× Horan

I was late for practice. Mainly because I just really didn't want to go.

I've had a hard weekend; most of it spent sulking and sleeping which was why I skipped out on the practice yesterday. Just the idea of being in the same general area as Lynn made me want to crawl into a hole and never resurface. I didn't even go to my classes for the past two days and instead emailed my instructors to send me any assignments that I might have missed. But I knew if I skipped out on practice one more time I would get a hard lecture from coach, and possibly some triple plyometric drills which would result in an ice bath afterwards, so I figured I should go.

I was only fifteen minutes late, which I thought would be okay since all we did for the first twenty was do stretches, and since I ran all the way from my car to the locker room, I figured I got all my cardio in anyways.

But as I walked onto the pitch, I was quickly overwhelmed with disappointment at missing out on the conversation that led to the sight in front of me.

All sixteen players were standing in a half circle, facing the field. But that wasn't what made me stop in my tracks and stare; it was how they were posing. Their knees were bent and arms straight out in front of them. They all looked like they were standing on a high dive about to jump into a nonexistent pool.

I looked around for Coach so I could ask him what the bloody hell was happening, but he wasn't anywhere in sight.

"What. The fuck. Is going on?" I asked slowly and loudly.

The second my voice rang out through the arena, the team quickly went back to standing straight and turned to look at me like they were caught doing something they shouldn't.

"Namaste," Dylan said with a lopsided grin as he put his palms together in front of him and bowed slightly.

I stared at him. "What did you just call me?"

Through the throng of players, I saw Lynn standing in front of them, clearly being the leader of this little acrobat show. I couldn't look at her, not without a plan. But I only had about 2.5 seconds to run the scenario/reaction in my head before she was right in front of me and hitting my system with the full force of those damn blue eyes.

"Namaste," she said, watching me carefully. "It's a greeting in Hindi."

It made me feel a little better to see that Lynn wasn't looking like herself, either. She wasn't wearing any makeup, but that wasn't unusual during practice, but it made it easier to see the bags under her eyes. She looked like she hadn't slept in days.

"We're doing yoga," Matt explained. "Coach told Lynn that she was in charge of stretches today and she's making us do this."

Lynn scuffed. "I didn't make you do anything. You all agreed to give it a chance."

"To be fair," James spoke up. "We just wanted to see you bend down in those leggings. But all you've got us doing are these tree and chair poses."

"Anything else is too advanced for you," she argued.

I walked to the bench and sat down, adjusting my knee brace. "No more yoga," I stated. "It does nothing to prepare us for our upcoming game next weekend. We should start-"

"Does nothing to prepare us?" Lynn interrupted, stepping through the mass of boys until she was standing a few feet in front of me. "Do you even understand what yoga is?"

Despite it being the middle of January, the temperature outside was rather warm, meaning everyone was wearing less clothing than we usually would at this time of year, and that included Lynn. She had on light grey leggings rolled down low on her hips and a red sports bra that matched her trainers. I couldn't even be mad at the lads for wanting to see her ass, because she looked really good. Her waist was narrow and her stomach was well toned from playing football all those years. If fifteen people weren't looking at me, I might have jumped her right then and there.

But then I had to remember what happened last Friday. I couldn't do that anymore. I had to turn off my brain on everything Lynn related or I would just fall in deeper with no hope of ever breaking the surface.

"I know that it doesn't burn calories," I explained bitterly. "It doesn't push your limits or help with strength."

"I hate to be a yoga expert since I'm not, but all those things you said are incorrect," Lynn stated. Then she put her hands on her hips and I knew that I was about to be put in my place. "It's true that caloric burn is lower with yoga than other exercise options, but that isn't the point. Yoga helps get your body and mind to a healthy state. It makes you stronger, have better balance, and improves flexibility."

Reece walked over to us. "Horan, just give it a rest. It's for one practice."

"Piss off, Walker."

He rolled his eyes and looked at Lynn. "Come on; show us how to do doggie style."

"It's called the downward dog," she clarified and walked away, back to the front of the group. "It strengthens the arms and the legs and stretches your shoulders, calves, hamstrings, hands, and the arches of your feet."

I continued to sit on the bench and watch, not seeing any benefits. I probably should join in; being a good scientist goes out and collects data to prove their theory, but watching my teammates bending down at the waist made me think otherwise. I'll just observe. And by observe, I meant watch Lynn intently as she, too, bent down. Her shoulders were tense, palms flat down on the turf in front of her, knees bent slightly, and spine curved.

Clenching my jaw, I turned away. You need to stop staring, Horan.

Forget falling and never resurfacing again. I was going to get buried alive at that rate.

"How you feeling?" someone asked from behind me, making me jump.

"Jesus Christ," I swore in surprise. I looked over my shoulder and saw a short redheaded girl with freckles. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Jamie stepped over the bench and took a seat beside me. "I'm here for Jace. After he called me about what happened yesterday, I had to come see him."

