Tag: coach

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Here’s an excerpt from chapter 2, Dane’s perspective.

“Lucia!” Coach Holter barked.

Ignoring him, she took a step toward me. Her long braid whipped behind her shoulder. “I have my reasons for being here, and it’s not about the election.”

“What reasons?”

“C’mon,” said the agent with blond curly hair as she put her arm around Lucia’s shoulders. Her voice lowered. “Your coach is having a cow.”

“Oh, no.” Lucia closed her eyes, turned, and made a beeline for the classroom. At the door, Coach Holter grabbed her shoulder and jabbed his finger toward her chest. I couldn’t hear his words, but he was pissed. Lucia’s head lowered as she nodded, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Her thick, black hair shone. She wore modest dresses on the campaign trail, but her volleyball practice uniform — a form-fitting gray T-shirt and black Spandex shorts — was far superior. The toned muscles of her arms and long-ass legs left no doubt she was a scholarship athlete. Whether or not she could really play — to earn that scholarship — was yet to be seen. She didn’t have much of a chest, but the luscious curve of her butt more than compensated. Talk about junk in the trunk. Damn. Why’d all of that have to belong to her?

Coach Holter’s lecture appeared to gain momentum and his voice rose loud enough for me to hear. “Do you think you deserve special treatment!?”

Lucia shook her head as she continued staring at her shoes. “Look at me when I talk to you!”

When her head snapped up, I could see tears in her eyes. As she stared wide-eyed at her coach, her clenched fists shook at her side. La chica looked on the verge of meltdown, and I didn’t envy her. I’d been on the receiving end of my club coach’s ass-chewing too many times to count. Thank God my college coach, Phil, was as chill as they came.

China’s stern face filled my line of vision. “Time to go, Mr. Monroe.” Her short brown hair, gelled into place, didn’t move an inch as she shook her head. “I know it must be a pleasure for you to watch Ms. Ramirez get reamed by her coach — ”

“Not really.” Sure, it was kind of fun to see Miss-Conservative- Know-it-All get her comeuppance, but I wasn’t made of stone.

“But if we don’t leave now, you’ll be late for practice.”

By the time I was able to step around China to check out the doorway again, Lucia and Holter had disappeared into the classroom.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

“This way.” Brad pointed to the opposite end of the hallway. “If ya want to avoid the media.”