Coach's Daughter

41

Paige's pov

I sent Nika to check up on y/n. I just needed to know how she was. I haven't seen her around. I feel so guilty and horrible for what I did, well what I had to do. I knew she had her math class before biology at 3 pm and Nika has math around that time too so it worked out.

I'm even more worried than before now that Nika reported back that y/n seems depressed and empty inside.

I should be resting up for the final four tomorrow, but instead I've been staring at the ceiling of this hotel room as tears run down the sides of my face. It's 1:00 am. Good thing I don't play.

I hate myself. Why did I do this? How could I do this? Why couldn't I just tell her the ultimatum her dad gave me and tell her I love her and that we will just have to be together in super secret now? Wait. I love her? God I'm about to have Azzi knock me out so I'm forced to fall asleep. I deserve to be hit in the head with a bat. A metal one. Or a brick. No, a cinderblock.

I miss her so much. I miss the way she would hold me and kiss me like I was the most precious thing in the world. Like every part of me was perfect and beautiful. She didn't treat me like a man or "the man of the relationship". I was her girl as much as she was mine. But I had to go and ruin everything.

The worst part is that she doesn't know the truth. She doesn't know what her dad said. She probably thinks I hate her because, man, I was so mean to her that day. But I don't hate her at all. I love her. I do. Screw the circumstances and how long we'd been together, I love her. But I guess I can't have my cake and eat it too. Can't play for the huskies and be with the coach's daughter. That would be too good. I'd be too blessed. I need to stop crying and count my blessings. But this isn't about me! It's about y/n and what I did to her.

I run my hands through my hair and pull at the roots until it hurts so bad I stop. I start to pull again but I stop. She wouldn't want me to do that. I roll over on my stomach and squeeze my eyes shut. She would also want me to be able to fall asleep.

Y/n's pov

I ended up going to the game. I was going to back out but my parents really wanted me to. I think they might be getting worried about me and I don't want them to get me a therapist or send me to a camp for depressed people or anything.

Me and my mom sat beside each other on the plane ride to Dallas as my dad is on a separate plane with his team. It wasn't as bad as I dreaded. She never brought up Paige or my sexuality or that Clayton guy.

We play LSU first. My dad does have faith in his team, but he knows LSU is really good. I heard him talking to my mom about it last night. He told her they would have a solid chance if Paige could play. It was refreshing to hear him talk about her in a positive way that didn't have to do with me.

When our team comes out, the crowd goes wild. I clap out of respect but I don't even have the energy to be excited. My eyes instinctively land on Paige. She is acting as hyped up as usual as she comes out with her team, but there is a tiredness about her. I don't know if it's just because she isn't wearing makeup or if she didn't get a wink of sleep last night. I really need to stop thinking about her. She hurt me. She doesn't want me. I force my eyes to wander elsewhere, landing on the other team, LSU. I don't know how good they are, but they seem cocky and my dad says they're good. Better than us even.

My dad and Paige still seem to work together well. I guess they are professional enough to separate basketball from their personal lives. Paige has probably forgotten all about me now. That's how it seems. Like everything is back to normal. Like we never happened. It's what's best for her anyway.

We're down by ten points. It's only the second quarter, but we're not looking good. Everyone seems stressed. Especially my dad and even Paige. I guess he was right about LSU being good.

By halftime we're down by seventeen. I might not know much about basketball, but I do know what defense is and we are seriously not good at it. LSU just keeps making point after point after point.

"This isn't looking good," my mom mutters to me as we get up to go to the restroom.

We maneuver our way through the crowd until we're on our way to restroom. Being the family of a coach has its perks, including we get to use bathrooms for the staff, coaches and players down where the locker rooms and such are. The public restrooms are always packed, especially during halftime.

We walk down the hall and on our way, we pass Iowa's team. I recognize one of their players, Caitlin something. She's supposed to be really good. As if she felt me looking at her, she glances up at me and I instinctively look away from embarrassment. After we pass them, I don't know why, but I look back over my shoulder. Caitlin is still looking at me, smiling. I smile back and feel my cheeks heat up as I look away. What was that? I don't need to overthink it.

When halftime is over, our team seems to have regained some energy and confidence. We get two whole baskets in the third quarter, giving us four more points, but LSU keeps making three pointers, one after the other. This game is really fitting the depressing theme of my life.

We end up losing. By a lot. The team as a whole looks disappointed, but keep their heads held high. My dad I can tell is very distraught, but keeps it together with a smile on his face. Paige seems- no. I'm not going to analyze her or even look at her. I need to get over her, I remind myself. It's all about discipline and self control.

We still have to watch Iowa and South Carolina and then the final two.

Caitlin catches my eye again when Iowa comes out to warm up. Her hair is so glossy and dark, almost black. Her face is structured but in a feminine way, and  her eyes are round like a deer's. She's pretty. I scold myself for thinking it until I realize it's okay for me to find her attracted. It would be good for me to find other people attractive. It would help me get over Paige.

Caitlin is really good. Iowa is winning by halftime thanks to all the three pointers she's been making.

"22 is Caitlin Clark," my mom tell me, "she was player of the year this year."

That's probably how I recognize her. Now that I think about it, I remember Paige talking about her.

Iowa ends up winning against South Carolina. By this time my dad has joined me and my mom in the stands. He's sad but is accepting of their loss.

"Maybe next year with Paige," I hear him mutter to my mom.

"I'm not happy with that damn girl, but she knows how to play," he continues. Not happy with her? I thought my dad had gotten over it already. Guess not.

I'm excluded from the conversation as my parents talk about LSU and Iowa, specifically Caitlin and Angel.

By the fourth quarter, Caitlin and Angel have started getting sassy with each other. Just little looks and gestures that show their annoyance with each other. They're both kind of cocky. It's kind of hot though, the way Caitlin does that shrug when she gets a point and when she hypes up the crowd.

LSU end up winning. Their flamboyant coach is thrilled and so are the players. Angel does a mocking hand gesture at Caitlin, but she just ignores it. Angel kind of seems to be a bitch.

We drive back to our hotel and my parents go straight to bed. I, on the other hand, go to the bathroom and take a shower and precede to do my nightly routine. As I'm braiding my hair for the night, an instagram notification pops up on my phone.

caitlinclark22 started following you