Some guys shoot condescending looks over their wide shoulders, snickering – it’s rare to see Ace get into trouble with the coach. Beckmann finally gives up on acting like a picture-perfect image of a healthy lifestyle-supporting coach and whips out the pack of cigs hidden in the folds of his navy tracksuit.He offers Ace a smoke because there are no such things as secrets between sportsmen and their respective coaches, but the freckled-teen refuses, balancing the stick and leaning against it.He stops by to chat with his classmates and smoothly evades the more obnoxious people, sparing them a stiff nod or a wiggle of fingers in acknowledgment and heads towards the locker to shove his backpack inside.
The ball nearly catches his face when Ace moves out of its trajectory at the very last second, watching it bounce on the ground before rolling to a stop near the goalie.
But damn if he doesn’t want those victories and that cup. Perhaps it’s because it gives him something to do after class.
Ace doesn’t have much time left before graduation and he needs to carry on his old teammates’ aspirations at least. Ace thinks that being active is far better than heading back home right away and then rotting in front of the computer screen, mindlessly scrolling through social media while hoping for his friends to log on.
” the coach continues his questioning, gaze drifting towards the teens going over their drills, pace mild at best. Think you can make it to afternoon practice or would you prefer having the rest of the day off?
”It’s a bit strange – while Beckmann is far from a slave driver, he rarely willingly grants his overworked players time off.
His fingers twitch as though he’s craving for a good smoke and then settle on the whistle instead, bringing it to his lips, blowing it for no reason whatsoever – the rest are already staring at Ace, mentally judging his lack of concentration.