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As I approached the door, I heard him yelling. Trey walked out a moment later, his head bent. He shook it as he passed.
“He wants to see you too.”
“What about?” I asked.
“Get in here, Austin!”
Fucking frat boys.
EIGHT
Austin
I walked into the office. Coach glanced up at me with the same look of disgust he usually wore, even when we won games. He didn’t say anything as I sat down at a hard, wooden seat in front of his desk.
“You going to be ready for this next game?”
“Yes, Coach.”
No frat-boys?
“Good. I hear your grades are up, and I’ve heard you’re not partying hard. Who’s this new girl you’ve been hanging out with?”
I did my best to mask my emotions.
“Girl, Coach?”
“Come on, you know what the hell I’m talking about. Trey gave you up to get out of trouble.”
That fucker…
“It’s not serious, Coach,” I lied.
He read me like a play-book.
“Tell me the truth. She going to distract you?”
“No, Coach. It’s under control. Football first. Always.”
“Damn straight,” he said then glanced down at a printed spreadsheet. “Your stats are looking solid, but I want you to try to push yourself a bit farther this next game. Can you do that, son?”
“Yes, Coach.”
“Why the hell do all of you guys say my name every time you answer?”
I cracked a smile.
“I’m not sure, Coach.”
He waved a hand through the air in front of him.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m too damn old, but I want one more big win.”
“We’re going to deliver it this year, Coach.”
“Well, make sure you’re not spending too much time chasing tail.”
“Yes, Coach.”
