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Thursday morning was the morning I rethought my whole life. Is volleyball worth my sleep? I love volleyball and I don't know what I'd do without it, so I guess it is.

My alarm blares throughout my room. I debate on whether to go to school today or not. I thought of the rest I would be getting if I didn't. I decide to stay in and text coach. I close my eyes, drifting back to sleep.

A few hours later, I wake up feeling refreshed. My dog was still laying next to me. The sun was shining through my window from across the room and above my bed. I get up from my bed and go to the bathroom. I was glad I stayed in today because I needed the rest.

I was home alone because my parents go to work and my older bother has classes at this time. I make it back to my bed and grab my phone. My screen was full of messages from Monique and other team members. I open up my texts and immediately go to Monique's message.

Monique: Coach is very mad at you.
Monique: He discussed with me about your punishment for skipping the workout.
Monique: I'm just giving you a warning. Be prepared on Saturday morning.

My heart beats fast at these messages. The other messages were of angry players because they had to run my laps. They didn't say anything of my punishment. I scroll down to the texts from coach.

Coach: You will make up your workout.

I'm not going to lie, I was scared. Even though it was a text, I can tell he was angry.

For the rest of the day, I try ignoring the situation, but I couldn't. I was scared of what he had in stored for me.

-

"Next time, don't miss practice because you're too tired." Coach mocks as I do countless squats.

"Sorry coach," I apologize.

"I'm tired of you apologizing for your mistakes." he says sternly. "I want you to learn from them."

"I won't ever miss practice for no good reason again." I promise him. "Can I stop now?" I beg, feeling the burning sensation in my thighs.

Coach looks at his watch, and nods. "Stretch once more and run some more laps."

I stand up straight, raising my leg up to stretch the ache that was appearing. I whimper at the pain, looking up at coach who had no expression on his face. He watches me suffer while I stretch.

"Get to running now." he orders.

I jog to the end of the court and start jogging across. I was about to die right here and now. The pit of my stomach burned and I was breathing hard. Sweat trickled down my forehead and my skin was clammy. After a few more laps, he finally lets me stop.

"Are we done?" I whine, lifting my shirt up to wipe the sweat away.

"Yes, go shower." he says, gesturing me to leave.

I carry my aching body to the empty locker room. I pull out my shower essentials and head for the showers. I take my time in the shower because I loved the hot water beating on my skin.

Eventually, I had to get out. I quickly change into my casual everyday outfit. After pulling on my jeans, I search for my shirt. I dig through my bag to find it missing. I stand up straight, remembering I left it on the chair in my room.

I text everyone to see if they had an extra shirt in their locker, but everyone took their clothes to wash over the weekend. The only person I could ask was coach. I text him, but there was no response.

"What the hell am I going to do?" I ask myself, sitting on the bench.

I text Monique my situation and I know she's at work, but I couldn't talk to anyone else about this.

"Rylee?" I hear the familiar voice echo. "I've got a shirt for you."

I panic, standing up. I pull my towel over my shoulders even though it didn't cover the bottom half of my torso, I still went out. I walk down the hall to meet coach by the entrance. He was on his phone until he realized I was coming. His eyes travel from my bare stomach that was partly revealed to his eyes as he hands me a plain white t-shirt.

"You're lucky I have extras in my office." he says when I grab the shirt from him. I keep a tight grip on my towel and thank him. "Hurry now, I have somewhere to be."

I race back to the locker room and pull the big shirt over my head. It smelled really good for being an extra. It had a hint of cologne.

I look at myself in the mirror once more and see the redness in my face. I was blushing really hard from this and I didn't even know it. I cool myself down before throwing my gym bag over my shoulder and leaving the locker room.

Coach leads the way to his car in silence. I fiddle with my fingers, feeling his eyes on me whenever he stops the car.

"You can keep the shirt." he finally speaks at a red light. "I have plenty more."

"I-I don't really need it." I stutter when I make eye contact with him.

Why am I acting like this? He's you're teacher and coach Rylee. And that's all he'll be.

"What I'm saying is don't return it in front of the girls, okay?" he says, zooming off when the green light flashes. "I don't want rumors to start because I was nice enough to lend you a shirt."

"I'll give it back Monday morning when you pick me up." I tell him.

"No because I have to give Quinn a ride Monday as well." he informs me. "Just keep the shirt." he insists.

"Okay then," I say awkwardly.

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