Penn State University.
Home to the craziest sorority girls, most obnoxious football players, and a girl that's trying to dig her way out of her parent's mess.
Naomi Black wa...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Matti Williams
"Annabelle! You throw with your right–not your left!" I blew the whistle at her as she got sacked by one of Blake's boys. I jogged over to her across the field as Blake leaned over the top of her.
Blake and I had just returned from our freshman year at Penn State, we were helping our local elementary school's football team practice. These dads weren't cutting it for the coaching staff.
Blake leaned over her, while I crouched down, pulling her helmet off her head.
"Are you crazy!" I exclaim as she chuckles.
"Yes. I don't want to throw up." I narrowed my eyes. "Well just because you don't want to throw doesn't mean you can go on a suicide mission and have these big boys tackle you!" I try to reason with her.
Blake looked down at us before nodding, "Let's huddle!" He yelled at the team as he gave her a fist bump still laying on the turf.
I sat down, next to her as she laid, helmet to the side.
"I can't let you kick," I state as she narrows her eyes at me.
"Why?" She asks as I sigh. "Annabelle! I already have a kicker!" I tried to explain, but she sat up shaking her head.
"No. Colton can't even kick a yard! I can kick from the fifty! This is an uneven playing field!" She argued with me as I raised my eyebrows at her.
"Annabelle. No." I deny her as she groans.
"But Coach Matti–I just want to kick! What if your kid wanted to play a sport and you wouldn't let them!" She stated as I shrugged. "Easy, I'm not having kids at the moment and if I had a rebellious daughter like you she wouldn't even leave the house!" She laughed at me as I gave her a pat on the back.
"You're not kicking," I state as her smile drops.
"Yes. I. Am." She glares at me as I shake my head.
I was never having kids.
Ever.
"You're going to throw a right fake, okay? You pass the ball to Johnny, so he can run it in the endzone. We will kick the ball–" She cuts me off.
"I will kick the ball." I roll my eyes.
"Bench," I state.
And that's when she grabbed her helmet and stormed over to the bench, slamming her body down onto it.
Good. She needed to realize that a coach will never like her if all she does is argue. It's impossible to get work done if your quarterback isn't listening.
Blake froze in the middle of his huddle, watching the tiny blonde cuss me out while walking over to the bench. He called for the rest of the boys to get water as he walked over to me.
