Rumor Has It I'm Dating the Football Captain

Chapter 59: Chapter 59: Her Best Analyst

Audrey walked into the training complex at exactly seven in the morning.

The air was sharp and freezing. The stadium lights were still humming loudly against the dark morning sky. She clutched a thick blue folder tightly to her chest. Her hands were shaking slightly, but she forced herself to keep her posture completely straight.

She did not walk toward the stands. She marched straight to the touchline.

Coach Davies was arranging bright orange training cones on the wet grass. He heard her footsteps and looked up. His face immediately pulled into a harsh, condescending scowl.

"Ellis," Davies snapped. He dropped a cone onto the grass. "I thought I made myself completely clear yesterday. Spectators belong in the stands."

Audrey did not stop walking. She stopped exactly two feet away from him. Her heart hammered against her ribs in a frantic rhythm, but she kept her chin up.

"I am not a spectator," Audrey stated clearly. "I am the senior sports journalism intern. And I am here to deliver my tactical report to Head Coach Miller."

Davies scoffed loudly. He crossed his arms over his thick winter jacket. "Miller is busy reviewing film. Give the report to me. I will throw it in the trash where it belongs."

"No," Audrey said.

Davies stepped forward. He tried to use his height to intimidate her, looming over her small frame.

"You are a distraction," Davies warned. His voice was low and mean. "The boys do not need a girl playing reporter on the pitch. You are only here because Calloway felt sorry for you. Now that he is gone, your free pass is revoked. Get off my pitch."

Audrey squeezed the blue folder. The words stung. A month ago, she would have believed him. She would have turned around and cried in her dorm room.

But Mason had told her the truth. She earned her spot.

"I am not leaving," Audrey said. She looked him right in the eyes. "I do my job. You do yours."

"Is there a problem out here?"

A deep, booming voice echoed from the dressing room tunnel.

Coach Miller walked out onto the grass. He held a steaming cup of black coffee in one hand. He looked between Davies and Audrey with a heavy, annoyed frown.

"Coach," Davies said quickly. He completely changed his tone. "I was just telling the intern to clear the pitch before morning training starts. We need the space."

Audrey turned to Coach Miller. She held out the blue folder.

"My tactical breakdown on the knockout fixtures," Audrey said. Her voice did not shake at all. "You asked for it on your desk by eight. I brought it directly to you."

Coach Miller took the folder. He opened it.

He read the first page in complete silence. The cold morning wind rustled the papers.

Davies shifted his weight nervously. "Coach, we cannot have students interfering with professional coaching strategies. It is highly inappropriate."

"Quiet, Davies," Miller grunted.

Coach Miller flipped to the second page. His thick eyebrows raised slightly. He stared at the handwritten diagrams. He looked up at Audrey.

"You noticed the shift in their defensive pivot," Coach Miller said. It was not a question.

"They overcompensate when their midfield loses possession," Audrey explained confidently. "If Jackson presses the center, they will panic. They will leave the right wing completely open for a counterattack. You can exploit that gap."

Coach Miller closed the folder with a loud smack. He looked at Davies.

"Davies," Coach Miller barked. "Ellis stays on the touchline. If she needs to stand on the pitch to get her notes, she stands on the pitch. Do not ever tell my best analyst to sit in the stands again."

Davies turned completely pale. He looked absolutely humiliated. "But Coach..."

"End of discussion," Miller ordered loudly.

He looked back at Audrey. A tiny, rare smile touched the corner of his mouth.

"Good work, Ellis," Coach Miller said. "Be at practice this afternoon. I want you tracking Jackson’s speed on that right wing."

Audrey smiled. A massive, victorious smile spread across her face.

"I will be there, Coach," Audrey promised.

The Florida heat was absolutely suffocating.

Mason sat on a wooden bench in the academy dressing room. The air smelled incredibly heavy. It reeked of stale sweat, chlorine from the recovery pools, and bitter medical tape.

Every single muscle in his body burned. His lungs felt tight and exhausted. Sweat dripped constantly down his neck, soaking his gray training shirt until it stuck uncomfortably to his skin.

He bent down slowly. His joints ached with every movement. He carefully unwrapped the thick white athletic tape from his right ankle.

A sharp, violent throb of pain shot straight up his leg.

He gritted his teeth. He breathed heavily through his nose. He did not hide the pain this time. He did not pretend he was totally fine.

