Coach Bishop stood on the sidelines as the soccer team's Individual Training Week started. Each player would have a session of training with the coach privately. Kiera, right now, was doing drills, kicking the ball in between cones, around cones, into small targets, and the such. Soon, after Kiera finished running laps, Bishop stopped her. "Why were you hanging out with Chez?" he asked. Kiera looked at him quizzically. "Why does it concern you?" she asked, her English accent beginning to heat up. Bishop shrugged. "Because, he warns people not to be around him for a reason."
"Well, maybe he's lying to himself...you don't know that."
"I know enough to-"
"Will you shut it? You know nothing at all. No one does. He doesn't allow it. But that'll change..." she said, and Bishop boiled over.
"Laps, now."
"How many, Coach?" Kiera asked, her voice now filled with anger.
"...25..."
So, she began, as Bishop left the field....