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I smirk at my own reflection and get back to concentrating on my lift, taking a deep breath. I exhale as I thrust upwards, careful not to lock my elbows.
I lower it down again—almost done, just six more—when I see coach walking by. I quickly look away. Maybe if I act like I don’t see him, he’ll keep going.
But no such luck; he catches a glimpse of me and nods, walking over. I continue to pretend that I don’t see him and instead look straight up at my grip on the bar and the spinning blades of the gym’s ceiling fan.
“Brady!”
I can hear him call out, but I’ve got headphones in so I keep staring straight up, avoiding him.
“Brady!”
He’s more insistent this time and walks right over, yanking one of my ear.
“Coach, what the fuck?”
He looms over me with his arms crossed over his chest, frowning.
“When I’m talking to you, you answer. Hear me?”
I growl and lift the bar up to the barbell rack, huffing as I slide forward and sit up, glaring at him. I point exaggeratedly to my headphones, and I scoff, rolling my eyes.
“Headphones! I didn’t hear you. And you know,” I snap in between panting and catching my breath, “for a football coach, I think you need to respect your players’ workouts more, not interrupt them and whine when they don’t answer you right away.”
“I saw you ignoring me, Brady. Don’t start with that shit.”
“Uh huh. Anyway, what is it?”
His eyes narrow at me, and he tilts his head, nodding at my water bottle.
“What’s in the bottle?”
I look at my bottle, then back at him. I give him a bewildered expression.
What is this? A damned interrogation?
“Uhhh, water?”
“Last time I checked, water wasn’t orange.”
I glanced back at the bottle again and nodded, then back to coach with a defiant smirk.
“Yeah, Izzie gave me some flavored vitamin mixture to add to my water. Is that a problem?”
He shakes his head and looks at me skeptically, glancing around the gym to make sure no one else is watching or listening.
“You two seem mighty friendly all of a sudden.”
“Oh, yeah,” I scoff, taking a drink. “We’re best pals now, don’t you know?”
“Brady, don’t sass me. Do I need to remind you that she’s an employee and is off limits?”
Seriously, what an ass. If I wasn’t in such hot water, I’d clock him right in the jaw for talking to me like that. Who does he think he is?
He’s the asshole who essentially gets to decide if I get to keep playing football or not, that’s who. And he knows it, the son of a bitch.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”
I stand from the bench and throw a sarcastic smile in his direction before I grab my towel, wiping my face as I walk towards the cardio section.