I scanned my teammates and found Jace at the side of the group, following Lynn's instructions and laughing when things got a little too ridiculous. He didn't look like someone who had just lost someone close to them, but then again, he had a good support team.

"You didn't answer my question," Jamie pressed. "How are you feeling? Regarding Lynn and everything."

Stretching my leg in front of me, I reached out and grabbed the toe of my cleat and pulled. I should have known that Lynn would tell her what happened. I'd be surprised if she hadn't. But that didn't give the right for Jamie to pressure me into telling her how I was feeling. I was pretty sure it was clear how I was doing, anyways.

Jamie sighed when I didn't respond. "Look, I know this isn't ideal for you, but-"

"Have you ever gotten your heart broken?" I interrupted. "Do you know what it's like to literally feel your heart break in two? No? Then you don't get the fucking right to understand what I'm going through."

I've known Jamie to be innocent and bright, but the look she gave me then contradicted everything I knew about her.

"You don't think I know heartbreak?" she said suddenly. "My sister died in a car crash when I was twelve. I was sitting in World History when I was called down to the office. Do you know how life shattering it is to hear your older sister died while you sit in the principal's office? No? Then you don't get the right to assume you're the only one going through this."

That shut me up.

I always associated heartbreak with one thing and one thing only: love. And that was true, but I always looked at one side of the scale. The only relative I had lost was my Grandpa, but I was too young to really understand, let alone remember the feeling of that loss. I may not have liked my brother very much, but there was no way I would just be okay if he died.

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the awkward tension between us. "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," she said softly. "Just know that you're allowed to be upset, just don't take it out on other people, okay?"

Nodding, I looked over at the field again. I really had no reason to be angry. Yeah, in the beginning, but I've been drowning myself in pity for a few days now. It was about damn time I manned up and got over it.

Jamie looked at me again. "This isn't over, you know," she said matter-of-factly. "Pain is real, but so is hope."

"What are you talking about?"

"You and Lynn. It's not over."

"Uh, it's over, Jamie. Nothing you say can change that."

She leaned forward and looked out at the players, lacing her fingers together in front of her. "I can't change it, but you can. You just need hope that Lynn will feel the same way and patience until she does."

"Hope and I don't get along," I explained. "And Patience and I don't coincide."

Jamie laughed. "It's funny. I see you out on the field, fighting for what you want. So seeing you like this is strange to me. I never took you as a quitter..."

We went silent then, the only sound coming from the soft giggles and moans of protest from my teammates. I ran my hand through my hair, pulling at the tuffs in frustration and annoyance. Earlier today I had gotten a haircut. The blonde was nearly all cut off, only the tips were visible now. The sides were shorter than I as used to and my bangs were swept to the side since I was too lazy to try and fix it up like I usually did.

"I like your haircut, by the way," Jamie spoke. "Did you do it because of the, uh, breakup?"

"What?"

"It's normal to change your appearance after a breakup. It gives you control over something that's yours. No matter how trivial you think it is to care about your appearance, it's something that belongs to you, and only you, especially if you gave every other physical part of yourself to someone else."

I laughed. "Uh, I just needed a haircut. That's all."

"Okay," she nodded, though she didn't seem convinced.

I looked out at my teammates. They were in the middle of a pose that didn't make much sense to me - lying flat on their back with their legs up in the air and arms flat against their sides - when a shout broke through the "Zen" in the room.

"What in God's name is going on here?" Coach yelled. He was watching his players with a look of curiosity and slight disturbance.

Thomas was the first to break the pose. "Don't use God's name like that!" he shouted back at him.

"Right, sorry," Coach said sarcastically. "What the fuck is going on here?"

"You told Lynn to take over stretches today," Andrew explained, sitting on the turf. "So we're doing yoga."

Coach looked at the players, then at me on the bench, then at Lynn who was now standing up. He threw something at Andrew that I recognized as a speed ladder.

"Get your asses up and run crossovers."

They all groaned but obeyed anyways. If there was one thing the team collectively loathed, it was running ladders, but I was pretty sure that was a universal hatred. Coach pushed the exercise on us, saying that it doesn't only strengthen our legs, but helps with footing and stealthy passes. He's not wrong, but that didn't mean we didn't hate it any less.

As they set up the ladders and began the runs, I walked over to Coach. "I told them not to do the yoga," I defended. "But Lynn insisted that it was worth it."

Coach was looking down at his clipboard. "I've heard good things about yoga, but this is a team of men who are capable of running miles and lifting weights. We don't need any of that girly fluffy stuff."

I was all for arguing against yoga all day, but it struck me in the wrong way when Coach put a sex on it. "There isn't anything 'fluffy' about it," I argued. "It's a meditation, a moving therapy that doesn't have a set gender. Lots of men do it."

