<Coach Styles>

Three-

Neely's POV:

I don't think I had ever cried more at a practice than I did today. I never ended back in the scrimmage rotation, but instead doing layups on the side.

"Alright ladies, clap it up," Coach Styles announced. I sighed with relief and tossed the ball against he bleachers before jogging to the middle of the court and waiting for them to speak.

"I think we had a good day today. We're already coming together really well and it's visible on the court. I'm proud of each and every one of you and can't wait until tryouts." We all huddled in closer and stuck our arms in the air.

"Cavanaugh, take us out," he said lowly.

"Lady Panthers on three! One...two...three Lady Panthers!" we yelled in unison and broke off.

"Neely, hold up a minute," he breathed, rubbing his chin and I plopped down against the hardwood floor, untying my shoes. Everyone filed out of the gym and when the door finally slammed shut, Coach Styles sat down next to me.

"How do you feel?" he asked, leaning back on his hands.

"Honestly?" I countered, trying not to pass out. He only nodded.

"Shit-tastic." He chuckled, dimples slightly showing at the corners of his mouth and sighed.

"Do you know why I'm so hard on you?" because you're an asshole.

"Not really," I shrugged.

"When I was in high school, I didn't get to play a lot until my senior year. But colleges were recruiting me before that. Why? Because I busted my ass in practice, put in the effort and when I did play, I kicked ass," he said, his jade eyes meeting mine and I quickly looked away.

"I heard about what happened to you last year and how much it hurt you.That's not going to happen to you this year. You have too much passion and drive not to out it towards making this team a winning team. Coach Payne and I can see it every time you're out on the court. We've gotta build up your confidence and shooting and if we can do that, you'll be golden. I'm here to help you in any way I can that is humanly possible. I only push you because I care and I see how much talent you have." I had never thought of it like that.

"Okay," I breathed, not wanting to show him how much he really effected me.

"Do you need a ride home? I heard you and Baclange talking earlier and she couldn't take you home."

"That would be awesome. It's kind of a long walk," I joked as we stood up.

"No problem, Neely. I have to take Michelle home too." Well shit. I felt a pang of jealousy knife through my torso and quickly made my way toward the locker room to change. Changing back into my school clothes, gathering my things, and slamming my locker shut, I walked back into the hallway.

"Is Michelle still in there?" Coach Styles chuckled, swinging his keys back and forth in his hand.

"Yeah she's getting dressed," I nodded, leaning against the cool cement wall.

"I'm going gray over here." We both chuckled slightly and Michelle finally emerged from the locker room, her short shorts high on her long, tan, legs, blonde hair in a perfect pony tail and looking like she just stepped out of a Nike ad.

"Sorry, I get dressed really slow," she gushed.

"No worries. Your house is on the way to Neely's, right?" he replied as we walked toward the front of the school.

"Yeah," she said flatly, giving me a dirty look.

"Perfect." The three of us were silent as we got in the car and I received yet another dirty look from Michelle for snagging the front seat. As he started the car, I fought of a smug grin and looked down at my phone.

What are you trying to play at? He doesn't want you.

Scoffing and rolling my eyes, I furiously typed.

I never said he did. But, let's be honest, I've got the better legs. You're out of your league. If you want to roll with the big dogs, you've gotta be taller than 5'11 sweetie. #hedoesntwantYOU

Anger surged through my veins and I began to feel saddened at the false self confidence I had put into that text message. Michelle was right. He'd never want me.

We'll see about that. Watch and learn, "sweetie."

"Coach Styles," she cooed, leaning her chin against the back of his seat.

"What's up, Grant?"

"Do you do individual workouts? Like shooting on Saturdays or something?" I clenched my fists to keep from punching her.

"No. I don't want you girls to make your whole lives just about basketball. You're still young and you've got a lot left to live beyond basketball."

"Do you think you could start doing them? I feel like my shot is off a little." If looks could've killed, she would've been dead from me.

"We can work on it more in practice. I appreciate your curiosity, but I have full weekends ahead." Smiling almost triumphantly, I looked out the window as he pulled into her neighborhood.

"Take this right and it's the fifth house on the left," Michelle sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Good job today," Coach smiled as the car stopped in front of her large, lavish house. She got out without a word and slammed the door behind her. Clearing my throat, I could feel Coach Styles' eyes on me.