Reina in a Strange Land Ch. 04

Dear readers,

I'm sorry this took so long, life intervened as usual. This chapter in particular comes from the heart, and your feedback and support continue to inspire me. Love it or hate it, please let me know, I love hearing from you and it makes me a better writer. A special thanks to fellow Literotica author EddieTheBastard for some editing help and wonderful insights.

Chapter 5 is already half done, so the wait shouldn't as long, I promise!

xoxo

Tanuki

As senior co-captains on the Varsity soccer team, Reina and Debbie got yelled at a lot by Coach Jamison. And tonight's practice was worse than usual, with the playoff final in two days. It started raining in the last half hour of practice, but she knew Coach wasn't going to let them go home early because of rain, despite the frigid New England weather. Wiping the rain from her face, Reina threw a look over at Debbie speeding the ball down the right side of the field, her dark brown ponytail swishing as she ran. They'd been playing together for so long they could read each other's minds. Debbie immediately lofted a curving cross to Reina in the center. She chest trapped the ball, splitting two defenders and from 30 yards out floated the ball up into the top right corner of the net over the goalie's outstretched hands. Reina immediately ran over and held out her hands, helping the goalie up off the soggy pitch.

"Damn you, Reina," muttered the goalie, her yellow keeper jersey now covered in mud.

"Sorry, Jess!" smiled Reina over her shoulder as she jogged back. Debbie came over to give her a high five, and then they heard Coach Jamison's booming voice.

"Sayama!" he yelled, stomping over toward them, his navy blue windbreaker soaked with rain. Reina knew she was in trouble if he used her last name. "You had Joanna wide open on the left side, why are you taking a shot from 30 yards out?"

Reina swallowed heavily as Coach Jamison was now standing in front of her, his thick arms in front of his chest. He was a good 8 inches taller than she, and was intimidating when he was angry. "Coach, I... I thought I could make that shot..." she tried to explain.

Coach Jamison just glared at her, shaking his head. "You're my center midfield, what's your job?"

"To control the ball and feed our strikers?" said Reina, visibly shrinking from the angry coach.

"That's right, you should be thinking pass, pass, pass!" shouted Mr. Jamison, his blue eyes boring into his star midfielder. "If I want you to think shoot, shoot, shoot, I'll put you at striker!"

"Dad," said Debbie, coming over behind Reina to put her hands on her best friend's shoulders. "She's got the best shot on the team."

"It's Coach to you," spat Mr. Jamison at his daughter, whose blue eyes he could see peeking over Reina's head. He lowered his eyes back to Reina, who had her arms wrapped around her chest, suddenly feeling chilled in the rainy October evening. "You won't be the best shot next year when you're in the ACC, will you 14?" he shouted. He called the girls by their numbers when he was particularly angry.

"No, sir," said Reina, fighting the urge to cry that was welling up in her chest. There were some things that always made her cry: Titanic, Japanese dramas, and Coach Jamison.

"You think the team revolves around you?" continued the coach, stepping forward until his face was only a foot from his star player. "You think they're here to make you look good?"

"No, sir, I don't think that!" protested Reina, looking down at her feet, her hands clutched in front of her. A few tears were now coming down, mixing with the rain on her cheeks.

"Look at me. You think you're the shit, don't you, 14, our little super star?" he added, unfazed by her hunched shoulders and downtrodden posture.

"No, Coach," choked Reina, tears coming down as she looked up at her angry coach. He was twice her size, and could be intimidating when he was like this.

"That's right, you're not. In Division 1, everyone is fast and skilled. Everyone can shoot at that level. You want that scholarship to UNC, you need to be a team player!" he shouted down at the trembling girl.

Jess the goalie had run up to the commotion, and she put her arm around Reina. They could all tell she was crying now, despite the rain. "Coach, she's our most unselfish player, you know that!" Two more girls came up to put their hands on Reina protectively.

The rain was really coming down now, and the coach looked around at the girls. Many of them were shivering, and several were giving him that look, that they gave him when he was too hard on a player. Reina was softly sobbing into the shoulder of his daughter Debbie, with Jess rubbing her back.

"Yes, I know she's unselfish," he said to Jess in annoyance. "She forgets it sometimes. Ok, practice is over, I don't want you girls getting sick before the big game." Then he spun and started picking up equipment around the field, with a few of the girls running to help him. Several other girls ran up to give Reina a hug and some comforting words before heading off the field, some toward the school locker room, and some toward the parking lot.

