"It was a complicated knot." Mia said, completely straight-faced, like she genuinely expecting him to buy it.
Daniel finally looked up. "Was it?"
"Double loop. Very advanced." Mia said, and for one small second she almost smiled at her own joke before remembering she was supposed to be furious.
A few of the girls near the water table went quiet, pretending to stretch, pretending not to listen.
Mia felt the eyes on her back and hated it. Two years she'd spent making sure nobody on this team looked at her like she didn't belong, like she was still the girl who'd walked onto the pitch for tryouts in borrowed cleats, hoping nobody would notice the soles were held together with tape.
She'd earned her spot. She'd earned every minute of it. And now, because of one new coach and one bad morning, she was right back to feeling like she had something to prove.
"I've started every match since I made this team." Mia said, humor gone, voice sharp now.
"Then this is a good time to learn that starting isn't a right." Daniel said, his eyes calm in a way that made her want to throw something. "It's earned every single day. Including today." He added, steady.
"You don't even know me." Mia snapped.
"I know your file. I know your stats. I know you were late." Daniel said evenly. He set the clipboard down on the bench between them, an oddly gentle motion for how hard his voice was.
"None of that tells me who you are. All of it tells me what you did this morning."
She wanted to argue. She had six good arguments lined up, sharp ones, the kind that would've worked on the last coach, who'd let her get away with almost anything because she scored the goals he needed and he didn't care how she got there. But there was something about the way Daniel Reyes stood there jaw tight, spine straight, not even a little bit sorry, that told her arguing wasn't going to move him an inch.
"Fine. Bench me... watch us lose without me." Mia said, voice tight, already turning away.
"We won't lose." Daniel said simply.
"Confident." Mia muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear.
"It's called preparation, Torres. You should try it sometime." Daniel called after her, and if she hadn't been so angry she might've noticed the corner of his mouth twitch.
They did not win. They tied, 1-1, on a scrappy second-half equalizer that came off a set piece Mia could have buried in her sleep from twenty yards out. She sat through all ninety minutes on the bench with her arms folded and her jaw clenched so hard it ached by the final whistle, watching Sofia Delgado, the winger her rise had pushed to the sideline two seasons ago get a chance to prove herself in Mia's place.
Sofia didn't waste it. She played hard, made two dangerous runs down the wing, nearly set up the winning goal in stoppage time. Mia clapped for her, because that was what you did, because the team came first even when it cost you something.
But she hated how much it stung, sitting there useless in a warm-up jacket while somebody else got to be the answer.
After the final whistle, the locker room cleared out fast, the kind of quiet that settles over a team after a result nobody's satisfied with. Mia stayed behind after the others filtered out to the parking lot, retaping an ankle that didn't need retaping, needing something to do with her hands that wasn't punching a locker.
She heard footsteps in the hallway and didn't need to look up to know whose they were.
"You could've told me you were coming in early tomorrow... I'd have waited to lock up." Daniel said from the doorway, his tone almost gentle.
"I don't need you to wait for me." Mia said, still not looking at him.
"Clearly." Daniel said dryly. He leaned against the frame, arms still crossed, but some of the sharpness had gone out of his voice. "You're a good player, Torres. Maybe the best one on this roster. That was never the problem." He said, more seriously.
"Then what is?" Mia asked, finally meeting his eyes.
"You think being good means the rules don't apply to you." Daniel said, like he was stating a fact rather than an accusation. "They apply to everyone. Especially the ones who are talented enough to start believing they're the exception."
"You don't know anything about me." Mia said, temper flaring hot and fast.
"I know you were late because you didn't respect the schedule I put in front of this team on day one." Daniel said, voice staying level even as hers climbed. "I know you sat on that bench for ninety minutes and didn't say a single word to your teammates, when they needed you cheering instead of sulking through it. And I know..." he said, quieter now, almost reluctant, "that if you'd shown up on time this morning, we would win that match by two goals. Easy. That's not a guess, Torres. It's a game film. I watched enough of you over the offseason to know exactly what you're capable of when you're actually on the field." He finished, watching her carefully.
She hated that he was right.
"So what, you've got a whole highlight reel of me?" Mia asked, one eyebrow raised, trying to sound unimpressed and failing a little.
"More like a scouting report." Daniel said, almost amused now. "You're better than you think you are. That's the problem. You've stopped needing to try, and it shows."
"Careful, Coach... that almost sounded like a compliment." Mia said, arms still crossed but the edge in her voice softened just slightly.
"Don't get used to it." Daniel said, and this time there was no missing the small, reluctant smile he was clearly fighting.
"Are you done?" Mia asked, voice tight enough to crack despite the moment of almost-warmth.
"For now." Daniel said, almost gently.
She grabbed her bag off the bench, shoulder brushing past him on her way to the door close enough to catch the smell of rain still clinging to his jacket, close enough that her pulse did something stupid and entirely unwanted.
"Torres." Daniel called after her.
She stopped in the doorway, back to him, refusing to turn around and let him see whatever was happening on her face right now.
"Seven a.m. tomorrow. Don't be late again." Daniel said, low and even.
"Wouldn't dream of it, Coach." Mia said, her voice catching on the last word despite herself.
"And Torres..." Daniel added, just as she stepped through the door.
"What." Mia said, not quite turning around, bracing for one more lecture.
"Nice knot." Daniel said, and she could hear the smile in it even without seeing his face.
Mia didn't answer. Mostly because she didn't trust her own voice not to laugh, and she was absolutely not about to give him the satisfaction.
She walked out before he could hear anything else, and she didn't slow down until she was out in the parking lot with the cold air hitting her face, telling herself the tightness in her chest was nothing but frustration. It had to be... she'd known this man for exactly six days. She didn't have room in her life not this season, not with the scout rumors already circulating, not with everything she'd built resting on being taken seriously to feel anything about Daniel Reyes beyond wanting to prove him wrong.
She was still telling herself that when her phone buzzed in her bag. A text from an unknown number, sent to the team group chat by mistake... or maybe not by mistake at all.
Heard the new coach benched his own star player in the opener. Somebody want to tell me what THAT'S about?
Mia's stomach dropped. She didn't recognize the number. But she recognized the account tag underneath it; a local sports reporter who'd been sniffing around Ironbridge all preseason, the same one everyone whispered was connected to the scout circuit.
Word was already getting out. And the season had barely started.
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