The next day at practice, I was stretching off to the side of the field when Liam broke off from talking to Coach Davis and started to make his way over to me. I dropped my head quickly, pretending to be enthralled in my stretches.
“Your drills are looking better,” he complimented as he reached me. I looked up just as he crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared off toward the rest of the team.
“Thanks. I’m actually a decent soccer player when my body isn’t running on jell-o shots and I’m not dressed in a leotard,” I joked, reaching to stretch my other leg.
He smiled and shifted his attention toward me, but he had to narrow his eyes to see me through the sunlight.
“Are you planning on training for the Olympic tryouts?” he asked with a hopeful tone.
“That’s the plan,” I replied. “I chose ULA because of Coach Davis.”
“That was a smart move. The way she runs her practices will be similar to tryouts, I’m sure.”
I nodded, unsure of where our conversation would lead.
“Your cheek healed up nicely,” he said with a private smile.
I couldn’t help but smile back at him as I reached up to feel where the remnants of my bruise were hidden beneath a thin layer of sweat.
We stood there for a moment before I asked a question that had troubled me for the past few days.
“So are you really as wild as the tabloids make you out to be?”
He didn’t answer right away. He rubbed his chin and cast his gaze to the ground, as if scrolling through past memories. “Can I say I’m a reformed bad boy without sounding like a tool?” He laughed. “I started playing professional soccer when I was twenty and I went a little… wild. When I had a few endorsement deals threaten to cut me loose, I realized I had to change my game plan.”
“When was this?”
“Three months ago,” he answered as he traced a patch of grass with his cleat. “I’m still kissing ass to some of my endorsers.”
“Would they really drop you because of your personal life?”
He furrowed his brow before responding. “When Tiger Woods had that affair, he was dropped by most of his sponsors. They don’t want scandals associated with their brands.”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” I narrowed my eyes at him, “Y’know, three months isn’t a very long time… maybe you have some residual bad boy left?”
His eyes shot up to mine as a slow smirk unpeeled across his lips.
Leave while he still thinks you’re somewhat-charming.
“I gotta get back to practice,” I said as I saw the girls running back onto the field from our water break. As I ran toward them, I tried to tell myself the adrenaline coursing through my system was from practice and not from our little exchange.
The next day passed quickly with no sign of Liam at practice and no more attempts at hazing. I was more worried about the absence of Liam than the potential hazing. That is until Becca barged into my room Thursday night.
"Guess why Liam, I'm sorry, Coach Wilder, wasn't at practice today," she said, shutting the door and locking it behind her. Her blonde hair was piled in a messy bun and she was wearing some kind of onesie pajama set.
I put my book down. "What? Why?"
She smiled cheekily and plopped her laptop down on my bed.
"Because our dream-of-a-coach was on the Tonight Show just now," she explained with a proud grin. "He's been doing press for the LA Stars."
"That's so awesome! Can we watch it?"
"You’re like fifty steps behind me. I’m already streaming it. Scoot over," she said, crawling up next me.
“Should we get Emily?” I asked.
“I just checked. She’s on the phone with her lover boy.”
"Ah, all right. This is so awesome," I squealed, excited at the idea of watching Liam for twenty minutes without having to worry that he'd catch me staring. "Also, should we talk about the footed pajamas or are we just going to ignore it?" I laughed, eyeing her clothes.
Becca shot me a playful glare. "Don't knock it till you try it. Seriously, I'd wear them everywhere if I could."
"And you wonder why you're still a virgin," I joked, fully prepared for the punch that was about to happen.
Right on cue, she smacked me in the arm. "That is so not cool! If I didn't know I was pretty and awesome, I'd have a major complex about still being a virgin."
"But you're only nineteen. That's still really young."
She narrowed her eyes and then tilted her head away from me so that her next words came out as a jumbled mess.
"Ihaven'toendnehaout."
"What? I can't hear you. Speak up."
"Ihaven'tdoneanythingpashedmaeurh—"
I laughed and cupped my hand around my ear. "Am I freaking deaf or are you mumbling?"