ROMANCE: BAD BOY ROMANCE: M.V.B. - Most Valuable Baby (Sports Secret Baby Romance) (Contemporary Interracial Pregnancy Romance) (26 page)

“Alright, Scorpions!” Coach shouted, and everyone looked up to pay attention. “I know what ya’ll are expecting, a big talk from me! But you’re not gonna get it!”

Confused, Dean exchanged glances with some of the others.

“At least, not from me,” Coach said. “Our own Athletic Director would like to say a few words instead.”

Dean felt his whole body light up at that statement, and Khela Caldwell stepped out from behind a locker.

“First of all,” Khela said. “I know I’m in a boy’s locker room. If you don’t tell, I won’t.”

The Scorpions laughed, many of them still amazed that she was here, speaking to them right now.

“Now, on to the serious stuff,” she went on. “What I want to see out there today is 110%! And I know you’ve heard all of this before, so I’m going to cut the shit. It is not going to be easy, boys. It is going to be hard. You are going to sweat, be in pain, and push yourself to the limits of your body. You might want to quit halfway through. You might mess up the first play. It will not be easy. You are going to doubt yourself. You are going to wonder what you are doing on that field.

“Remember, we chose you to be there. You are our team. 110% is not easy, it is asking for everything and more. And that is what I want to see out there! I want to see you pushing yourself. I want to see everything that you have got! This is no longer practice, boys, you aren’t saving your best games for later. From start to finish, you give it that 110%, and I’ll give you 120% of my support, and whatever the outcome of the game is, we will be proud of you!”

The Scorpions were beginning to cheer. Dean loved every moment of this.

“Gentlemen,” Khela smiled. “The best athletes in the world give their 110% at every single game they play. It’s time to join their ranks.”

The Scorpions erupted into almost chaotic cheers. Hyped up and excited, they jumped off of their seats, grabbing what they needed. Dean smiled and cheered along with the rest of his team, and they began to run off into the field. But before they did, Dean stole one last glance at Khela, the formidable, amazing woman he was eager to spend his time on. She gave him a secret little smile, filling him with hope and happiness.

Whether they won or lost this game – though he knew they would win – he knew his night plans with Khela would serve as the perfect celebration or consolation, which ever it was.

And now, he had someone else to play for aside from himself and his team. He had Khela to impress, and boy, was he going to blow her away.

*****

THE END

Tackled by the Tight End

Brian was ready for the big game that night. It was all he could think about. As he brushed his teeth, packed a lunch, and made sure he had all of his books in his backpack, winning was the only thing on his mind. Iowa State University was his school, and the Falcons were his team. Ames, the small railroad town turned academic enclave where he lived and went to school, didn't have much else going for it. After the railroads had fallen out of use years ago, the university…and the money its students brought, became the lifeblood of the small town. A lifeblood that could be seen throbbing in the stands under the Friday night lights at every home football game.

Brian puffed out his chest a little when he got on the bus. Coach had been getting on everyone about posture in public. He said he didn't like the way the team walked around with their hands in their pockets, eyes on the ground, pants sagging. Coach had really come down on them all about the pants thing. He said the sagging, combined with their bad posture, made them look like losers. They weren't losers, though; in fact they were undoubtedly winners. They had gone undefeated last year, and they were set to do it again this year. Coach had said the rest of the school wasn't doing so well, with professors being dismissed due to budget cuts, and there was talk that the cuts might even affect the football team.

Brian had to have pride because the rest of the school needed it. The rest of the school wasn't tall like him, they didn't have a physique that looked as if it were chiselled from granite. Most of the people who went to ISU were overweight from eating quick meals of processed food. No one had time to work a job, go to school, and eat healthy. The sleep deprived look of everyone on the bus reminded Brian of how tired he was. A bone tiredness that seemed to soak through him, starting at his fingertips, moving through his arms, then all the way down to his toes — he was exhausted. Brian cracked his energy drink open and took a big gulp. There wasn't anything he could do but press on. The team needed him, Coach needed him, the school needed him…the pressure really was intense.

By the time Brian made it off the bus and into his first period class he'd forgotten about all of his early-morning ruminations. His first period wasn't his hardest, but it was one that really mattered. It was Spanish, and if he didn't get at least a B then his father was going to kill him. Brian's old man wasn't one to mince words, and he'd told Brian exactly how he felt when Brian had decided to join the ISU team.

“Boy, I catch your grades slipping and we're going to have a problem,” he said.

By the time Brian was done with the test the bell had just started to signal the end of class. He shuffled to the front of the room with this peers and handed in his test.

In the halls everyone started talking about how hard the test was and how they didn't think they were going to pass. Brian didn't think he was going to do well, but the class was weighted so that, as long as the homework was satisfactory, you could manage with weaker test scores.

As Brian walked the concrete path across ISU's beautiful campus to his next class he deftly moved out of the way of someone riding a unicycle.

“That's what I'm talking about,” the cyclist shouted. “We'll need those kind of moves tonight! Go Falcons!”

Brian nodded and then turned to sombrely trudge toward his next class. He'd forgotten about all that, and hadn't really wanted to remember. The people on unicycles were part of the ISU unicycle club, a club that encouraged their members to shout down from their perch atop the antiquated cycles at the rest of the student body. Brian thought it was to raise awareness that the group existed, but some people just found it annoying. As Brian neared his next class he saw Coach standing on the steps that led up and up to the entrance.

“No time for class today,” Coach said. “Don't worry, it's all legit. We have an emergency meeting in the locker room. Need to watch some film ASAP if you know what I mean.”