Coach just looked at me coolly and changed the subject. "Nice of you to join us today," he said. "Thought you might have died because I couldn't think you'd have the guts to miss a practice, let alone two."

"Sorry," I muttered. "I was... sick."

"Not an excuse," he said and flipped through the pages of his clipboard. "What are we doing today? I was thinking passing or speed timing drills."

I shrugged, wishing he would just cancel practice. Being there was a lot harder than I thought. I originally believed it would be good for me to be in the same room as Lynn, to try and ignore her the best I could without rising suspicion, but I quickly realized I couldn't do it. It was way too damn hard. I had finally started to feel better, or as good as it was going to get without wanting to throw up, but the second I saw Lynn my heart started hurting all over again.

I looked over my shoulder to see if I could just walk out of there without being noticed, but right then Coach called over the last person I wanted to see.

"Mercury," he shouted. "Come here."

She was standing in line for the ladders, and the relief on her face that she could stop was clear. She jogged over to us and I forced myself to look away.

"Was there any speed drills Coach Sharp used with your UCLA team?" Coach asked. "Something we haven't done yet."

Lynn crossed her arms and thought for a moment. "There's one that she called 'React and Sprint'. It's an exercise that stresses reaction, speed, and changing directions with the ball."

"Ugh, I hate that drill," Jamie put in, coming up to stand next to me.

Coach looked at her. "Perfect," he smiled and handed Lynn his clipboard and pencil. "Show me how the setup looks."

I watched as she drew out the field, adding arrows and players as she explained to him the process. I wasn't paying much attention, though, because I was still debating if I should just run out of the arena.

I thought about what Jamie said. I wasn't a quitter... just when it came to this. I wasn't going to wait around for the chance she might fall in love with me. It wasn't worth the fight. What I needed to do was heal. I needed to forget about Lynn the best I could.

The party this weekend was my best option. It was my time to get shitfaced and throw caution at the wind. It was on the Friday before the next BUSA game and I needed any reason to get my mind off that.

The party was perfect.

× × ×

I should have skipped the shower, should have just skipped on changing and gone straight to my car and gotten the hell out of there. But I didn't because I might feel shitty emotionally; but I also really, really needed a shower.

The men's locker room was what you would expect it to be: loud, chaotic, stuffy, and an overpowering smell of feet and cologne. The conversations that took place through the large room varied from girls, sex, food, sport plays, and weekend plans... but mostly sex.

For someone who didn't want to be seen or talk to anyone at the moment, it was a really bad idea on my part as I was having trouble just trying to get past the half-naked men to get to the showers.

Eventually, I managed to gather my things and head into the connected bathroom, but before I could get there, someone stepped in front of me.

"What's wrong with you?" James asked.

Ever since he found out that I slept with Abby, we haven't spoken. Talking on the field was an exception because it was either that or risk losing the game because of a senseless ordeal and we were both smart enough to know that wasn't worth it. But this was the first time since he said a word outside of practice or during a game that wasn't a snarky remark.

"Nothing," I deadpanned and tried to step around him.

He blocked my path again, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "I'm sure you didn't forget that we were roommates for three years, Horan," he said. "I can tell when something is wrong."

I had about two inches in height on him, but the intensity of his eyes didn't go unnoticed. His hair was wet against his forehead and he had recently shaved the ugly beard he was growing. I hadn't much taken in his appearance since packing my things and leaving the room we shared, but he didn't look much different. I wish I could say the same about myself.

"Okay?" I asked suspiciously.

James laughed. "You don't think I care, do you?"

"You punched me in the face, Moor," I reminded. "Would I really be that far off thinking that was true?"

I knew I should ignore him; he was only trying to get me mad and possibly cause a scene. Why he was so persistent to get that reaction now more than ever, I had no idea. But I wasn't going to give him anything he wanted.

Jace must have seen what was happening because the next thing I knew, he was right beside me.

"Lay off it, James," he said.

"I don't understand why he can't just tell me what's wrong," he argued, finally drawing attention from the other players. "I'm not asking for myself, but on behalf of the team. He's putting us in jeopardy with this new temperament."

"No one asked you to be the spokesperson for the team," Jace continued to press. "Niall may be going through some things, but he did no different today in practice than any other time."

"I'm not talking about today," James said, his voice rising with anger. "I'm saying he missed two practices in one week, only to show up today so he could actually play in the game. We have a game on Friday; he should be here for every practice beforehand and not just the one. Everyone is thinking it; I'm just the one with the bigger balls to actually call out the captain."

The hush that fell in the locker room only seemed to put emphasis on his words. It also proved that he was correct. Everyone was thinking it but were too scared to actually come out and say it. If anything, that hurt most of all.

"You're right," I said into the silence. My voice was hollow and echoed against the walls. "I'm the captain and I should be putting more commitment into the practices."

I didn't say anything else as I stepped around James again and went to the showers.