Straight To You

ten

Although I really just want to go home, I walk toward the football field once school ends like my father wants me to. I'm wondering what my dad could possibly want to talk about just as I mindlessly step into a mud puddle. I look down at my now dirt-stained shoes and let out a huff of irritated breath. Now my sweatshirt is stained and my shoes are dirty. Awesome.

I cross my arms over my chest and walk faster in the direction of the football field, ready to get into my new car and drive home. Its been a long day and it still isn't over yet. At least this day couldn't possibly get any worse, right?

Just as that last thought passes through my mind, Jack walks past me with one of his football buddies. I'm hoping he'll just keep walking and pay me no attention, but of course he has to notice me.

"Scott!" Jack cries, grinning as he slows to my pace, as if I want to walk with him.

"Crawford," I mutter with an eye roll in greeting, unsure of what else to say.

"Scott, this is Chris," Jack tells me, gesturing to the dark-haired, dark-eyed boy with warm chocolate skin standing next to him. "Chris, this is Morgan Scott."

"Oh," Chris mutters in realization, raising his eyebrows as he studies me closely. "The coach's daughter?"

"Yep," I admit, plastering a fake smile across my lips as I try my best to remain polite. "That's me."

Chris and Jack proceed to share a look, and I watch curiously as Jack glares at Chris with eyes wide in warning. Chris merely smirks and looks away, trying to hold back a grin. I narrow my eyes as I watch the scene before me unfold, wondering what they're thinking. It's almost like they know something I don't, and I don't like watching people have silent conversations right in front of me.

"Hey," Chris says to me after a moment, finally including me in the loop. "I hear you play ball. You any good?"

I shoot Chris a skeptical glance as I mutter, "I'm the coach's daughter. Are you seriously asking me that question?"

"Fair enough," Chris admits, shrugging with one shoulder as a small smile crosses his features. "But I won't believe it until I see it."

"Why?" I snap, the slightest bit annoyed. "Because I'm a girl?"

"No," Chris is quick to correct, shaking his head before adding, "because I wanna see you play." He then tosses the football in his hand at me with no warning, almost catching me off guard. Thankfully, he doesn't. I don't even blink as I catch the ball, not looking to see where my aim is placed as I chuck the ball toward the field in front of us. I'm a good few yards away, so even I'm impressed when the ball makes it into the hands of a blond boy standing on the edge of the field.

Jack and Chris stare at me wide-eyed for a moment, their shocked expressions making me smirk in satisfaction. It's not every day I get to show off the football skills my father taught me, and it's nice to think that I still have some talent even if I'm a little rusty.