Game Theory × NH

006 | carbon

× Mercury

Fucking Niall.

I was alone in the locker room, stomping my cleats across the tiled flooring to my locker on the other end. My hip hurt like hell but I refused to pay any attention to the pain shooting down my thigh. I tugged my tank top off and stood in front of my locker and did the combination lock.

My hands were shaking with anger so turning the dials on the lock was nearly impossible - it didn't really help that the locks were pretty old and usually took me two tries to get it in the first place. After the fourth time, I gave up and released a frustrated sigh and sat on the bench, taking off my shoes, socks, and shin guards.

I probably wasn't supposed to leave the pitch without gathering with the girls and having Coach talk to us first, but I was so ticked off that I didn't even care (even though it was probably a really, really bad idea to get on Coach's bad side). The game ended with us losing and I wasn't in the mood to get lectured, no matter what punishment might come later.

By the time I had taken the quickest shower in my life, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, I had calmed down a bit. But only a bit. The girls started coming into the locker room when I was about to leave.

"Coach wants to see you," Emily said as she passed by me.

"I figured she would."

I waited for the girls to get through the door before leaving and walking back onto the pitch. All the boys were gone, probably went into the men's locker room to change. Coach Sharp was standing by the bench picking up her things when I got to her. I figured it was best to deal with Coach's wrath sooner than later.

"You were asking for me?"

"Yes," she said shortly, picking up her clipboard. "Follow me to my office; I need to talk to you."

I've known Coach Sharp since I was thirteen, so I thought I had learned all sides of her in those seven years. But as I stood there looking at Coach I realized that I may never know every side to her, because the look she was giving me then - face blank from any kind of emotion, lips in a thin line, eyes looking right through me - I was scared. I've never been afraid of Coach in my life, which was probably why I was so hesitant to follow her through the arena and to her office.

Leaving the field after the scrimmage game without talking to Coach Sharp shouldn't have created her stony look. Something else was going on...

"You took a pretty nasty fall on the field today," Coach was saying, her blue eyes landing on me. She was wearing a white fleece jacked that was zipped down to reveal a black shirt that matched her leggings. Her whistle lay flat against her chest as we continued down the hall. "Are you okay? How's your ankle?"

"Fine," I said callously. There was a nasty looking bruise on my hip but I wasn't going to mention that to her. I understood that Coach was just looking out for me - she was always looking out for me - but it was getting a little annoying, so I lied. "I'm fine."

Coach nodded, understanding that I didn't want to talk about it.

She got to her office and opened the door. Coach Mathews was sitting in one of the chairs across from Coach Sharp's desk and I froze in the doorway. I didn't pause because I momentarily forgot how good looking he actually was, but because he wasn't alone.

Niall sat in the chair next to the coach, looking bored as he scrolled through his phone. He barely even looked at me when we entered.

Just being in the same room with him made my blood boil.