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I set down my bag and oblige.
He stares at me for several moments, rocking back and forth in his squeaky chair.
I clear my throat, hoping he’ll hurry up and say something, but all he does is rock.
“If you’re not about to say anything, can I—”
“Are you using the best brand of condoms?” he interrupts.
“What?”
“You heard me,” he says. “Are you covering your cock properly while you’re screwing these girls or what?”
I should’ve just stayed in my car…
“You do know what condoms are, don’t you son?” He narrows his eyes. “I gave you my sex talk when you were a freshman, didn’t I?”
“Unfortunately. With all due respect though, Coach, where the hell is this coming from?”
“I was like you back in my day.” He clasps his hands. “I mean, I wasn’t the top ranked high school quarterback in the nation or anything, but I was popular enough to make the sports news. Very popular. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“It does…”
“You know whatdoesn’tfeel good?” He stops rocking and leans forward. “A surprise baby by some gold digger who knows, just knows, you’re destined to do big things in college and will be huge in the NFL. I don’t want that to happen to you, so I want you to make sure you’re wrapping it up.”
“Thanks, Coach. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Not only do I want you to wrap it up,” he says, “But I want you to make sure you carry something around whenever you’re done and put it to use.”
He opens his drawer and pulls out a small stack of red packets. “These will fit in your wallet behind the condoms.”
“What are those?”
“Hot sauce packets,” he says. “Whenever you take off a condom, squeeze some of this into it so the girl can’t go behind your back and put your semen to use.”
What the fuck?
I stand to my feet. “I’m good, Coach.”
“No, trust me.” He pushes the packets closer. “The closer you get to announcing whatever college you’re attending in the spring, the closer the gold diggers are to sinking their claws into your future.”
“I’m going to leave now.”
“I smelled the scent of female desperation in the air once this school year started, once ESPNU started running those long promos on you.” He’s officially talking to himself, not me. “The stench is unmistakable.”
“Are you taking new meds, Coach?”
“I don’t want to be invited to your baby shower for at least ten years,” he says, staring into space. “I wish I could go back in time and have someone say that to me…”
I turn around and head to the door.
“Wait, Easton!”
I look over my shoulder. “Yes, Coach?”
He picks up a blue envelope and holds it out for me. “Happy birthday son. I never forget.”
“Thank you.” I take the envelope from him and leave his office, shutting the door behind me.
