Summer Sanders is going through it. The pressures of school are mounting, and her home life is completely falling apart. Feeling bored and lonely on a Saturday night, she decides to get buzzed and surprise her hookup buddy with her best lingerie. Th...
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"I'LL LET Y'ALL go a little early today," coach Taylor says. "I just wanna give my last few regards. First, I think y'all should congratulate yourselves on making it so far in the tournament. Two more wins, and we're off to the championships. Let's keep our eyes on the prize. That means I'm gonna be harder on you guys than I have been all season. I will not tolerate lateness, I will not tolerate low effort, and I will not tolerate trouble."
He gazes at me intensely after the last warning, then he settles on Ken in the crowd and does the same. Could he know? I don't think he should, besides the bruises on our faces that've mostly faded by now, there's no evidence from the fight. There has been a noticeable tension between everyone but I don't think it's bad enough for him to notice.
I wipe the sweat off my forehead with my back hand then place it back on my hip. I can't wait to get the hell out of here. I don't even bother using the showers anymore. As soon as we're dismissed, I rush back to my room to clean up.
"With that being said, y'all are free to go," coach says to my relief.
"Ah, ah ah," he stops Ken and I from following the rest to the locker room by pulling us by the back of our shirts like little kids. "Not you two boneheads. Y'all are to stay right where you are."
I drop my head back and groan. He definitely knows.
Ken sighs, dropping his head and rubbing his eyes.
When the last of the team disappears through the locker room door, coach steps up to me, his eyes blazing with heat.
"You," he hits my chest with his closed fist, "are gonna work this out."
"You," He does the same to Ken, "are gonna work this out. Right here, right now."
"Coach, let me explain-" Ken tries to plead, but coach cuts him off.
"Zip it. Hearing from coach Wilson, who heard it from one of his players, who heard it from a girl he was seeing, who heard it from her friend who drove a bloody Ken and rowdy Chris back to campus was enough," he says. "The only thing I wanna hear is you resolving this issue. I'm gonna stand outside those doors and you are not to touch it until you two make up."
"Yes coach." We say, knowing better than to try to do anything that could make him angrier.
Ken and I stand awkwardly when coach leaves, our eyes drift to the floor, ceiling, door, anything that could keep us from looking at each other.
"You wanna..." He scratches his head and gestures for a seat on the bleachers.
"I guess, we might as well." I shrug, following him and taking a seat in the first row.
We sit on opposite ends, until Ken hesitates a few times then finally decides to scoot closer.
