Page 36 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter
I’m gone before he can finish that sentence. Instead of going to the registrar—seems like a tomorrow problem—I head home and change into running clothes. I haven’t gone on an actual run in a long time, and maybe the restlessness in my muscles will finally quiet if I give it an outlet.
Hooking up my earbuds, zipping the lightweight jacket over my sports bra, I hit the road. Almost immediately, my breathing is labored. That’s what I fucking get for not running in almost a month.
Everything with my mom just messed me up, I guess. Running is a healthy habit, and I may have been more interested in self-destructing.
But once I push past that painful part, it gets easier. I hit that zone where it’s just my stride and breathing and the music in my ears.
I skirt campus, instead heading toward St. James. I don’t know why… I just miss seeing people who don’t hate me on sight. There’s a more direct route, but the road is more like a highway. The sidewalks there aren’t maintained well. So I take the winding road that curves through the forest and gives a decent view of the lake.
Few cars come this way, it seems. The road is quiet until a car whizzes past me. The brake lights illuminate a second later, and the vehicle swerves across the lane to stop in my path.
My stride slows.
It isn’t until the driver’s door opens and Carter Masters gets out that I realize I recognize his vehicle.
I put my hand on my chest, dropping into a walk and pulling out my earbuds with my other hand. “You scared me!”
“You’re running out here all by yourself?” He approaches quickly, stopping just short of me. His gaze snaps to my cheek. “What the fuck happened?”
I shiver and touch the bruise I can’t seem to hide. “Oh, uh…”
“Sydney.”
“Some stupid drama,” I mutter. “FSU’s student body doesn’t like me very much.”
“All of them?” His blue eyes are so freaking intense. “That doesn’t explain—did someone hit you?”
“I…” I don’t want to lie. But literally everyone found out about what I did from Carter. “How did they know it was me that gave you the FSU plays?”
He blinks. “Whoa, that’s quite the change in direction.”
“We haven’t talked about it since I was kicked out of SJU.” I plant my hands on my hips. “And why are you out here?—?”
“I was on my way back into town.” He shifts back, sliding his hands into his pockets. “It’s kind of cold out here, huh? Can I buy you some lunch? Maybe not in FSU territory.”
My stomach grumbles, and I crack a smile when he raises his eyebrow.
“Okay,” I allow.
I settle in his car and run my hands along my thighs. The hives from the tape have mostly gone away, but I’m covered in bruises from struggling. It’s easy to hide when the weather is cool, and long-sleeve shirts or sweatshirts are acceptable. But when Carter cranks the heat…
I want to crack the window instead of take off the jacket.
“How has SJU been without me?”
He glances over. “You miss us?”
“Something like that.” I roll my eyes. “I’m not sure I miss you, Carter. You didn’t say how they found out it was me.”
“It’s shitty,” he confesses. “And it snowballed.”
I motion for him to continue.
“Coach wouldn’t take the photos without proof that they came from someone reliable. And you… you’re the most reliable source I could’ve asked for, Syd. You’re literally the FSU coach’s daughter. Estranged or not?—”
“Our relationship is under construction,” I interrupt.
“Okay,” he allows. “But he saw your name on the message thread, and it just kind of spiraled from there. It definitely got out of control as soon as the administration got wind of it.”