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A/N - Okay, so let's just get this out there. These works are mine. My poor little brain came up with the plots and characters, and I'd really prefer you to not steal them. If you're reading this on a site that is NOT Inkitt or Wattpad then it is most certainly stolen. No, I really don't want them converted into fanfics or into other languages as well.
This is only the first 5 chapters of the book, since Wattpad took down the original. You can now find the book in it's entirety at https://www.inkitt.com/stories/romance/1410498
Thanks!
Loiosh
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The sun beat down upon my face as I sat in the grass, my back up against the goal post of the soccer net. I rolled a soccer ball absently on the ground, just wasting time. My shoulder was jostled as my best friend Mckenna settled in on the side of the post then passed me a bottle of water. I popped the cap, then drank half the bottle quickly, letting the cool water flow down my throat and reviving me a little. She took a drink of her own, having been running around even more than I had over the last few hours.
"Hell of a way to finish the season," Mckenna muttered. "I think the soccer gods hated us today."
I didn't say anything, she knew what I was feeling. One of the great things about Mckenna was that she didn't mind my quiet nature, she would talk enough for the both of us and never need me to contribute unless it was necessary. In this instance, she knew how upset I was, and that I would probably want to go kick one of our other teammate's asses if I got too riled up.
We'd played a twenty game schedule this season, and I'd let in a total of five goals. But today, in the Division III tournament semifinal I let in three of them. Granted, two of them were brutal own goals, both from the same person, and she would be the one that I would want to strangle. If it were up to me, Rose Cook would have the imprint of my cleats on her ass. Just a little imprint mind you, but I wasn't happy. So, we lost 3-2, and our season was over. Neither Mckenna nor I wanted to be near the locker room right now.
"Coach is coming," Mckenna noted.
I looked off towards the bench, and sure enough I saw the familiar figure of Coach Palmer headed our way next to a burly man that was probably going to tell us to get off the field for the next game. I just really didn't want to move. But I knew I had to. Heaving my 6'1" frame up off the grass, I held out my hand for Mckenna who gratefully took the assist to stand up next to me. I retrieved the soccer ball that I'd been playing with and headed towards the side of the field.
But I was surprised to see that both the coach and the guy that she was with angled their approach to intercept us. We slowed down, and that was when I noticed that the man wasn't a groundskeeper but was wearing the light blue of the North Carolina Tarheels. A shitty little soccer field in Texas watching the tiny University of Dallas lose a game to Harold Payne University wasn't where I was expecting to see a man like that.
"Frankie! Mckenna! This is Coach Tucker from North Carolina. He's like to have a moment of your time," Coach Palmer called over to us. She had a big smile on her face, and I was hoping this was going to be a good conversation.
"You girls played a hell of a game out there," Coach Tucker stated as he held out his hand. I shook it quickly, as did Mckenna. "Coach Palmer has had a bug in my ear all season about you two, and I had to come check you out myself. Let me get straight to the point, I'm offering you both scholarships to UNC, full ride, if you transfer. Come play for us in the big leagues"
My heart immediately leapt, but I looked over at Mckenna, seeing the misery on her face. I knew what she was thinking, and I didn't know what to tell her. I took a step closer to her and pulled her into my arms. "Do you think you can do it? I don't want to go without you!"
She shook her head lightly against my chest. "You know I can't Frankie. I can't leave them."
One of the other things that bonded the two of us was that we were both raised by our grandparents. My grandpa Joe had raised me since my eighth when my father made it very clear to everyone that he never wanted a monster like me to spend another day in the house, while her grandparents had raised her after her parents passed away some ten years ago. We both picked the same college near our respective homes to help them out and became fast friends within a week. But my grandfather had passed away last year, while hers were needing a lot of hospice care, money, cooking, and cleaning that she was helping to provide. I could leave, but she never would.
I couldn't argue with her decision though. As close as I was with grandpa Joe, I wouldn't have been able to leave him either were our positions reversed. But he'd died with almost no warning due to a heart attack right after a nice dinner, and I barely had time to say goodbye. He was gone before the ambulance even arrived. "I'm afraid we can't go sir. I'm sorry." I told him, much to his and Coach Palmer's shock.
