"Ooow!," I wailed, clutching my ankle as it throbbed in pain. I felt tears forming in the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away rapidly as a few team mates and my coach rushed over to form a small semi-circle around me. Coach Davis was the last one to trot over and he shouldered his way through the crowd of teen-aged girls to crouch down beside me.
"Did you turn it, Hannah?" One of my teammates asked, leaning down and resting her hands on her knees.
"Alright girls, get back to the track...it doesn't look too bad," Coach Davis replied, holding my ankle in his hands while the other girls slowly scattered. I winched in pain as he gentle squeezed, applying light pressure to my swollen skin. I couldn't believe this was happening! And with only a week left until the track and field competition with East Lake High...I must have been the clumsiest, most awkward eighteen year old ever to be on North Bay's Track Team.
I watched as Coach Davis furrowed his eyebrows, concentrating on my ankle as he turned it slightly left and then right. I felt a shooting pain both times, and nodded while biting my lip in frustration when Coach Davis asked me if it hurt.
"Alright Hannah, let's get you inside..," He said, helping me to my feet. I clutched onto him for balance as he looped my arm over his broad shoulders and clutched my waist. I blushed momentarily, the touch of my coach's hand gripping my side making me momentarily forget the pain in my ankle. I couldn't help it really; Coach Davis was a very attractive man to be almost forty. He had sandy blonde hair, and kept just a little bit of stubble on his handsome face and chin. He was in great physical shape, and all of the girls at North Bay High swooned over him. Of course, none more so than Stacey Reynolds.
As I limped pathetically towards the gym, supported by Coach Davis, I glanced up just in time to catch Stacey's heated glare. Stacey was one of the most popular girls in school, and rightfully so; she was by far the best runner and sprinter on our team. Not only that, but she looked way older than eighteen, with huge boobs and long blonde hair that she flaunted in front of Coach Davis as much as possible. Every other girl on the team knew that trying to flirt with Coach Davis was off limits when Stacey was around. I knew I could never measure up to her, both in talent and in looks. I was your average, awkward girl that seemed to blend in more than stand out.
"Alright, watch out for this step," Coach Davis said, breaking my train of thought as I limped up the stairs with him. When we were finally inside the gym, I sat down on the nearest bench and let out a relived sigh. Coach Davis immediately squatted down and began bending my ankle this way and that, pushing my foot forward and back until I finally jerked away, crying out in pain. He blinked, looking up at me with his magnificent chocolate colored eyes.
"Sorry," I whimpered. "It was just reflexive..,"
He gave me a sympathetic smile and I sighed again, flustered and angry with myself.
"Well at least it's no big loss for the team on Saturday," I sulked.
"Now, you've come a long way, Hannah. You've gotten your time down practically a full minute since last year..," Coach Davis replied in a gentle tone.
"I'll never be as good as Stacey...," I blurted out. I regretted it the moment I said it, especially when Coach Davis gave me an inquisitive look. I felt my face turning pink with embarrassment.
"I-I just meant that she's such a good runner...," I trailed off looking him in the eyes, trying to read his thoughts as his mouth formed a small smile. Without warning, his grabbed my leg and began to massage my calf as he sometimes did when we were warming up, to loosen our muscles. He kneaded his rough fingers into my skin, our gaze never breaking.
"She's talented, I'll give her that...," He started, continuing his massage slowly up my leg. "But Stacey jumps the gun too often, she's too forceful. A good runner should start off at a good pace, and continue to pace herself throughout her run..."
He stopped as he starred hard into my eyes then, his hands practically up to my thigh now.
"Also, I prefer brunettes over blondes." He said softly, letting a sheepish smile spread across his handsome face. I blinked, knowing my face was completely red now.
"I'm a brunette," I breathed out stupidly. He chuckled as his hands reached my thigh and he brushed his fingers across my skin, giving me goose bumps.
"I'm aware," He replied as we continued to stare at each other. My heart was pounding now as he waited for me to move or speak, but I felt as if I couldn't do either at that moment.
I looked to floor, swallowing hard and breaking our stare. I was so nervous, and so inexperienced, I had no idea what to do or say. Coach Davis lifted my chin up with his hand to look at me again.