Debbie jogged over to chase down her dad, and Reina could hear her hushed voice yelling at her father. Debbie always defended her when Mr. Jamison was particularly hard on Reina.

Jess helped Reina over to the sideline where they collected their bags. "My mom's gonna freak when she sees all this mud, you ass," said Jess, pulling off her muddy yellow keeper jersey.

"Sorry Jess, you look so small, and the goal looks so big behind you," replied Reina, a smile starting to form on her face.

Jess laughed, glad to see her friend starting to cheer up. Jess gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Don't let our jerk coach get you down, you're still the best. You gonna be alright?"

Reina nodded, her throat too tight to talk. "Ok, I gotta go babe, my mom's here, see you tomorrow?"

"Okay," said Reina, waving to Jess as she jogged over to the parking lot to her mom's Lexus. She opened the door and threw her muddy jersey in the foot well, then jumped in. Before the door closed, Reina could hear Jessica's mom yelling at her, and she smiled.

As the Lexus drove away, Reina pulled a dry sweatshirt out of her gym bag and pulled it over herself, then she glanced over to where Debbie and Mr. Jamison had been arguing. Debbie was walking over to her, while her father walked off toward the faculty/staff parking lot.

"Don't let my Dad get you down, Reina," she said, coming up to put her arm on Reina's shoulder. "It's just sexual frustration cause you're so hot." She squeezed Reina's boob through her uniform.

"Yeah right," said Reina, though she appreciated her friend's effort to cheer her up. "He hates me."

Debbie shook her head. "No sweetie, you've been playing for his varsity squad since you were in the 8^th grade. He just expects a lot out of you. He knows the college scouts are gonna be at the game Saturday too."

Reina sighed. "He was so nice to me back in the 8^th grade."

Debbie giggled. "Yah, cause you were a cute little thing! You were his little ankle breaker, juking all the senior girls."

Reina laughed, remembering how small she felt back then playing with the Varsity girls. "They were so mean to me."

Debbie roared with laughter. "Duh! You were this flat chested little Asian chick schooling them! The middle school team was so mad he stole you from us! We would have gone undefeated if we had you."

"Me too," said Reina. They'd taken her from all her friends and put her with resentful older girls.

"Anyway, don't let him get you down. I know it's tough having a crush on your coach!" said Debbie, poking Reina in the side.

"Deb, I do not, I swear!" protested Reina, mortified as she stared open mouthed at her teammate.

"Oh come on," laughed Debbie. "I see how you look at him. I know he's my dad, but he's hooottt, half the team wants to bang him."

"Oh god, Debbie!" exclaimed Reina, horrified. "How can you talk about your dad like that?"

Debbie shrugged. "It's not like I think he's hot, but I know what the girls say when I'm not around, right? Don't try to deny it, Rei."

Reina blushed. "Wha--? No! I--I never heard anyone say anything like that..."

Debbie laughed, pushing Reina. "You're such a bad liar!"

Reina giggled. "I mean... he is kinda cute..."

"You!" exclaimed Debbie. "You little tramp, you keep your dirty hands off my dad!"

Reina laughed as Debbie poked and tickled her. Reina knew the girls all talked about their coach in the locker room, and sometimes even in front of Debbie, since they knew it didn't seem to bother her.

"Did you know he used to live in Japan?" continued Debbie with a sly look on her face.

"I heard you mention that once," said Reina. "Why?"

"Well, he probably gets flashbacks to Japanese slave girls when he sees you. That's why he's always making you do extra pushups and sit-ups."

"Deb, don't say that!" wailed Reina, punching her friend on the arm.

"It's true," nodded Debbie. "He doesn't stand there and watch anyone else when they're doing sit-ups."

Reina gasped. "Wah? He doesn't watch me! Wait... does he?"

Debbie laughed, hugging her suddenly. "You're so cute and naïve, I just love it!" Then her hands dropped to grab Reina's ass and pull her hips suggestively against herself. "Save that tight little bod for me, ok?"

"Debbie, stop!" cried Reina, both girls giggling as she tried to push her friend away. Debbie finally let go, then took Reina's hands in hers, her expression turning serious.

"Ok, I gotta go, babe," Debbie said, giving her hands a squeeze. "My mom is picking me up today - it's her night so she's taking me shopping. I don't want to see my dad anyway after the way he treated you, jerk! You'll be ok right? Call me if you need some love!"