"No!" exclaimed Mckenna. "She's going! Frankie, you have to get out of here. This place isn't for you. I have to stay to take care of my family, but.... But maybe next year." I knew their prognosis, that was something we shared. There was a good chance they wouldn't make it to next summer. They both had cancer but were fighting it. It killed me that she'd want to go through that alone.
"I can't leave you to go through that alone," I whispered to her.
"You have to. If you don't do this, you're going to be stuck in this shit hole on that ranch. That isn't where you belong, and you know it. You have to take your shot."
That ranch, if you could call it as such, was a tiny plot of land with a dozen cattle. The only redeeming quality was that our big bull, Samson, made more money being put out for stud than the rest of the ranch combined. The ranch had two workers, a pair of gay married men named Ray and Blake who made enough jokes about themselves being put out to stud to last a lifetime. But they were good workers and a riot to hang out with on the weekends.
Mckenna was right though. As much as I liked living on the ranch growing up thanks to the solitude, I didn't want to stay there after college. "One condition. You call me if you ever need anything at all. I will get my ass on a plane and come back and help with whatever you need. I don't want you having to go through all of this by yourself, okay?"
"Of course. You know I'll keep in touch. And if I can come join you, then I'll be there. I know you're inept all on your own!" She lightly punched me on the arm, but she was telling the truth.
I turned to Coach Tucker. "So, how do we do this?"
The rest of the day was spent in Coach Palmer's office with us going over all the paperwork for the transfer and the scholarship details. Mckenna joined us, though I wasn't sure if it was for support or for her own information. It was pretty straight forward. I would get the full ride, with minimum grade point averages needed and behavior clauses to be maintained. Considering I'd probably spend my college career there either in my dorm or an apartment, I didn't think that would be an issue. It's hard to get in trouble when you never go out. The idea was to join them in the spring semester since their team had practices then for the upcoming fall season, and then I'd be more familiar with the players when the season started. That meant I'd probably have a light class load in the spring, since most of the classes I'd want would already be full. I was okay with that though; I didn't mind taking a few classes over the summer to make up for that lighter course load when I was getting acclimated to the area.
"Can I be blunt, Frankie?" Coach Tucker asked.
"I'd prefer it." I hated when people played games and danced around subjects. Just tell me what you need or want, and I'll get on with it. If the coach was going to do that, we'd get along fine.
"I've been informed about your issue, and I want you to know that it will have no bearing on me or how I coach and assign playing time. I've had girls of every gender play for me, including one transitioning, and I don't care. You're all my players, and I'm not going to treat anyone better or worse over it. Everyone gets a fair shot, and I hope you're okay with that," he explained. "I know around here it has been tough for you, but things are different on campus."
I gave him a small smile. "That is more than fair. Being treated like any other player is all I want. I don't want to be treated any differently." I wasn't sure who told him I was intersex, and wasn't thrilled that it had come up, but at least his attitude was refreshing so I could live with it. Until Coach Palmer, being intersex had always been like a curse to me after the doctor told my parents about it. I never had a problem with my body, but everyone else did. Now it looked like I found another coach that didn't care one way or another, and it was a relief to think that maybe the future could have more open minded people.
"Perfect!" he exclaimed. "Just so you know, our starting goalie just graduated, which is why I'm here to see you. I have a girl who was the backup last year, a sophomore like you, who will be trying out against you. I'll make it an open competition, but if you play like you have all year here then the job will probably be yours. But that isn't a promise! You still have to keep doing what you've been doing!"
"Yes sir, I will!"
"And you!" he whirled, pointing a finger at Mckenna. "I admire you sticking around for your family. But if and when you're interested in coming, then I could use another midfielder with your guts and skill." He slid his card over to her. "Get a hold of me if things change, or just have Frankie here let me know."
"Yes sir!" Mckenna choked out.
