When a homeschooled tennis player is asked to join a football team, will she be willing to put everything she's worked for at risk?
"Hey Wildcats! Get your head in the game!"
"That was awful."
"I thought it was hilarious!"
oc x oc
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"Can you teach me how to play tennis?" Eliza couldn't believe what she was hearing.
Spotted. Resident soccer player star seen walking a very red in the face Eliza back home after practice. Talk about sparks flying.
"You want to learn how to play tennis?"
Harris looked down at the girl, "I mean, yea. Take me through your whole training process. A day in the life of Eliza Gilroy. It can't be too hard if you can do it." Eliza's mouth dropped open, whacking the boy on the arm hard several times, "Okay, okay! I take it back!"
"I'm about to ruin tennis for you."
***
She was doing just that, "Come on, just it's running. We haven't even started the hard stuff yet!" She was running ahead of him, the boy barely being able to keep up with the speed she possessed, "The difference between a successful person and others is not in the lack of strength, not the lack of knowledge but a lack of will! My dad loves inspirational quotes."
"Fantastic." He huffed out.
***
"We are what we repeatedly do." She stood on his toes to make sure they didn't lift when he did the sit ups she was forcing on him, "Excellence, therefore, is not an act but a habit. Aristotle." Harris stopped of a second, his body not being able to cope with what he was going through, "West, let's go.
"Yea, well, Aristotle never had you for a coach!" He complained, starting his sit ups again.
"You asked me to take you through my day."
***
The next thing Harris knew, there was balls trying to hit him every chance they had as Eliza stood next to two machines that shot them in his direction, "If you're gonna go, why not go all the way?"
"I actually know that one! That was the Old Six Quarterback. Joe Namath." Harris seemed proud of himself as he tried to hit as many balls as he could with the racket, failing miserably.
Eliza smirked, "No, that was me!" She watched him in amusement, "Do you have any form whats so ever? Move your feet! You a little tired yet?"
He stopped for a second, panting before a ball flew straight into his stomach, "Ouch."
"Okay." She went to turn off the machines, the boy resting his hands on his knees in pain, "Wow, I thought-"
"No, no, no, no." He cut her off, "No more inspirational quotes. Please, I can't take it anymore. You do this every day?"
She shrugged while he climbed over the tennis net, "Then I go play soccer some days. That was not an impressive showing, West."
"Do you maybe wanna go get a little ice cream?"
"I actually don't eat ice cream." She admitted to him, looking at the tennis racket he lay on the floor.
"You don't like ice cream?"
"Well, I don't know. I've never had it."
Harris's eyes widened in disbelief at the words that came out of Eliza's mouth, "You've never had ice cream?" She shook her head, "Oh my god, are you like Oliver Twist or something? This is tragic."
"Hey." Eliza heard from behind them. She quickly spun around, "Who's that? That one there. Who is he?" Stuart Gilroy was at the tennis courts practicing himself when he spotted his daughter with a random dude, "You. Hanging out with my daughter, I want to know some information." He picked up the tennis racket off the floor, pointing it at Harris chest, who looked terrified, "What's your rank?"
Eliza sighed, "Dad..."
"I can't hear you."
Harris started stumbling over his words, kind of cute in Eliza's eyes, "Uh... I... Um, I'm pretty sure that any answer besides rank one is not going to make you very happy."
"Yea, that's right, because my daughter is number one and she's currently on a serious path to make sure that she stays there. And I'm in a bit of a loss to see how hanging out with you is helping with that."
"I can see how you might be concerned." Harris spoke, trying to keep a level head in the situation he found himself in, "Definitely. The thing is Eliza and I-"
"This has all been cleared with my strength and conditioning coach. He said I needed a partner to go over my exercises and Harris here, nice guy that he is, had volunteered to help me with that."
Eliza found herself lying before she could help it. Never did she lie to her parents but since she joined soccer, situations had changed. Sure, Stuart knew about the soccer thing now, but she wasn't going to tell her parents unless she got caught.
"Really."
"Really?"
"Really." Eliza confirmed, hoping her dad would take off, "So..."
Stuart started stepping away, "I'll see you at home. And you. What's your name?"
"Harris, sir."
Stuart nodded, "Harris, keep in check. I've got an eye on you."
The two teens watched as her father turned around, walking away from the courts, "Take a good look at your future, Eliza Gilroy." Harris sighed, "That's what a lifetime without ice cream can do to you."
Eliza finally looked away from her disappearing dad, to the boy next to her, "Are you serious?"
***
Harris took her to the local shopping mall. Eliza was sat in the food hall, a tub of ice cream in hand as Harris walked over with his. But by the time Harris sat, Eliza had scoffed down her cookie dough ice cream, "Oh. My. God."
"Now do you see what you've been missing out on?" Harris watched her in amusement, trying to scrap up whatever was left in her tub while he started eating his chocolate and marshmallow ice cream.
"Does everyone know about this?"
"No." Harris looked at her in complete seriousness, "Only, everyone in the world."
Eliza stared at the ice cream in his pot, "I want another one."
Rolling his eyes, Harris pushed his towards her slightly, "You can share mine."
"Okay, that's kind of what I was hoping you'd say." She wasted no time, digging into his, barely able to hold her excitement.
