<Coach Styles>

Five-

Neely's POV:

"Sorry about that, he's a little out there sometimes," Coach Styles sighed, looking slightly embarrassed.

"It's okay," I shrugged. "It happens a lot."

"What do you mean?"

"When I go to social events with my uncle, guys think I'm a lot older than I am. My cross to bear being this tall." It happened all the time and I absolutely hated it. I had gone from a almost 300 pound girl to a 206 pound girl and I still felt fat every single day of my life. I had a small pudge at the base of my stomach that could only really be visible if I slouched, but still. It was there, reminding me of everything I once was, tormenting me.

"I told him you were one of my players. He just likes to tease a lot," he replied, walking toward the fridge and pulling out ketchup and mustard.

"He's harmless. I've probably got a foot and a hundred and fifty pounds on him. think I'll be fine," I laughed.

"He's only 5'10 and weighs about 160, but he has his ways," Coach chuckled as he lightly placed burgers onto buns.

"Okay so I only have 46 pounds on him, but still. I could take him."

"That'd be a sight." We both burst into laughter as he slid the plate to the middle of the island and grabbed a burger from the plate. "There's lettuce, tomato, and onions if you want it. Some cheese too."

Putting cheese on top of the scalding burger patty, I took it off the bun and sat it on my plate quickly, licking my fingertips.

"Do you not like buns?" he asked and I lightly laughed.

"On guys yes, burgers no," I teased.

"That's interesting. Why don't you like hamburger buns?" he grinned.

"I just never have," I lied. I hated any extra caloric intake that would make me gain weight and bread was a major one. Just looking at the bun made me want to be sick. He slowly nodded, taking a bite of his burger and I watched his sharp jaw move as he chewed. I sat there quietly eating, wishing I could've been at home, writing and watching The Knick or reruns of Million Dollar Listing L.A.

--------------------
Dinner had ended and I was now sitting on the futon, watching television as Coach Styles had gone to the home office to grade papers and get some work done. Checking my phone on the kitchen counter, the time read 10:57 and I was exhausted. Padding toward the sink to sit my glass of water in there, I made my way up the stairs to say goodnight.

His office door was slightly cracked and I could see him sitting at the desk, hunched over a paper with the rest scattered across and the dark rims of glasses sticking slightly out past his dark curls. Seeing a bag of trail mix sitting on top of the desk, I quietly chuckled. His back was curved as he chewed and he leaned into the paper really closely.

"There's a lightning in your eyes I can't deny,
Then there's me inside a sinking boat running out of time," he sang, sighing as he scribbled on the sheet of paper.

"Without you I'll never make it out alive,
But I know, yes I know we'll be alright," his voice was smooth and melodic, yet so quiet I'm sure he thought no one would hear. It turned into a hum before he belted out more lyrics as he graded, pulling his glasses down a few times and then pushing them back in his hair.

"A sight, isn't he?" a voice behind me whispered, and I jumped.

"You're gonna get me caught," I snapped quietly.

"Well, you've been standing here like a bloody idiot for 30 minutes. I'm surprised he hasn't just turned around. Why won't you go in?"

"I don't know. It just doesn't seem right to. He's in the zone."

"And you love to see him like that," Louis grinned.

"What are you talking about?" I gasped. No, I thought it was adorable, but I could've gone in anytime I wanted.

"Just don't hurt him. He's a fragile one, Harry is. Like broken glass, so try not to cut your fingers." Walking away and closing what I assumed to be his bedroom door, I let out a sigh and knocked twice on the slightly ajar office door.

"Come in," he said and I pushed the door open, seeing him lean up from the paper he had covered in red.

"I just came to say thank you for everything and good night," I gushed nervously.

"It's not a problem, Neely. I'm always here if you need help. Just let me know if you need anything else. Do you know when your uncle will be back?"

"He said Wednesday."

"Have you called your parents? Maybe they can pick you up tomorrow after conditioning." My face slightly fell and I looked down at my long feet.

"My parents are dead," I cleared my throat. "That's why I live with my uncle."

"Oh my God, I'm sor-"

"You're sorry. Everyone is."

"How long ago did they pass?"

"Five months."

"Do you mind if I ask how?" His face was sympathetic and I let out a shaky breath.

"A drunk driver hit us on the way home from one of my late AAU tournament games."

"Us?"

"I was in the back seat." Silence filled the room and I didn't dare look at him as I tried to keep the tears that were flowing down my face to a minimum. Hearing footsteps coming toward me, I looked up to see him opening his arms and tightly wrapping them around me. Then I really lost it.

"Hey," he murmured. "It's okay. They'd be proud of you."

"Um," I sniffed, pulling away from him no matter how much my body screamed not to. "I'm gonna go to sleep. Goodnight." I walked quickly out of the office and clenched my fists as I almost sprinted back down the stairs. How could I have been so stupid to be vulnerable and tell him about my parents? He'd probably use it against me now and throw it up in my face. Good god, I'm an idiot. Plopping down on the futon and curling up on my side, I quickly fell asleep, the former tears finally drying.