Once Upon A Half-Time 1(27)
The field quieted. Everyone watched. Just my luck. I gritted my teeth.
“Yes, coach.”
“We only got a six-week training camp, rookie. Start figuring out what the fuck you’re doing on my field.”
“Don’t worry about me, Coach. I got this covered.”
“You think so? Then tell me why I’m bitch-slapping our first-round draft choice after every goddamned play. What’s the problem? Is it too hot out here for you?”
“No, Coach.”
“Is it harder than you thought it’d be?”
Yes.
“No, Coach.”
“You miss playing in college?”
Certainly felt more welcoming.
“No, Coach.”
“Maybe you were hot shit on campus, rookie. But here you’re just the filth we scrape off the bottom of our cleats.”
It took a lot to piss me off, but we were getting pretty damn close. “Yes, Coach.”
“You better shape the fuck up. Memorize the playbook. Run the routes. Block the pass rushers. Keep Hawthorne out of the goddamned backfield. Do your goddamned job or you won’t have one by the end of this camp.”
“Yes, Coach.”
He’d already walked away, blowing the whistle to dismiss the team from practice.
Fuck me.
I stayed behind, gathering the team’s equipment. It was worse after practice, when I was tired and irritated. Jack waited by his bag, sipping Gatorade before tossing his gear at me.
“You good?” Jack asked, watching as I hobbled with his stuff, Cole’s pads, and two of Bryon’s bags—that cocksucker filled his duffle with extra bricks to piss me off.
“Yeah. Me and Coach Thompson had a nice heart-to-heart.”
“From where I was standing, it looked more like your lips to his ass.”
“He said his piece. I said mine. We’re on the same page now.”
“I know that page. Looks like a pink slip.”
“Anyone ever tell you what a funny asshole you are?”
“Easy, rookie.” He slapped my shoulder with a grin. “You’re doing fine. It’ll take some adjustment. And everyone’s gonna piss off the coach at one point. Gotta make the example out of you since you’re the playboy.”
More like whipping boy. “I’ll take one for the team.”
“Yeah, you’re real magnanimous. Who you gonna marry now to get him off your ass?”
“You, Jack. Told him the truth about us. Said we were real cuddle-buddies.”
“Just as long as everyone knows I’m the big spoon.”
We dumped the equipment in the facility, and I took my shower. But before I could leave for the night, the guys hollered at me and the other two offensive rookies.
“You’re meeting us at McCree’s Bar in an hour,” Caleb said. “You rookies owe us a round.”
More than a round I bet.
As much as I loved a good hazing, nothing good happened when half the team got blitzed. At least in public, our shampoo bottles wouldn’t mysteriously fill with stone-ground mustard, and our clothes wouldn’t magically transform into tutus and Little Bo Peep costumes.
It’d be an expensive night, probably dropping a grand on food and drink for the guys, but I expected it. Just part of paying my dues. I promised to get to the bar early enough to reserve the tables, but my path out of the facility was blocked. I spun the corner only to come face-to-face with a gallon of attitude stuffed into a pint-sized cup.
Her toddler squealed first. My agent, Piper, didn’t bother saying hello.
“You don’t answer my calls. You don’t come to see me.” Piper wagged a finger at me. “You ask Cole what happens when I’m ignored. You won’t win that game, Mr. Reed.” She pointed to her tummy, just barely bumped with a baby. “I’m hungry, cranky, sick, and my newest client can’t seem to stay out of trouble.”
My agent was a lovely woman—beautiful, determined, and a little cube of brown sugar bubbling molten.
Fortunately, her two-year-old was much more agreeable. I grabbed the meatball and swung her into my arms. Rose was getting bigger, but she was still a bundle of giggles with two puff-ball pigtails.
“What’s up, Piper?” I asked.
“You’re married?”
“Barried!” Rose repeated.
“You never said I couldn’t get married.” I set the kid on my shoulders. “You specifically said no skydiving, motorcycling, jet-skiing. You said nothing about marriage.”
“I told you not to make any stupid decisions.”
“That’s subject to interpretation. Maybe getting married was the best decision of my life?”
“Oh, I’m sure.” She crossed her arms. “And what does Elle think?”