Coach’s Cutie Ch. 08

Coach’s Cutie – Chapter 8: Propositioning Mad Dog

Poor Maddie. She must feel terrible. And the worst part is, none of this is her fault.

Me (gathering the rest of her clothes as she finishes putting her bra and underwear back on): “Here you go… Are you okay?”

Maddie (still looking so apologetic): “I am so, so sorry for saying that. I wasn’t thinking.”

Me (abruptly): “No. Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. If Greg was in his right mind, he would’ve known right away that you were joking. It’s not your fault.”

Me (putting my hand on Maddie’s shoulder): “But here, why don’t you finish getting dressed. I’m gonna go talk to Coach, and then I’ll be right back out.”

Maddie (softly): “Okay.”

Fuck. I still can’t believe Greg reacted like he did. Sure, it’s fine to have been a little alarmed when Maddie mentioned how she was going to tell all her friends about this, but it was so obviously a joke!

We could’ve just calmly clarified that, but instead my boyfriend had to go storming off in one giant, huffy panic. And now as a result, he’s probably traumatized this sweet, little 18-year-old girl for life.

I head on into my bedroom to asses the situation. As I open the door, I see Greg sitting here on the bed, so I walk in and mostly close the door behind me.

Me (approaching Greg who has his head down): “Hey, you really sh…”

Greg (interrupting): “You need to fix this.”

Me: (trying to be reassuring): “Yeah, it’s fine. Maddie already said th…”

Greg (again, not letting me finish): “This is all your fault. I wasn’t the one who wanted to do this in the first place.”

Me (hitting my limit on taking this shit from him): “Woah, woah, woah… Let’s get one thing straight here. Yeah, I was excited to see this happen. Just as excited as you were. But I didn’t make you do anything.”

Me (scream whispering, because I’m super pissed, but also worried about Maddie hearing us): “I certainly didn’t make you eat that girl’s pussy, despite the fact that she’s a goddamn student at your school, let alone a player on your fucking basketball team!”

Me (after Greg doesn’t say anything in response): “Is that clear?”

Greg (somberly): “Yeah, I know.”

Me (feeling calmer after getting that off my chest): “Okay. Good. Now I’m going to go out there and walk Maddie out to her car, but I will make sure. Once again. That she understands how important it is that she doesn’t say a word about this.”

Greg (somewhat pathetically): “Thanks.”

Greg (as I turn to leave the bedroom): “She probably should find another way home other than driving though… since she had that wine you gave her.”

The fuck?! Even that sounds accusatory, like it’s my fault I was the one who gave her the wine?! Is he being serious here??

And of all the things to be worried about right now, that’s what he’s fucking concerned about?!? Maddie had two modest glasses of wine over the course of like two-and-a-half hours! There’s no way she’s too drunk to drive. And yeah, I get it Greg. You really don’t like drunk drivers because they killed your dead fucking wife, but have some goddamn perspective here.

Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with him? Anyway, this isn’t worth fighting back on right now, but fuck him.

Me (dismissively to Greg as I walk out): “Yeah, I’ll make sure she’s okay to drive.”

As I renter my living room, I see Maddie is all dressed and just standing there.

Me (compassionately): “Hey. How’re you doing??”

Maddie (sounding a little better): “I’m okay. How’s Coach Greg?”

Me (lying): “He’s good.”

Me (trying to be real but also put a positive spin on things): “He’s partly on cloud nine, and partly a little worried that he put his career at risk just because he wanted this so badly.”

Maddie (reactively): “Oh, I would never tell anyone.”

Maddie (seemingly processing the second part of what I said): “Wait, wanting this? Meaning… wanting me?”

I nod.

Me (putting my arm around Maddie’s waist): “Here, let’s walk out to your car.”

We head out of my apartment and down the flight of stairs in my building.

Me (as we’re descending): “Yeah, I know it sounds silly to use this word in terms of an adult, but I’m just now realizing how big of a crush your coach has on you… and has had on you for quite awhile it seems.”

