The Playbook

“My what?” I ask, not sure I heard right. Since when does Murray do matchmaking?

“Right; you don’t know yet,” he says, as if he forgot. “Your punishment for losing the bet? I get to send you on five dates. Trust me when I say I’m putting lots of effort in to find you the perfect woman.”

I bet you are. I sigh and shrug my shoulders. “That’s the best you could come up with? Sending me out on a few harmless dates?”

Murray stands up and gestures for me to sit down in front of the laptop. Rolling my eyes, I comply and sit down.

“Uniquewomen.com—I bet that’s not as fun as it sounds,” I mumble to myself. Murray and Dean stand behind me, leaning in to see the screen. I click on the first profile. A woman named Marsha—though the term woman I’m not sure is accurate. Russian hammer thrower would give a better description. I narrow my eyes to study her, pretty sure she’s sporting a beard.

“Don’t worry, Marsha didn’t make the cut. We’ve found some much better ladies for you to wine and dine,” Dean assures me. I glare at him. What happened to him being on my side?

“Oh come on, Jake, its only five dates, and Dean and I have spent a lot of time making sure we have picked you the five best girls on this dating site.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they are real corkers, Murray, but I’m not doing it,” I retort, my voice laced with anger.

“A bet’s a bet, Jake,” Murray reiterates. He straightens up as I push the chair back and turn to face them. “You don’t want to be known as a sore loser, do you?”

“It was never a bet that I was going to win,” I growl, not taking my eyes off him. “That doesn’t make me a sore loser; it makes you a cheat.”

“Well, in life you have to take gambles, nothing is guaranteed,” Dean smirks. “But if you’re too much of a pussy to go on a few measly dates—”

“Fine whatever—” I cut in. I’m so done with this fucking club. I may as well just suck it up and get it over with. I stomp in the direction of the exit, wishing the year was over already. At least then I’d get a few months off to drink. As I near the door, I raise my middle finger behind me.

“Bring it on fuckers,” I shout.

The next few training sessions come and go without much drama, and it feels like I’m finally settling in. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not exactly the fucking Brady bunch, but I guess a toleration has formed. I’m also beginning to think they’ve given up on their stupid bet. Until today.

As soon as I walk onto the field, I hear the snickering. Something tells me today’s not going to be a good day.

“Jake, how do you feel about Rhonda?” Dean asks, barely containing his laughter.

“If I knew who she was, I would be able to tell you,” I say, my voice flat.

“She’s your number one, Jakey.” Murray grins, rubbing his jaw. “Remember, treat her mean to keep her keen.”

“Come on guys, hustle. Now is not the time for matchmaking. All of you wankers give me twenty laps now!” the coach barks at us from the sidelines. Murray and I glare at each other for a few seconds until he breaks the silence.

“Too bad. I guess I’ll have to let you know all the details later. I know the excitement must be killing you.” He pats me on the back and jogs off to start his laps.

“Asshole,” I mumble to myself. I bend over to tie my laces before I run off to join the others.

After training, I quickly shower. Wearing only a towel wrapped around my waist, I head to my locker. I’m almost there when a laptop is thrust in my face. A picture on the laptop displays a large, frumpy looking girl, complete with dark frizzy hair and glasses. She smiles into the camera as she’s surrounded by a small army of cats.

“Jake, meet Rhonda. Isn't she lovely?” Murray asks smugly. I roll my eyes and continue getting dressed.

“Yeah, she looks like a real catch. I hope you’re very happy with her, Murray.” I know where this is heading, but I refuse to make a big deal of it. The more I act up, the more he wins.

“Oh no, Jakey boy. This is who you’re meeting tonight—at eight pm. She will have a red rose with her. It’s a bit cliché, I know, but I thought you would like the added touch.”

&n

bsp; “Well, unlucky, because I already have plans tonight,” I respond. Plans to get wasted with Asher and pick up some easy pussy to take home with me for a midnight snack.

“You’re right. You do have plans. With Rhonda. If you ever want to play another game this year, that is.” His lips spread into a smirk as he realizes he has me. So long as he’s my captain, I’m fighting a losing a battle.

“Fine,” I say, gritting my teeth. “Shall I say hello to her from you? I assume you’re related. She kind of looks like you.”

“No, and no need. I’ll be able to tell her myself as I heckle you from the bar,” he says, closing the already small gap between us.