How About One v. One ? ((Tag: Soren))

[doriangray]

Soccer. Its true name Fútbol.

It was number two on favorite sports to play AND watch. Number one was tennis, but that was because she was much better at tennis. Not the point though. She had a passion for the sport and just because her footwork could use a bit of improvement didn't mean that she wasn't a hell of a shot. In fact, she was the top scorer at Baum... on the girl's team at least. She secretly prided herself as being one of the best, but she never was a show-boat about it.

She did her thing and had fun doing it. Competition was never a big deal with her, aside from major things.

Today had been an interesting day. School passed by like usual, slow and uneventful. Courtney had heard rumors that some college guy from Barrie University was going to be assisting the coach. It was seriously a low blow to get the boys more attention, while the girls got stuck with some 'wanna-be' pro.

She was a bit peeved after lunch after learning that bit of information. The idea of skipping practice crossed her mind, but she quickly squished that thought. The mindset of getting captain as a junior was burning in her mind. She wasn't going to let some guy come in and try and ruin that. Nope. She'd survive,then she'd never have to worry about the guy again. He couldn't ruin anything. In fact, she'd try to teach him a lesson or two. That thought made her giggle a bit in the middle of a lecture causing the class and teacher to give her the dirtiest looks.

Finally, the school day had ended, and she was getting ready for practice. She slid into her practice clothes, strapped on her shin guards, and tied her cleats. She walked out onto the field as the other girls juggled and talked amongst themselves. Courtney kept her eyes peeled for the strange guys as she made her way to the middle of the field to do her stretches.

She crossed her legs at her ankles and bent down, touching her forehead to her knee as she planted her hands palm down on the ground. She counted down from ten and lifted herself back. She spread her legs apart, bent down to her left leg, then to the middle, then to the right leg. She spent ten seconds at each spot. She stood up and did a few high knees and squats.

Her mind was entering her soccer mindset as a few of her fellow team members all started making more than usual noise. Courtney rolled her eyes and turned to see what the commotion was about. She literal stood gawking at the strange man walking with her coach. He was tall, tan-skinned, and looked fit. She was a bit awe struck not remembering him when she went to one of Barrie's soccer games. He was... gorgeous. He had think calf muscles that bulged as he walked, his chest protruded from under his shirt, and his arms were defined. When did 'the-thing-upstairs' have time to make this man so, well, perfect. Courtney shook her head and looked away to the soccer ball at her feet. She needed the distraction.

[SOREN SOMERSETT]

Soren Somersett was coaching a high school girls’ soccer team.

Jesus fucking Christ. What next, joining a nunnery? Becoming a fucking Brownie Girl Scout or whatever? Jesus. Jesus. Jesus Christ. Could this just end now? Could he just get the money so he could buy his Ronaldo jersey and get the fuck out of this shit job? God damnit, he had an essay due for Composition in two hours that he hadn’t even started.

Not that Soren did homework. Fuck no. Course not. Only nerds did homework.

”Now I’m going to let our assistant coach warm you girls up while I set up for our first drill. Any questions, he’s your man.” Retard Coach Dude nodded to Soren as he walked away, whistling some goddamn song that Soren had never heard before in his life.

Soren turned to face the group of giggling girls, knowing that if any of the soccer bros every saw him doing this shit, he was going to get some serious ass kicked tomorrow at practice. Seriously. He was captain of a Division 1 soccer team, an All-League Honorable Mention soccer player, and yet here he was, playing with a bunch of high school chicks. Jesus Christ.

His feet unconsciously began to kick a ball beneath him, weaving it in intricate patterns between his legs. “Sup, bitches?” he asked, strolling back and forth before them with the ball flying in and out of blades of grass. ”I’m Soren Somersett, your assistant coach for this season. Couldn’t really give less of a shit what any of your names are. Sorry.” He spit on the ground. ”So. Who wants to go on v. one?” He glanced at the feminine faces staring back at him, selecting one at random. ”You. Blondie.” He pointed to a skinny, pale-looking girl on the far end. This one should be an easy shot. Not that he figured he was going to have an ounce of trouble beating any of these chicks, they being…well, chicks, and all. ”C’mere.” His left foot toyed dangerously with the ball.