It All Began With A Song [Editing]

Chapter 6: A Not-So-Happy News

Try-outs have flown by fast like turning pages in a book without reading it and have ended just as quick. After the first try-out, I have stayed and continued to practice tennis. Seth comes and helps me, telling me some tips about it. (He searches it on Google because he knows absolutely nothing about tennis.) I improve a little, but not enough. The reason is that on the second try-out, I hit the ball, but with too much force, which makes it go over the fence that is guarding the court. However, for the third try-out, nothing weird happens, other than I keep missing some shots and drop my racket a few times. Everyone, including the tough violent girl are impressed with my improvement. Still, the two coaches aren't convinced.

That worries me a lot.

So when the school intercom announces that the member's list for tennis was taped on the cafeteria door, it's not surprising that I feel like barfing out the breakfast and lunch I had earlier.

Oh no. I bet I'm not in there. Oh boy. This is bad. This is so bad. This is so very bad.

Since they have announced exactly one hour before the final bell rang for the end of the school day, my uneasiness is slowly eating me up as time slips by. This only makes gym class hard for me because I'm not really concentrating, much less paying attention to what's happening around me.

Coach Henderson had to give me a speech after class saying that I should "look around and see what the other students were doing" and "I should be ashamed of myself for not participating the game."

Coach, you need to understand that I, as any normal teenage girl in high school, simply do not enjoy being hit in the head when you play sports. Plus, my whole body aches from all the tennis practicing. And can I please go? I really need to see the results of the try-out!

Granting my wish, he concludes his speech with "Okay, you may go." Muttering a quick bye to him, I hurry out of the hot, smelly gym and to you-know-where.

Why is the hallway so long today?!

With my book bag on top of my aching back, it only makes running harder than ever. My high pony tail hair swings eastward and westward along the way -- I am practically racing with the wind. What feels like hours later, I finally reach my destination. There aren't a lot of people there, only about three guys and two girls, but I'm not astonished about not seeing Seth here; he has stated that he will be waiting outside in the parking lot for my so-called "good news." I walk up to the list and scanned the names.

First Strings: My name is nowhere there. Disappointment is slowly forming inside my body as I continue to read down the list of names for the first strings. Taking a deep breath, I read down to the second strings. There, in the very bottom with an asteroid labeled at the end of it, was my name.

Oh my cotton candies! I made it!

I restrain myself from jumping up and down; however, my smile soon disappears when I see what the asterisk means.

Please go see Coach Evans as soon as possible.

As I head my way to Coach Evans's classroom (Not too far from the cafeteria), my feet gradually starts to feel wobbly, like they'll fall out of my body any second. The classroom door is closed, but the lights are still on, so I'm positive that he's in the room. Hesitantly, I slowly raise my hand, form it into a fist to knock on the door. Before I can, I hear someone sneak up behind me.

"Hello sugar cane," a familiar smoky voice whispers behind my exposed ear, his hot breath tickling my neck. Flabbergasted, I instantly freeze like a statue and my other hand grips onto my book bag. There's only one person in this world who calls me that -- Chase Parker. He then walks up beside me, "Congratulations on making the team." My eyes widens and my mouth opens slightly into an 'O' shape as I stare, dumbfounded, at him.

Is he actually complimenting me?!

He must have seen my aghast expression because he says, "Yoo hoo? Are you okay?" He does a waving motion with his hand, up and down, up and down.

"Did you hurt your head today? Or did you take the wrong medicine today?" I blurt out, still not accepting the fact that Chase Parker had just said something nice to me.

What happened to the jerky him?

He burst into laughter, his emerald eyes twinkling with beguilement, "Sugar cane, you are a true comedian. First, at sports." I frowned, did he have to mention that?! "Then at this."

The door suddenly opens; standing in front of us and towering over me (Not Chase because he, of course, is about the same height as Seth) is Coach Evans. "I thought I heard someone. Come in please."

We walk in the room and I peer around. There's a gigantic map of the USA posted on the bulletin board next to the newly polished white board in front of the room. To the right, is his desk, and like most of the coaches that I've had as a teacher, it's a horrid mess. Papers are stacked and spread out everywhere -- some even sprawled across the floor. Textbooks are piled up in the far back corner, where four computers sit on a long rectangular table. There's a total of five rows of desks, each with a US History textbook placed on top of it.

"You two are probably wondering why I asked for you to come here. Well, first off. Natalie, I'm a open and honest coach," Coach Evans stands in front of the white board as we are beside his disorganized desk, "so I will say that the only reason I put you as the second stringer was because there wasn't enough people for the team. But, I also chose you in the team because I saw that you were a hard worker, and you did improve."

I knew it. I'm terrible at tennis.

But at least you got into the team. The small voice reminds me.

Yea, I did improve a litt --

"...I want you to teach her before and after the season begins."

Wait, what?! Chase?! Teach me?! No thanks!

"When do we start?" Chase interrogates as he crosses his arms, completely unfazed by the fact that he has to teach the world's worst tennis player. Also, he seems more serious than his previous behavior.

Does he do that in front of all adults?

Um..... how about never? That sounds better!

"Well, I would say the sooner the better. Since the season starts in March, start teaching her tomorrow, if it's possible. That gives you both a month and a half." Coach reaches for his water bottle from his desk and gulps down the liquid in there.

One month and half?! That's more than enough! Why does it have to be Chase? Why can't it be someone else?! And did you all forget that I'm here in this room, listening to the "her" you all are talking about?!

"Okay, I'll teach her." Chase responds, his lips in a grim line. "What do you say, Natalie Ryals?"

Unwillingly, I answer by nodding my head because I know that it's either him teaching me or out of the team.

Life is unfair. But then again, it always was like that.

Seth Carter, just wait until I win this challenge.

Song: "Problem" by Ariana Grande ft. Iggy Azalea

A/N: Eh, shortish chapter, I'll try to make the next one longer (maybe, who knows :P) Anways, comment and vote? :D