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Billionaire Flawed 2(119)

By:Tia Siren


Come on guys, what time do you call this? Sam said as his team began to idle onto the pitch for Friday evening practice. Three times around the pitch, he shouted. He hated tardiness, and they were going to pay for it.

Do we have to, coach, William Mayes asked. He was the alpha male of the team He was the one that got all the women and all the attention.

Mayes, if you don't get on with it, I'll bust your ass. Clear?

Yes coach, he said as he started to jog.

When William got to the far side of the pitch, Sam heard Cora shouting at him. Hi William, fancy coming to my place after practice?

Sam's players respected him. He was hard but fair, and after the serious business was done, he enjoyed a joke as much as anyone. But lately something was eating at him, and it made him ill-tempered.

Eventually, the team completed three laps, and Sam met them in the middle of the pitch. He split defense and offense and asked them to carry out various drills. He stood aside and watched ash they carried out what he'd asked them to.

Lizzie you are useless. Honestly, you couldn't dance your way out of a paper bag, Cora said.

Sam looked across at the cheerleaders and wondered why Cora had it in for Lizzie. Okay, Lizzie sometimes found it difficult to co-ordinate with the others but aesthetically Lizzie was by far the best of the bunch. She had the shapeliest legs and the cutest ass and the biggest breasts. All in all, she was very pleasing to the eye. Lizzie also wasn't stupid; she'd finished high school Cum Laude and was doing very well in her law studies.

After practice, Sam kept his players in the dressing room while he lectured them on the merits of being on time. He went through the team for the forthcoming game on Sunday and gave a rousing motivational speech about the history of the college team and how they shouldn't let that be tarnished in any way.

The cheerleaders were getting impatient outside. They'd gathered around the changing room door waiting for the boys to come out. Some of them had serious boyfriends in the team; others were just waiting around on the off chance they may get laid.

Lizzie, how come you never have a boyfriend? Cora asked. You aren't a Lizzie Lezzie are you?

Shut up Cora, Lizzie said. Just because I don't sleep with every man in town, like you.

Lizzie Lezzie, yes, that has a ring to it. That's what we're going to call you from now on. Do you like dancing with girls Lizzie Lezzie? Cora said.

Leave me alone, Lizzie said. She left the group and headed back to her student lodgings alone.

What a nerd, Cora said. She can't dance, and she can't get man.

Are you talking about Lizzie? William asked.

Yes. From now on she's called Lizzie Lezzie.

Why?

Because she never has a boyfriend, Cora said.

William slung his bag over his shoulder and laughed. That's a great name for her. She's a real nerd.

Roger, the tallest man on the team, came out of the changing room. Who's a nerd?

Lizzie, you know, the weird cheerleader, William said. Cora reckons she's a lesbian. Lizzie Lezzie she's called her.

No way is she a lezzie, Roger said. I bet I can get her into bed.

William, Cora, and the others looked at Roger as if he was from another planet. No way on this earth, William said.

Wanna bet? Roger replied.

Sure, what's the bet?

That I can screw her before the end of this semester, Roger said.

William shook Roger's hand, and the bet was placed. We'll invite her to BJ's after the game on Sunday. We'll get her drunk, and you can have your way with her, William added.

The group walked across the football pitch to the campus, leaving Sam shaking his head. He'd heard their ridiculous bet and felt sorry for Lizzie.





I've never seen such a shower of shit in all my life, Sam bellowed at the top of his voice. Call yourselves football players. You're all nancy boys; that's what you are. I'd have done better sending out a group of eleven-year-olds.

Sam didn't often lose his temper, but he had never seen a team under his management play so terribly.

Roger and William. You were pathetic today. You'd better play better in the next game, or you'll be off the team. Now all of you get out of my sight.

The players drifted out of the dressing room, leaving Sam to contemplate what a rotten day it had been. When he'd tidied up, he locked up and walked across the pitch to his car. This had to be the worst team he'd ever managed, he thought. If they didn't start playing better soon, his job would be on the line.

He put his bag in the car and started to drive home. But faced with the prospect of an empty apartment after such a heavy defeat, he decided to stop by BJ's.

When he pulled up outside, his mind flashed back to all the glorious hours he'd spent at BJ's celebrating season after season of great footballing success. Those days seemed a long way off now. That was back in the days when kids were fit, before computers and ridiculous games like Play Station. Kids played out in the street, rode their bikes and were fit. Sometimes he despaired when he saw the freshmen turning up to their first practice. What it all meant for the future of the USA, he didn't know, but he didn't think it was positive.