Dirty Curve

There’s no fucking way he’d sit me, but he’s in the mood to wear his authoritative hat today, so I ask rather than plainly state the fact we’re both aware of.

“You’d sit me, Coach?”

He hesitates a second, then narrows his eyes. “Get the shit done, son, and get it in so you can be on that field.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

“I’m aware.”

“That only gives me tonight to do it, and tomorrow to turn ‘em in.”

“That’s right.” He nods. “Don’t worry. I’ve made it clear your professors are to grade everything immediately and make the necessary updates. All you gotta do is get the work in by noon.”

“You said professors.”

“I did.” He glares. “Says here not only are you struggling in anatomy, but you’re failing history and you bombed your English essay.”

“Don’t plan on becoming a teacher.”

“You plan on finishing the season on the field or the bench?” he counters. “You know, once you get below a certain point, my hands are tied.”

I run my tongue along the backs of my teeth.

Fuck!

All right, it’s good. I’m good. I have two days, that’s what he said.

I blow out a deep breath, nodding. “I’ll get it done, but maybe next time start with that, huh?” I chuckle.

“I like messing with you, it keeps your fire burning.” He sits back with a grin. “You got it all, son. Keep this last bit of school straight, your life will be set, and I’ll officially have a legend grown straight from my program.”

I nod and knock my knuckles on his desk.

What most people don’t know is Coach Reid saved my ass the same way I saved his. He was getting screwed left and right. While most of the sports here at Avix continued to boom, his baseball program was failing. They cut funding due to lack of progression and failed seasons, but every couple years, he would do the work himself, track down a solid stud on the field, and within a season, some big-time school would smell the success, come in and swoop the bastard away. Coach Reid was getting ready to lose his job, just like I was getting ready to lose my last chance.

My senior year of high school, my parents dropped a bomb; they decided they wouldn’t allow me to use the college savings they set up for me a decade earlier if I went as an athlete. They knew that was all I wanted, and my grades wouldn’t get me a scholarship, so that was how they intended to trap me into a life they wanted for me.

I started getting into pointless fights when I was always more of a defend the weaker kind of guy, got myself kicked off my high school team, ruining their chances of a winning season. Everything in my life had fallen apart. The schools that showed interest in me cut me from their prospects list, and to top it off, I was on the brink of expulsion, at risk of failing my senior year.

That’s when Coach Reid showed up.

He offered me a branch no one else was willing to give me, not even my parents, and I grabbed onto that bitch at the root.

He had my back when everyone in my life had turned theirs, my parents included, and he’s been here for me ever since, even when I didn’t deserve him to be.

It makes me sick to think about it, but I made mistakes here at Avix, too, some the same as back home. Instead of sending me on my way, he sat me down, letting me know he understands, reminding me nobody changes overnight, and to keep working.

No matter what it was, he was there to bail me out, literally on one occasion of drunken celebration.

The school paper really had a heyday with that one.

They always do when it comes to the negative parts of who I am.

Bottom line, I’d do anything for the man in front of me, just like he would for me.

“I won’t let you down, Coach.” I nod. “I got this for the both of us.”

“No doubt in my mind, son.” His smile is easy, but brief, as he brings us to the next step. “Suck it up and call the tutor. Get both these grades above seventy by Friday, and above eighty by Boston.”

“I can do that.”

“Yes, you can. Use the damn girl, that’s why she’s there. Take up every fucking minute she’s got if you have to. That’s what she’s paid for.”

“What if she doesn’t have the time?”

“You’re my top athlete, she’s the school’s top tutor.”

“What kind of qualifications does such a title entail?” I joke.

Coach chuckles. “She has a premier passing rate and is the most requested, smart-ass. The girls had a continuous waiting list a mile long. It took a lot to get her over here, but she’s exclusive to athletes now. Her job is making sure they get and stay where they need to be.”