Reina gave her best friend a good hug. Debbie always flirted with her when she was feeling down, and it always cheered her up. Reina didn't know what she would do without her best friend. "Go Deb, don't worry about me," she said, her throat getting tight again. "Just have fun, my dad's coming to get me." Reina watched as Debbie jogged over to her mom's Mercedes wagon. She laughed and gave her the finger when she saw Debbie making a crude gesture at her before she climbed into the car.

Reina looked around the parking lot, and realized she was the last one. Her father was nowhere to be seen, so she pulled out her phone and called him, but there was no answer. Dad, you coming? she texted and put her phone back in her sweatshirt pocket. She'd been standing in the rain for several minutes now, and her sweatshirt was getting soaked. Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out. Running late, can you catch a ride home? Reina sighed. Her dad did this to her way too often. If he'd texted her 5 minutes before she could have gone with Debbie. It was a mile to her home, so she figured she might as well start walking.

After walking just a few minutes, Reina's sweatshirt was soggy and cold, so she picked up the pace, her cleated shoes clicking on the concrete sidewalk. She wished she had brought her warmup pants, because her bare legs below her shorts were soaked, the driving rain stinging as it struck her legs. She stopped, wincing in pain when her calves cramped up from the cold as sometimes happened after practice. She bent over to stretch them but her legs were just too cold. She limped on for another minute, the rain growing so strong she could barely see, and her teeth were chattering. Starting to get scared, Reina pulled out her iPhone to call one of the other parents on the team, but the rain instantly drenched it and made it impossible to operate the screen. Reina quickly put it away, for when her phone got wet it sometimes wouldn't work for hours. When she heard the low rumble of a sports car, she turned to see a silver Porsche pull up beside her on the street. It was hard to see inside but she recognized Coach Jamison's car, just as the window rolled down.

"Reina, get in the car, I'll give you a ride!" shouted her coach from the driver's seat. The passenger seat was empty so she guessed he was alone in the car, and Debbie was with her mom. Mr. Jamison and his wife had divorced just six months prior.

"It's ok," shouted Reina, trying to hide her limp as the car slowly kept pace with her. "I-I'm al-almost home!" she shouted, her body so frigid it was difficult to talk. Debbie said her dad loved that car more than life itself, and Reina wouldn't dare get mud on his expensive carpet and leather seats. Besides, right then, he was the last person she wanted to ride with.

Suddenly the car stopped and Mr. Jamison jumped out. Reina watched in confusion as he ran to the front of the car and opened the hood, making her wonder if his car broke down. But under the hood was no engine, just a duffel bag, from which he grabbed a big beach towel. He closed the hood, running toward Reina, his Samba soccer shoes splashing in the puddles of the street. "No, you don't have to!" shouted Reina, moving away as he held up the towel. Mr. Jamison ignored her, wrapping the towel around the trembling girl and firmly guiding the resisting Reina toward the car, his strong arms moving her 110 lb frame like it was nothing.

"No, I'll g-get your c-car all dirty!" she protested, her teeth chattering as he opened the side door.

"I don't care about that," shouted Mr. Jamison over the roar of the rain. "Get in, you'll catch pneumonia!"

Reina let him guide her into the low bucket seat, all wrapped in the towel, which she figured would at least protect the leather. Mr. Jamison closed the door behind her and ran over to his side, hopping into the driver's seat.

"Oh my god, I'm s-sorry, you're all soaked!" said Reina, looking over from the passenger seat. She kept the towel tightly wrapped around herself, but her legs were still exposed and her feet felt like ice cubes in her water-logged cleats. Her teeth had stopped chattering but she couldn't stop shivering.

"Damned New England weather! I'm fine, dear, don't worry about me," said Mr. Jamison, cranking the heat in the car to full blast. He looked at Reina for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

"I'm sorry I'm too hard on you sometimes," he said suddenly. "You're a natural, a gifted player, so I want to get the best out of you." Then before she could respond, he started driving, the acceleration pushing her back in the seat. Reina looked at him, his eyes peering out the foggy windscreen to see the dark road ahead of them. She took advantage of his focus on driving to look at his strong chin and handsome face. Reina sighed. Mr. Jamison was her coach and best friend's dad, and she was so confused how she felt about him. He was so mean to her on the soccer field, and yet he'd always been nice to her when she visited his home, treating her like his own daughter. She didn't know a lot of men, and none of them were anywhere as handsome and attractive as her soccer coach. He could be really mean to her all practice, and then one kind word or compliment and she'd feel her insides turning to mush.

