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“How do I give it to them? Without getting caught?” I ask, breaking the silence.
Neither of them looks up from their phones. “That’s for you to figure out.” Landon quietly responds.
This entire situation is stressing me out and they aren’t helping. Both are acting so cold toward me. Similar to how it was before the holidays, I guess. Shaking my head of the thoughts I focus back on how the hell I am going to execute this. Each professor has their own office. If I just slide it under their door or wait until they are in there to pass it off. It should work. It has to work. Come on Banks, you can do this.
Their presence is intoxicating. Time passes quickly as I work on various other things, avoiding them. “Ok, you guys can go now.”
They both stand without saying a word and head out, leaving the door open. My heart is still racing, and it feels like it could explode out of my chest.
“Banks. Sorry, Ms. Lewis.” It’s Coach.
I swallow almost choking from the shock of him bursting in. This is all too much.
“Coach Taylor.” I smile because my brain won’t function telling me what else I should do.
“Any plans for Spring Break? I know you spent the holidays alone, which is a real shame. Would you like to hang out? I guess that is what I am wondering…” Oh my word, Coach is asking me out. The man is at least twice my age, not that there's anything wrong with that. I love a good age gap novel, but no. Not him. I am not at all attracted to him.
My eyes widened, “Oh, no, Coach. No, thank you. I’m not at all attracted to you like that. If that’s what you’re asking?” I know my face is making a face, but I cannot control it. I am shocked. He walks around my desk and looks, squinting his eyes at me.
“The fuck you say to me, Lewis?” I’m taken aback by his tone. He is speaking to me like I am one of his players, a complete one-eighty switch in his demeanor.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Crying won’t work on me, save that shit for someone else. I wasn’t asking you on a date. I felt bad for you and didn’t want you to be alone if you didn’t have to be.” Then, it happens so fast, my skin tingles then burns, a loud crack can be heard and I go into complete shock. My mind and body freeze.
The way he’s looked at me lately or the lingering touch in the locker room, which did not go unnoticed, would make me believe otherwise. He likes me, and now he is embarrassed that I rejected him.
If he only knew how I spent Christmas break. I was alone, but also very not alone, depending on the time.
I don’t respond, not wanting to escalate the situation or draw further attention to my office with the door being open. Since I am also shit at confrontation, I change the subject, trying to ignore the throbbing feeling on the side of my face. “I just met with the twins, they are on track for a successful mid-term. They should be ready to go after spring break with no issues.” My lips tremble with each word, but I will not let him win. I will not cry in front of him or show weakness by holding my face.
Coach Taylor rolls his eyes at me, making me feel further belittled. This is an encounter I did not expect with him today, or ever, if I am being honest.
He turns and walks away from me. The floodgates open and my tears flow freely down my face.
Before he walks out of my office, Coach turns back around to face me. “I’m sorry, Banks. I was out of line. Your reaction, the rejection, caught me off guard and I reacted how I would if you were one of the guys on the team.” Coach Taylor doesn’t wait for a reply before turning back around and leaving. The audacity.
I let a deep breath out. I’m still in shock that he slapped me. He actually did it, he put his hands on me. When I stand up, my knees tremble, my hands shake, and my heart is racing as fast as my mind is. I reach the door to close it, but Hudson barges in, looking like he could rain terror down on this whole place. His eyes look almost black and his fists are clenched.
“What was that about? Did he do this to you? Did he make you cry, Banks? Why is your cheek red? Tell me.” He grabs both of my shoulders, walking me backwards.
I sniffle, unable to hold it in now that attention has been brought to my current state. My lip quivers, “It’s ok, Hudson. It’s been a long day and I am just being sensitive.”
His face hardens and he lets go of me, briskly walking out of my office. I hear him yelling, “Landon!” Ah shit.
They both walk back in seconds later.
Landon examines me, head to toe. “What’s this?”
Shaking my head, I put my hands up. “It’s fine. He apologized and there is nothing to worry about. It’s been a long day and like I told Hudson, I am feeling over sensitive.”
Hudson shakes his head, “No. I don’t accept that. No one takes that tone with you. No one speaks to you like that. No one puts their fucking hands on you. Only we can. Only ever us.”
Coach walks back in, he must have heard the boys. “What are you two doing in here?” Hudson’s face is full of rage. He is seeing red. I know that look. It’s dangerous. His eyes are blackened and focused on his target, Coach Taylor.
“I heard how you spoke to her. Is that your handprint on her? Did you fucking mark her? It’s one thing to treat us like shit, but not her. Never. Fucking. HER!” Hudson is shouting.
He takes a step forward. Shit.
Landon interferes, stepping in front of his brother, and in the blink of an eye, his fist connects with Coach's jaw.
