Chapter 1: Wednesday-3
715 Words
It was an unseasonably warm September afternoon for Santa Monica and Brian enjoyed the camaraderie of being amongst his teammates as they warmed up for gym period. Some of his teammates had filled out very nicely over the summer and he loved eyeing all the beefy testosterone on the field. He kept his eye out for when their coach would finally show up on the field. An unfamiliar feeling of self-doubt was vying for dominance, threatening to rise up like a bad case of indigestion, but he squashed it down. His concern over coach’s delay in making the QB position announcement was annoying to him. He was also trying not to sweat it too much, though. He just didn’t like the feeling of being ignored, as it wasn’t something that ever happened to him. Ever.
He sighed and did another lap around the field, keeping slightly behind on purpose to treat himself to a view of the burly football player ass swaying in front of him. He needed this position. It was about much more than his ego. He had a lot riding on it. It made him more nervous than he would admit that the coach hadn’t approached him yet. If he didn’t get the top position in his team, his dreams of going to college on a full scholarship would take a serious hit. He needed to get into Columbia’s biology program so he could be close to Matt. His grades would help, but they wouldn’t be enough, like Matt’s would.
No.
He shook his head to get rid of the drops of sweat burning his eyes as much as reaffirming his commitment to his plan. There wasn’t a plan B. It was QB and scholarship and college and that was that. And a lot of shameless screwing in between. The new guy who’d knocked into him jogged onto the field. An air of smugness surrounded him that already rubbed Brian the wrong way. The fact that he looked like he stepped off a GQ f*****g billboard didn’t help anything either. At the same time, Coach appeared from nowhere—had they been cavorting?
What. The. f**k!
He finished his lap and got ready for the start of practice. Coach had them start off with a few drills to gauge their fitness levels after the summer. Brian was at the top of his game—it is an amateur move to let yourself slide in the off season. He had kept fit with regular volleyball games and gym sessions and avoided days on end sprawled on his bed fighting the superior intelligence of Gran Turismo 3—although he did indulge the demon at times. Who didn’t?
Coach walked up to Oliver. They spoke with lots of backslapping and laughter. The new guy seemed to bask in the attention, throwing furtive, yet obvious, looks at Brian. He was fast on his feet and had a few good moves, but didn’t they all?
The heat was making Brian cranky and much as he hated to admit it, the nervous uncertainty was throwing off his game. He made a couple of amateur mistakes that got him some weird stares from his teammates, but practice was almost over anyway. Then this whole washed up day could just come to an end.
Then it happened.
The new guy jogged up beside Brian, as they completed their final downturn lap around the field. Brian’s feet tangled with new guy’s foot and he was already down the field when Brian’s face planted into the dirt. The bastard had done it in such a way that it was only obvious to them. Barely a second passed before Brian was up off the ground and charging Oliver to the ground. Brian’s shoulder hit his mid-section hard and the guy even looked surprised by the collision.
“Dammit, Walker! Get a grip.” Coach said.
Brian tried to get a good punch in but the guy was agile and ready for him. He was good at offense, too, it seemed. Bastard.
Someone grabbed Brian by his shirt’s collar and pulled him up and off the guy.
“What the hell!” The coach bellowed in his face. “I swear to Mary and all the saints, you and your damn temper, Walker. The second you have a bit of competition, you lose it.”
“Coach…”
“Walk it off. I don’t want to hear it. You’re done for today.”
Brian made his way off the field, noticing how everyone was making a fuss about the guy on the ground.
- Writer
