My name was being called from the familiar voice. It kept echoing until my tired eyes open. The bright florescent lights of the classroom make me squint. Somebody stood in front of me, but my vision was too blurry to see who it was. I slowly sit up straight in my desk, looking around only to see more bright light from the sun outside the window.
Finally, I realize that I'm in an empty classroom. I gasp checking the time to see that I was going to be late for my next class. I was about to grab my things so I could leave, but I was stopped. The same person who woke me up blocked my way. My eyes travel up their body and our eyes lock. I look up into sparkling green eyes as he glared down at me.
"Only my third week here and I've already bored you to sleep, huh Eversteen?"
"I- uh- I'm so sorry, Coach."
He shrugs, then stared me down again. "You can make it up to me with ten miles after practice today."
I rub my sleepy eyes, nodding as I gathered my things. "Yes, coach. I-I'm sorry."
"Yeah, yeah," he sighs, walking away to his own desk. "Just hurry up, clean that drool and leave before you're late to your next class because I won't vouch for you with your next teacher." he tosses a roll of napkins then sits back in his chair.
The dreams I had of him were the complete opposite of how he is in reality. I was annoyed with myself for having these fantasy dreams of an asshole like him. I tear the napkins off the roll, showing my annoyance toward him. I look up at him and he watched me with his feet kicked up on his desk. After I was finished, I set the roll on his desk with a little more attitude than I expected. He didn't say anything, so I just walk toward the exit.
"Hey Eversteen," he calls me and I slowly turn around. "We'll be adding another mile for all that attitude you have. It'll be good to run it off."
I force a smile. "Yes coach."
One step out the door, the bell rings and I roll my eyes continuing my path because there was no point in begging for a pass. After getting through my next classes, I immediately go look for Monique during lunch. I find her at her locker and I jump by her side.
"Oh my god, Rylee!" she breathes out. "You scared the living shit out of me, what's wrong with you?" she laughs, shutting her locker then leans against it waiting for my response.
"I had another dream about coach." I tell her. "He was this very sweet guy, we had problems, steamy stuff happens and blah blah blah." I rant on.
"Oh Rylee," she wriggles her eyebrows. "That's like your fifth dream about our steaming hot coach. Not counting the last two weeks either."
"Shut up," I playfully smack her arm, giggling. "I don't understand because he's a complete asshole in real life, but whenever these dreams come up, I feel like I'm so in love."
"Woah, Rylee." she frowns. "That's a bit much. He's your coach and also your teacher, so calm down and keep your distance."
"Monique!" I squeal softly. "I'm not planning on doing anything. The fact that he is a teacher makes him unattractive along with his shit personality. Coach Styles is just another asshole teacher."
"Well, I hope you enjoy your time with this asshole with a shit personality later while you run your twelve miles." Coach Styles appears next to us, smirking down at me. "And we won't leave until you're finished."
"Twelve?" I gasp. "You mean eleven?"
He shakes his head. "I think twelve will justify."
