AR - Coaches?

“Is this the best we can do?” Adella asks glumly.

You stand with her at the edge of the field. It’s off the beaten track, outside the town. This is one area that is not very swampy, and it’s quite flat. The problem of an appropriate practice location for the team is… a big problem. Using school resources for practice won’t work because Winter Soccer isn’t officially the school district’s thing. You don’t want to give the other side anything to complain about. They will be practicing in a heated gym like the one that you’ll play in. Your team will be practicing on grass in the cold.

“I think so,” you tell her, squeezing her hand.

“OK,” she says. She seems calm and confident. That’s a bit reassuring. You know that you are good at soccer, but you are not sure that you’re qualified to coach. Adella doesn’t seem worried. That’s so sexy. “How did you know about this place?” she asks, turning and starting back toward the car with you.

“Everyone knows this place,” you say. “It’s the makeout place.”

“I don’t see anyone,” she replies, looking around.

“It’s daytime!”

“Did you come here a lot in school?”

You snort. “No. Never. But I wanted to.”

Adella pauses by the car and looks down at you. She moves her hand from the front seat handle to the back. “Shall we?”

You laugh. “It’s OK. I don’t need a pity makeout.”

“OK.” She climbs into the back anyway. What? She wants you to drive her back to town like a chauffeur? You hesitate for a second, then climb into the back with her, trying not to laugh.

“This is what American teenagers do?” she asks, getting comfortable and looking around in the backseat.

“Yes,” you say.

“So this is what you wanted?”

“Well…”

“What?”

You frown. “I, um… I have a…” You gesture at yourself. “So when I imagined it, I put myself in the place of the boy, you know? The one making a move and stuff.” It’s embarrassing to say. “But with you I’m the girl,” you say, blushing.

“Oh,” she replies with an annoying look on her face. She reaches out and lightly touches your chin. You laugh and push her hand away. “I see.”

“Oh my god. I just, you know, thought that the, uh… the way that the relationship would be when I found a girlfriend would be different.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, America.”

She’s not serious. She knows that you wouldn’t have trained yourself in anal for someone who disappointed you. You sigh and lean against her. “Just because things don’t go the way that we expect doesn’t mean that they aren’t good,” you say. Then you realize that might not be the most sensitive thing to say to her.

Adella doesn’t seem bothered, though. She smiles down at you, then assumes a… more girlish posture.

“I’m am your girlfriend. Show me what you would do,” she says.