Fake Marriage Box Set
Chapter One
Luke
“Come on, guys,” I said angrily. “You’ve got to get your head out of your ass. What kind of play was that? Just because we’re in practice doesn’t mean that you can just screw around like it doesn’t matter. What if it had been a real game? You would have lost: that’s what. You would have lost and embarrassed the ever-loving shit out of me and this whole God-damned school. Start running laps, and I’ll let you know when you’ve had enough. And I better not see one damn person walking because I can stay here all night!”
I shook my head and watched angrily as the players headed off in full game dress, starting their laps as instructed. I slammed my playbook down on the bench and let out a deep breath. I had to get these assholes to start using their brains instead of just staring at all the girls.
“You know, one of the most sure-fire ways to end your career is by getting pissed every time these numbnuts fuck up a play,” Andy, my best friend and assistant coach, said, laughing. “You are going to give yourself a heart attack at thirty-one.”
“Yeah, well, maybe if they got their heads out of their asses, or out of the cheerleader’s asses I should say, they might actually run a play right for a change,” I said, walking over and sitting down on the bench.
“Cut them some slack, they had a great season last year,” Andy said, sitting down next to me.
“Head to the showers when you cross the line,” I yelled out to the players, tired of seeing their faces. “Tomorrow I better see a hell of a lot more effort put into these plays.”
I shook my head watching my quarterback jog off the field and toward the showers, his eyes fixed on the ground, not wanting to draw my attention. It was so damn frustrating when I couldn’t seem to get them to follow simple plays.
“They need to remember that was last year,” I said, turning to Andy. “This is a whole new year.”
“Come on, they’ve been pretty hard on themselves for how they’ve been playing this year,” Andy replied, always trying to stick up for the kids.
“They’ve been playing like shit all year long,” I said with irritation. “They can miss one scrimmage by leaving practice early; that isn’t going to change how they’ve played so far. I’m tired of screaming at them. I know they want my nice side back, but none of them will pick themselves up and just do it. The seniors are the worst, which baffles me since they are the ones looking to be picked up by the scouts.”
“Yeah, well, you can’t hold their hands, Luke,” Andy said. “They aren’t your kids; they are your team. You can give them all the tools in the world, but if they refuse to use them, there is only so much you can do.”
“I guess,” I grumbled.
“So, what are your plans for this evening?”
Andy had been my best friend since I started at Kansas State, and he had been there through my divorce and during the clean-up. He was a devout family man and didn’t really approve of my single-guy lifestyle, but he was still a good friend. I looked at him wondering where the question was going.
“I was just going to invite you over for dinner,” he said, patting me on the back. “The wife is making lasagna, and I know it’s one of your favorites. Besides, it’ll give you a chance to relax and get rid of some of this stress; God knows you’ve had enough of it over the last couple of years.”
“You’re definitely right about the stress,” I laughed. “I appreciate the offer, really, but I have plans already. You know how it is: gotta keep moving cause if I slow down, I’ll come to a halt.”
“Have you ever thought that coming to a halt might be a good thing every once in a while?”
“I don’t know about that,” I chuckled.
“So, what are your big plans? Meeting the president? Saving a third world country?”
“Hardly,” I laughed. “No, I actually have a date tonight. I’ve got to run a few errands, then go get cleaned up so I’m not late.”