The academy medic walked past holding a digital tablet.

"Calloway," the medic called out. He stopped in front of the bench. "How is the joint today?"

Mason looked up. Two days ago, he would have lied smoothly. He would have smiled and said he felt perfect to protect his ranking.

"It hurts," Mason admitted. His voice was incredibly raspy from shouting on the pitch all morning. "It is stiff. The swelling went down, but the pain is sharp. I need a heavy ice wrap and anti-inflammatories before the afternoon session begins."

The medic looked highly surprised. Most tier one recruits lied about their injuries just to look tough.

"Honesty is smart," the medic said approvingly. He grabbed a massive plastic ice pack from the cooler nearby. "Keep your weight off it for the next hour. I will wrap it tight. Do not push the sprints today."

Mason leaned his head back against the cold metal lockers. He closed his eyes. The ice stung his swollen skin instantly, but the numbing relief was amazing.

He was entirely exhausted. The physical pressure of the scouts watching every single move was heavy. But the mental relief of finally being honest felt completely liberating.

He reached into his kit bag. He pulled out his brand new phone.

He opened his messages.

Mason: Are you busy?

The screen showed she was typing immediately.

Audrey: Call me.

Mason hit the call button. He pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hi," Audrey answered softly.

"Hi," Mason breathed out. The sheer exhaustion in his voice was impossible to hide.

"You sound terrible," Audrey noted gently.

"I feel terrible," Mason confessed. He kept his eyes closed. "My ankle is throbbing. The humidity makes it impossible to breathe. I just want to sleep in a dark room for three days."

Audrey smiled softly on the other end of the line. It felt incredibly good to hear him complain. It meant he was actually trusting her with the truth.

"Did you talk to the medic?" Audrey asked.

"Yes. I am sitting with a massive ice pack right now," Mason said. "It helps. But I am miserable. Tell me something good so I stop focusing on the pain."

Audrey leaned back in her office chair in the journalism room. She felt a huge burst of pride swelling in her chest.

"I handled Davies," Audrey announced.

The line went quiet for a second.

"You did what?" Mason asked.

"I walked right onto the pitch this morning," Audrey explained happily. "I handed my tactical report directly to Coach Miller. Davies tried to kick me out again. He told me I was just a distraction."

Mason’s voice instantly dropped into a protective, dangerous growl. "He said what to you?"

"Let me finish," Audrey laughed. "Coach Miller read my report. He looked right at Davies and told him to shut up."

Mason let out a loud, genuine laugh. The sound was rough and tired, but it was incredibly happy.

"He told Davies to shut up?" Mason asked in disbelief.

"In front of half the team," Audrey confirmed proudly. "He called me his best analyst. He told Davies I get to stand wherever I want."

"You are amazing," Mason said. His voice was filled with complete awe. "I knew you did not need me to fight your battles."

"I missed having you stand behind me," Audrey admitted quietly. "But it felt really good to stand my own ground."

"I am so incredibly proud of you, Ellis," Mason murmured.

They sat in comfortable silence for a minute. The long distance was still awful. The miles between them were completely frustrating. But the heavy wall of secrets and fake smiles was totally gone.

"Leo texted me this morning," Mason said suddenly. "He said Chloe threatened to throw him in the campus lake if he ever gave his hoodies to anyone else."

"She did," Audrey laughed. "She is terrifying. But they are completely happy. Leo brings her iced coffee every single morning now. He follows her around like a loyal bodyguard."

"Good. He deserves a break," Mason sighed. He shifted his weight on the wooden bench. He let out a small, accidental groan of pain as his ankle moved.

"Go rest your ankle," Audrey ordered gently. "Stop talking. Just sit there and let the ice work."

"Talk to me," Mason requested. His voice was a soft, tired plea. "Just tell me about your day. I want to hear your voice while I sit here."

Audrey smiled warmly. She looked at her open laptop screen.

"Okay," Audrey agreed. "Well, Ben spilled his coffee on the keyboard this morning. He panicked and tried to dry it with a dirty towel..."

She kept talking. She described the boring details of the journalism office. She talked about the terrible cafeteria food. She listened to Mason’s breathing slowly even out on the other end of the line.

He was miles away, hurting and exhausted. She was sitting in a cramped, chilly office.

But they were finally completely honest with each other. And that made the distance feel entirely completely bearable.

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