Evangeline Carter wants nothing more than to make it through her final year of college in one piece figuratively and literally. With a messy ending to her long-term relationship, the task of getting over him deems harder than she thought it would be...
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This is hell.
Practice is hell.
And the string of curse I feel rising in my throat on cement the way I'm feeling.
Fuck.
I groan inwardly, as the pace stops on the opposite side of the gym. We've been doing conditioning drills since we got here two and half hours ago, now where on courts favorite activity of them all, half court sprints.
And with the fleeting look Coach Thompson is giving us only reassures me that we're no way from being finished and that he's ticked. I grab the front of my shirt wiping the sweat from my forehead, a slight breeze of air passes over me causing a shiver to run through my body. We're three weeks away from our first game of the season and coach isn't having any bullshit, especially not ours, and after everything that transpired in last year's March Madness tournament.
But as soon as two of our freshman players, Foster and Andrew decided to blow chunks at the beginning is the only reason coach is dragging this shit out even further.
"See now that wasn't so hard, if only you did this the first go around" Coach says, referencing Logan and Parker. "Now quit lolling around and line back up, one more set and I'll send you guys home early or start again. I'm feeling extra generous today boys don't tempt me." He says arms crossed over his chest, clipboard in hand—smirking at us. Looking directly at the two culprits lagging around.
Tre and Keegan.
A loud groan sounds through the facility causing all eyes to fall on Carter and Davis, with glares suggesting don't fuck this up. Not that Tre cares he's probably still aggravated about the shit we pulled the other day with pouring water on him, and all I suspect is confirmed when he opens his mouth.
"Come on coach, you know you don't want to do that" Tre says smirking, as Nate hits him on the back of the head telling him to shut the fuck up. "Keep it up Carter, or we'll be here for the rest of the night, try me?" Coach suggest, raising his brow—daring Tre. I rest my hand on my hip taking a look around, as the guys appear exhausted—we're gassed. And if we have to keep doing this, I'm forsure going to pass out.
"Okay fine, promise to do it right this time coach" Tre says, holding his hands up in surrender with a smug look gracing his face.
This little bitch.
A nudge to my shoulder pulls me, "the little shit is lying, watch him fuck up on purpose" Nate breathes, raking a hand through his sweaty hair.
"He better not" I say under a steady breath as we line back behind the baseline. Coach grips his whistle between his lips before uttering "go". We take off at the sound, running towards the opposite end, one after the other. Making quick work to the edge before sprinting back to the other side, before a loud thump sounds. Because that could either be two things, my ears are playing tricks on me or someone just fell. Clenching my jaw so hard, I'm surprised it doesn't break because we're about to have to redo this shit.