An hour later, Mckenna and I were sitting in a local diner that we hit at least once a week before we headed back home. I was a sucker for their chicken and waffles, while Mckenna had a big cheeseburger that looked like it contained an entire cow. It felt good to get food in me after the day we'd had, and the news I was sitting on. With soccer season abruptly ended, it also meant I could cheat on my healthy diet. I knew my first order of business would be talking to Ray and Blake, giving them a raise and letting them stay on the ranch and run it for me since I wouldn't be around. But they'd also save on rent, so that would hopefully help them out in exchange for an increased workload.
"Frankie, you need to find someone you can trust there. A friend. Someone who can fill in for me till I get there. I don't want you alone every night. Hell, maybe you can even find a girlfriend, you never know!" Mckenna said while we ate.
I snorted. "Maybe I'll find a friend, but nobody is replacing you."
"And a girl?" she prompted.
"Mckenna, come on. Do we really have to get into that? Nobody is going to want to be with me when I'm like I am." The funny thing is, Mckenna knows more about me than anyone. Hell, she knows more about me than me. She overheard me with Coach Palmer back in freshman year when the coach had found out about me being intersex from my dear old dad, and then made sure to let me know that she didn't care at all. But she did do a lot of research, just so she knew more about it.
She was happy to tell me that about the same percentage of people have an intersex trait as have red hair. I mean, it isn't quite the same though. If I'd have been born with red hair, my dad would probably have accused my mom of cheating, but he wouldn't have called me a monster and then want to give me up for adoption in the middle of my birthday party. Thankfully my grandfather on my mom's side was there at the party, and he took me in as his own instead.
She also found out that intersex is a pretty generic term, and that there are a lot of different types, many of which you might not notice at first glance. Mine, you notice. Any time you find a person with breasts and a penis, it isn't hard to spot the difference. At least when the clothes are off! The worst thing was, she kept trying to tell me that being intersex wasn't a big deal, that a lot of girls would actually prefer someone like that. But, when your family kicks you out, and you live in an ultra-conservative part of the country that laughs at you daily, that can be hard to believe. Maybe if I'd grown up elsewhere, or had a family that supported me, then I might have bought into that.
According to my father, I'm a monster. I'm a freak. I started maturing early, which is one of the ways I got up to my height. But it also meant I started getting breasts earlier, and when the doctor started doing tests, he let my mom know what the results were. She told my father on my birthday, hoping he wouldn't cause a scene on a special day, but she should have known better. He can't even let it go without me living there. He's called every school I've ever been at to make sure they know about me. That probably wouldn't be a big deal in many places but growing up in some of the North Dallas suburbs, as conservative and anti-LGTBQ as you can get, it matters. When your dad calls your high school coach and tells him that he can't believe a monster plays for him, or he calls the principal of your middle school to make sure the monster isn't doing anything in the gym showers, it kind of sets in. He even called Coach Palmer, but luckily, she didn't care about me being intersex.
The only thing I was glad about was that I took after my mom in most respects. I had her black hair and dark brown eyes. My skin was a dark tan from being outside all day. Though I knew where I was covered was paler, I was still a little tan since one of my grandmothers was a Mexican immigrant. I was pretty sure I got the height from my mom's side of the family too, because while I had a good three inches on my father, I was the same height as my grandfather.
So yeah, getting a girlfriend wasn't high on my list of things to do. The last two years with Coach Palmer had been the best of my life, but the years before were a horror of bullying and ostracization. Hell, if it wasn't for my granddad suing the school district over the coach trying to kick me off the team for being intersex, I would have never even been on the team. He had to threaten to do it again to have him let me be the goalie, even though the whole team knew I was the best one.
But the coach got me back. He told me he'd sent my soccer highlights to the top schools in the country to get scholarships, when in fact he never did any such thing like that for me. I guess it was for the best though. Had I been at a big university like UNC, I wouldn't have been able to say goodbye to my grandpa Joe when the heart attack got him. Coach Palmer always told me she had a contact at UNC, and I guess she was true to her word. Now I'd be moving there over the Christmas break.
As for my grandpa Joe, I knew he wanted me to go play soccer at a real school, and now I'd try to make him proud.
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