"So, you think you can just hop your ass into our team and own it like it's your shit, don't you?" A girl sneered, confronting me as I pulled my knee pads down to my ankles.
"Didn't say that now, did I?" I replied, clearly not interested.
We had stayed for practice a little while longer, the clock read 10:23 PM.
Skills didn't just earn themselves.
Most of our team groaned at the suggestion of a later and longer practice, I for one didn't mind.
The replacement temporary team I was on for club season worked a little easier than my team did in general.
I would be an automatic outside starter until I could get back to Florida and play for my original team.
"No, but you implied it. Stop acting like your the shit. You're talking to the captain." The red head boasted, acting as if her title as captain immediately gave her the power to forget her morals and be a bitch.
Rolling my eyes, I picked up my bag and headed for the door.
Only to have this bitch walk me out.
What the fuck did she actually want.
"Look, I really don't care if you're captain or not. As for me 'acting like I own shit', can you bitch about it to someone who give a fuck?" I sneered.
She scoffed before glaring at me and walking off.
My fist was nearly about to sock her nose back into her pre-rhinoplasty ass—
"Ignore her, she's captain because believe it or not, she's an actually good setter." Someone spoke.
I turned around to be met with a brunette. Her hair was naturally curly, slicked down with gel as it pulled into a ponytail.
"The hair is from my mom, she's black." She grinned.
"That's cool, you're hair is beautiful by the way. I'm Mack." I introduced, stepping to the side to hold a conversation with her.
"I know, how's it like being in Los Angeles? Enjoying the traffic? Oh and I'm Cora." She joked.
"Oh it's honestly the worst. Now I understand why y'all have 8 lanes on the freeway now."
"Trust me, we need like 10. Traffic here doesn't stop, ever. Rush hour, the absolute worst."
"Tell me about it." I chuckled, finally thankful to have met someone.
"Here's my number, we should hang out tomorrow since practice is cut short at 1." Cora told me, as I pulled up a text on my phone.
I quickly typed in her number and sent a quick 'hey it's Mack' so she could save my number as well.
Before we could finish, a honk interrupted us and she blushed.
"That's mi padre, I'll text you details soon!" She informed me and went off.
It was nice having to talk to someone who wasn't a Starbucks barista or one of the four douchebags.
•••
The cool air chilled me as I stood waiting for my ride.
YOU ARE READING
Chasing The Forbidden | ✔️
Romance"My inspiration was her." Mackenzie couldn't help but get angry at the thought of spending the summer with her famous brother and away from her home team. She was 23 for God's sake. But with her encounter with her brother's bandmate and best frien...
