Chapter 1
The sounds from the practice field meet my ears before I see the green-striped grass. The cool fall air fills with shouting coaches and shoulder pads hitting together as players scrimmage. I zip up my fleece jacket to keep a chill from settling in. Fall mixed with football has always been my favorite time of the year. The memories of my high school days are literally under my feet as I hit the track that circles the field.
My walk slows as I see the cheerleaders I coach gathered a few yards away. We have the big homecoming game in four days and I hope they’re more focused at practice. Yesterday, I couldn’t get them to stop talking about what they were wearing to the dance and whose after party they would be going to.
I’m only four years older than the seniors on the squad, but my life has changed since I cheered on the very team I oversee today. Now I’m supposed to be the responsible one. The leader in charge. However, I resemble them more than I do a teacher. I’m five feet two inches tall and barely weigh over a hundred pounds. I pull my long blond hair back into a youthful ponytail most days and I can still kick any of their asses when it comes to back handsprings. It all adds up to one thing. I don’t think too many of them see me as an authority figure. Instead I seem to be viewed as an older peer and in some ways a bit of competition.
I’ve gained way too much attention from the male students since I walked into the school a couple months ago. I know what nickname they’ve given me. My last name, Tillman, is now Tilfman to most of the horny boys at the school. Ms. Tilfman, The Teacher I would Like to Fuck, man.
I first overheard the tagline when I followed behind a couple of the varsity players after a game. Their laughs came at my expense, and the talk of how they’d like to fuck me on my desk makes me rethink what the hell I was doing back at my old high school. It doesn’t seem that having access to the teacher’s lounge garnered me any respect in their eyes.
I stand unnoticed by the girls as they lean against the chain length fence around the track and watch the players warming up on the field. I am running about five minutes late today and the group could care less. I wait to announce that their babysitter has arrived and decide to see if they realize I’m even there.
“Look at him. God, he’s so freaking hot.” I watch ten heads turn and eye the prize, Daniel Johnson, the god-like quarterback with looks a movie star would envy. The cheerleaders giggle as, Marta, their head captain shares her Daniel induced lust with them. “And no one gets to enjoy how hot he is either. At least no one that we know of.”
“You don’t think he’s gay?” Brandy, the youngest on the squad, asks as everyone gasps and turns back around to eye her. I wait for the reaction of the other girls. Several of them have moved closer to poor Brandy. She may live to regret that question.
“No fucking way.” Marta takes charge and leaves no doubt where she stands. “He has the parents from hell. They never let him go out on the weekends. They’re afraid he’ll turn out like his crazy brother. That ‘s the rumor and the problem.”
“Marta’s right. His parents keep him locked up. Totally focused on sports.” Samantha the team slut chimes in with her opinion on Daniel’s lack of social involvement. “Believe me I’ve tried to corrupt him over the last two years. Nothing has worked.”
“I don’t want to know what you’ve subjected him to.” Marta rolls her eyes at Samantha and continues to stretch her legs.
Turning her head to the side, Marta sees me staring at her. “Look who’s here.” Her sarcastic tone makes me want to smack some respect into her.
“Yes, I’ve arrived and we need to practice our cheers. This will be the highest attended game of the year and I want you all to look sharp.” My words bring sighs and grunts from the girls but they get into formation and begin to practice.
I hand a set of cheers to Marta that I want them to perfect today. “These are the ones that need the most improvement. I want to see straight lines, so concentrate on your stances.”
I lean against the fence and stretch my arms out on the top pole as I watch them begin the first cheer. My attention strays as I peer over their hands and see Daniel pulling away from the offensive line and throw the football down the field. Most people would follow the ball and see if the receiver caught it or not. But my sight doesn’t leave Daniel’s body. He towers over the other boys on his team. His tight uniform reveals strong defined thighs. The fluid poise with which he throws reminds me of a prima ballerina more than a two hundred and twenty pound quarterback. He owns the field. He commands it.