Brian nodded as Coach turned away to head up the stairs. A bunch of other football players were in his next period class, and he was sure that's where Coach was headed. As Brian turned toward the gym he nearly ran into Jasmine, the girl he'd been seeing for the last couple weeks.

“What is this?” Jasmine said playfully as she grabbed his football jersey and gave it a tug. “You get to skip out of class to watch film for a game where grown ass men through a little ball around?”

Brian answered with a peck on her lips.

“Isn't that something,” Jasmine said. “You don't want to say. Well, all right then. But secrets don't make friends!”

She gave him a firm slap on the ass as she walked by, giggling and sprinting up the stairs quickly enough that Brian would have to really sprint to retaliate. And right now he had other things to do.

By the time Brian got to the locker room more than half the team was already there. From the sounds of the chatter between players, it seemed like Coach had an understanding with the teachers. No one had been given a hard time, and everyone had been let out of class for the rest of the day. It was something that was unheard of, at least to them.

“You have to remember we're new, though,” Brian said. “Coach has been around forever, but we've only been here a few years. Maybe there have been emergencies like this before.”

A few of the linemen agreed with him, but that didn't make Brian feel like he was any more right. The linemen agreed with pretty much anything he said. There were a few advantages to being the quarterback.

“So here's the deal, boys,” Coach said as he walked into the locker room, pushing an old projector with big spools of film, an antiquated piece of equipment Brian was surprised still worked. Coach kept pushing the mini-fridge size machine on squeaky wheels to the middle of the room, and then turned it to face the white wall at the back of the locker room. It was an old routine, but the team was quiet. They had never been pulled from their class before, and they knew it meant something big was happening. As soon as Coach was done positioning the projector he turned to face the team, and said what they had all been waiting to hear.

“They're running trick plays.”

Coach let it linger in the air like some kind of stench, looking from man to man, as if he'd just told them that instead of playing a home game tonight they'd be taking Hamburger Hill.

“I'm going to play some clips, and you'll see what I'm talking about,” Coach continued. “This is the reason that I got the OK to pull you out of class. The school needs this win, and if there has to be a loss, then it sure isn't going to be to some Mickey Mouse, trick play bologna.”

Brian had never seen Coach worked up quite like this. It wasn't that he was mad, it was just that he looked so determined. Usually Coach just looked frumpy and kind of old, his body sagging, but still bearing some of the vestiges of his former athletic self. Coach wasn't one to make too much of football, either. He always reminded everyone it was just a game after practice, even if it was a game that seemed to bear the burden of being able to make the student body's population soar.

The clips were hard to watch. The team they were going to face that tonight was good. But they didn't hesitate to back another team into a corner and run a trick play. The one Coach played a couple times, that really made Brian's eyes widen, was when a trick play called a flea flicker was used to win a game that was already over, the score being as lopsided as it was. The team they were going to play, though, the Alligators, didn't hesitate to twist the blade instead of winning with grace. That really made Brian think about what kind of people he was up against, how they were going to try to win by any means necessary, even if it meant treating football as nothing more than a bar fight where it was acceptable to throw sucker punches.

“So there you have it, gentlemen,” Coach said. “I know it seems like maybe a small thing—I could have sent out a mass text. But at the same time, it isn't a small thing. This team is going to do whatever it takes to beat us tonight. And that includes playing dirty, using trick plays, and mind games. But you know what? We're still going to win, because we're going to do what we do best. And that's play straight up football better than they can ever imagine.”

The team cheered, and Brian smiled as he listened. He loved the way the Falcons came together to meet a challenge. There was nothing like overcoming something that at first seemed insurmountable; but in order to beat the Alligators the Falcons would really have to be at the top of their game.

The team slowly filed out of the locker room and Coach pulled Brian aside just before he walked out the door.

“I want you to know how important you're going to be for this win,” Coach said. “I know you're a leader, the team does as well. But after tonight there won't be a doubt in anyone's mind. Brian, you’re going to lead the team to greatness tonight. I know that this team aren't seeded very high but I also know that they've scored some major upsets. So tonight, I want you to just be you. Just lead the team to victory like you have every game since you took this position by the horns.”

Coach slapped Brian on the back and they both walked out of the locker room together. Then Coach told the team they didn't have class the rest of the day, and headed off toward his office. Some of the team followed him—especially the defensive positions—but there were those who chose to go home instead, or to class even though they didn't have to.

Brian wasn't sure what he wanted to do. Part of him wanted to have a big meeting with the offense, but then there was part of him that didn't want to blow it all out of proportion. So what if the team they were going to play might run a couple of trick plays. It would take a lot more than that to win the game. The teams they'd watched lose had slipped up early on in the game, or allowed themselves to be played by the Alligators’ offensive coordinator. Brian knew that Coach was going to be on top of things, and he also knew that the rest of the offense was going to be on top of their own positions, so it seemed like needlessly added stress to have an additional meeting.

Brian's phone buzzed. It was Jasmine texting him.

“Meet me in the middle of campus!”

Brian enjoyed the nice day as he walked to the middle of campus. The sky had a bright, orange sun hung off center, and wispy clouds all lined up to form strange cloud formations far up in the sky, taking on a rusty color, as if scorched by the sun. The sky was beyond blue, something opine, closer to the faint hint of blueish green translucence in glass than the dark blue of a child's coloring book. Brian was originally from Chicago, and he loved how the Midwest expressed itself through nature so flawlessly, so effortlessly that it was sublime in a subtle way. It made Brian want to sign up for the art class that was only open to seniors. And maybe he would, after the football season was over.