Reina cried out suddenly when her foot cramped up, and she reached down into the foot well, trying to massage her foot through the wet shoe.

"Are you injured?" said Mr. Jamison, stopping the car in alarm.

"Just cramps," said Reina, wincing as she sat back up. "I'm ok."

Mr. Jamison started driving again, and in a couple minutes he reached Reina's home, pulling into her driveway as close to the front door as he could. The rain was still pouring down and the lights were all off since no one was home. Then Reina remembered.

"Oh, damn! I... don't have a key," she exclaimed, confused. "My dad was supposed to pick me up so I didn't bring one."

"Oh," said Mr. Jamison. "Well... no problem, I'll take you to my house. Deb's not home but you can help yourself to some of her dry clothes."

"Oh-ok-kay," stammered Reina, her slender frame still so cold it was hard to speak properly. Mr. Jamison backed out of the driveway and drove the mile distance to his own home. He parked in the garage and got out quickly, opening the passenger side door and helping Reina keep the towel wrapped around her as she gingerly got to her feet, her cramped leg bent awkwardly. He closed the door and guided Reina into the house with a firm grip on her arm through the towel. Reina stole a look at her coach's chiseled physique and strong jaw, and felt a thrill as he walked her through the front door into a small entrance way just outside the kitchen. She loved the feel of her slender arm in his strong grip. At over 6 foot with a wide muscular frame, he made her feel small and feminine.

"You can take off your shoes here," he said to her, pointing at the large rubber door mat they were standing on.

"Uh, ok," said Reina, mesmerized by the blue eyes of her coach as he looked at her. He'd been so angry and scary just 15 minutes before, and now his eyes looked warm and caring. She stood there with the now damp towel clutched to her chest. She imagined him tell her to take off more than just her shoes, and she blushed.

"Are you ok, dear?" said Mr. Jamison, looking at her with concern.

Reina's eyes widened, wondering if he could see her blushing. She could only nod, still clutching the towel tightly to her chest, and unable to look away from his gaze. Stop staring, idiot! she thought. It was moments like this, when he was nice to her, that her crush would blossom and she'd start acting stupid.

"Here, I'll take the wet towel, that's not helping you get dry anymore," he added, reaching out.

"No!" exclaimed Reina, clutching the towel. Then she remembered she wasn't naked underneath it. "Uh, okay, sorry," said Reina, unwrapping the wet towel from around her shoulders and handing it over. Her wet uniform clung tightly to her body, and she looked up at him expectantly, but he didn't give her a second look, instead turning to look around the room.

The kitchen was dark, in fact the whole house was dark, and silent. "Damn, power must be out," he said. He turned to look at Reina. "Reina, honey, you know where everything is, why don't you go upstairs and take a warm shower, that should help with the cramping. There should still be plenty of hot water. Then grab some clothes from Debbie's room. I'll grab some flashlights."

Mr. Jamison disappeared into the dark house, so Reina sat down on the mat and untied her shoelaces, pulling off the damp, tight shoes carefully so as not to get mud everywhere. When she pulled off her left shoe, that foot cramped up as well, and she let out a soft cry of pain, furiously massaging the arch of her foot through the muddy wet sock.

"Reina, you can leave your muddy soccer gear on the mat, I'll throw it in the laundry, ok?" shouted her coach from somewhere in the dark house.

"I'll do it, I know where it is," shouted Reina into the darkness. She pulled down her muddy socks over her shin guards and placed them next to the muddy shoes, then removed her shin guards and placed them with the socks. Mr. Jamison appeared carrying an LED lantern, which he placed on the kitchen table.

"You can take this one, hon," he said, before heading upstairs with another lantern. "I'm going to go take a shower myself, just head up and use the guest shower when you're ready."

"Ok," said Reina, getting up to take her gear to the laundry room. She took a single step and then fell to the floor, her right calf painfully seizing up along with her foot.

"Reina, what happened?" exclaimed Mr. Jamison, rushing to her side. Reina turned to a sitting position, rubbing her locked up calf muscle.

"Just a Charley Horse," she said, wincing in pain.

Mr. Jamison quickly sat down in front of her, and took her leg, straightening it and putting her foot in his lap. He gently held her foot in his hand and bent it toward her.