Possessive Coach

A good, hard hit will do Erik some good.

It won’t solve this problem though. He’s going to push until he gets what he wants. I know it, just can’t see any other way around it. I need to keep moving forward though, no matter what.

In the meantime, I’d better talk to Chloe and see where she’s at.10ChloeI hurry across a grassy expanse across from the science building and cut down onto the brick sidewalk. It’s around nine at night, and I only spot a couple other students, walking with their heads down and their backpacks pulled tight. The CU campus is safe at night, but it’s still a little spooky to be the only one around, especially considering what happened with Erik.

I skirt around the side of the bland science building and spot a bench underneath a large shade tree. It sits right at the intersection of two paths, and overlooks another large grassy expanse. During the day, students sit out there on blankets, throw frisbees, play music, that sort of thing. But tonight, it’s empty and spooky as I head for the bench.

I sit down but I can’t seem to relax. My body feels tense and I bite my lip as my leg jostles. The path remains empty, the red and brown bricks leading toward the parking lot to my right and the humanities buildings off to my left. I’m tempted to get up and head back home, but David told me to meet him here, and so I’m going to meet him.

Fortunately, I don’t have to wait long. I spot him coming from the parking lot two minutes later. He’s wearing dark jeans, slim but not tight, complementing his muscular frame. His tight short-sleeve button-down looks incredible and I feel a strange surge of emotion as he slows and tilts his head, a little smile on his lips. There’s a five o’clock shadow on his cheeks and he looks so rugged, so handsome.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey. Glad you came.”

“Sure.” I smile a little. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad.” He steps toward me. “Come on. Let’s walk.” He offers me his hand.

I take it and stand. He drops my hand and we walk together toward the humanities buildings. The wind whistles through the bushes, just a slight breeze coming off the ocean. I feel like I can hear the waves, but really I can only hear the buzzing of the fluorescent lights that keep the campus bright even in the middle of the night.

“How are you holding up?” he asks. “I could tell you were shaken earlier.”

“Better now,” I say. “Still a little pissed.”

“I’m pissed too. But I know that doesn’t help much.”

“It does.” I lean my shoulder against his. “So what’s up, why did you want to meet me here?”

“I wanted to talk to you in person.” He leads me around toward the science building. There’s a small path, just a few cobblestones, that leads into an outcropping of bushes next to the building. He takes me down that path, reaching back for my hand. I slip my palm against his, and he leads me through the bushes and into a small clearing.

It’s like a tiny paradise. There’s a bench next to a small fountain. The fountain’s concrete, stained from the water in a few places. It bubbles quietly, but instead of winged babies firing lethal weapons, it’s a compass spouting water up along its face, the water dripping down its sides and back into the pool.

“What is this?” I ask.

“Science department got some big donation my first year and they built this with it. But then some asshole put those bushes in and it basically got forgotten about.”

“It’s really nice.” I walk over and sit on the edge of the fountain. He sits next to me.

“I talked to Hardy,” he says.

I frown a little and stare down at my feet. I kick my toes through the grass and curl my fingers into the rough concrete of the fountain. I don’t say anything, even though I want to. I know this isn’t going to be a good conversation. If Hardy was going to do something worthwhile, I think he would’ve opened with that instead of bringing me here in person.

“I want to say there’s good news,” he goes on, voice soft. “But this is how things go. Erik’s worth millions to this school, and you’re just some… some random girl.”

I look at him and his face is twisted in rage. He stands up suddenly and paces away. I stare at the pure animal rage he’s exuding, his body tense.

“It’s fucked up,” he says. “That we’d let some asshole kid harass a decent, kind girl just because he brings in football money. It’s fucked up and wrong.”

“He’s really not going to do anything at all?” I ask. “Not even talk to Erik?”