Maddie (looking genuinely shocked): “Really?”

Me (twisting the facts for sure): “Yeah, I first found this all out when I mentioned to him I was fostering your old dog. But holy cow. He really does think the world of you in every possible way.”

Maddie: “Oh my gosh. I had no idea. Now I feel even worse I made that joke then about the other girls on the team. I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

Me (as we’re now approaching Maddie’s parked car): “I know you won’t. It goes without saying, but obviously if anyone ever found out, not only would Greg certainly be fired, but he probably would struggle to ever find another teaching job again.”

Maddie (looking Konya travesti so genuinely concerned): “Oh my god. I would never. I promise.”

Me: “I know. I know you don’t want that. Here’s the deal though. You just need to follow one simple rule. Well… two rules actually. The first and most obvious, is that you can’t tell anyone about this. You can’t talk about it. Well… you obviously can talk to me about it, though. So if you ever need to, you can always just give me a call.”

Me (stressing this part): “But the second rule, and this is the important one. You can’t ever put anything about this in writing. Ever. Not even to me. So that includes any sort of text messages, again even to me, so if you do want to discuss what happened, just give me a call instead. Does that make sense?”

Maddie (nodding): “Yeah. That makes sense.”

Me: “But also, I don’t know if kids these days have diaries anymore, but if you did, you can’t even write about what happened in something like that. It’s too risky that someone could eventually find it. Very simply, you can’t write anything about this, either in text, or on your phone, or on paper. Ever.”

Maddie (seeming like she really is grasping the gravity of this): “Got it. Understood.”

Me (feeling relieved): “Okay, great. And Maddie, I really am sorry things ended so abruptly up there, but I hope it was as fun for you as it was for Coach and me.”

Maddie (looking so genuinely doubtful): “Do you really think Coach was happy about what happened tonight?”

Me (smiling): “Oh my god. I have never, ever seen him happier or smiling more, than when he was going down on you. He was literally in heaven doing that.”

Maddie (blushing): “Well, if he asks, you can tell him the feeling was mutual.”

Well that just makes me feel so good.

Me: “Okay, well… drive home safely and we’ll definitely talk more about this tomorrow.”

Maddie (as she’s opening her car door): “Sounds good. Yeah, we’ll talk…”

Maddie (breaking out into a little grin): “…but make sure you don’t text me about it.”

God, this girl really is awesome.

Me (smiling): “Exactly… Okay, have a great night, Maddie.”

And with that, our adorable, teenaged, partner-in-crime closes her door and drives off. And not to pat myself on the back too much, but I really think I did a bang up job turning her spirits around just now. And as a result, I’m confident Greg’s little freakout should be fully in the rearview mirror. No thanks to him, of course.

Speaking of which, I guess it’s time to go check in on my overly dramatic boyfriend upstairs, probably still sulking in my bedroom.

I head back up to my apartment, and when I get inside, I see Greg is just coming out into the living room.

Greg (looking concerned): “How is she??”

Me (feeling confident): “She’s good. I think she definitely grasps how critical it is for her to be discreet about this, but she was also…”

Me (smirking): “…also pretty giddy about the fact that she just got her hot little pussy eaten out by her dreamy basketball coach.”

Me (clarifying): “To be fair, she didn’t use those exact words to describe her vagina, but you get the idea.”

Greg (nodding): “Okay. Good. Thanks for handling that.”

Wow. That seems like the bare minimum amount of appreciation for what I just did. But okay.

Greg (continuing): “And you were able to get her a ride home in an Uber or something?”

Me (confused at first, then annoyed): “What? No. She was totally fine to drive, so she just drove herself home.”

Greg (now seeming like the one who’s annoyed): “Becca! She could get a DUI if she gets pulled over!”

Oh my fucking god. We’re really doing this?!? How about you just say fucking thanks for a change! What the fuck.

Me (really trying my best to hold it together): “What are you talking about?!? She had two small glasses of wine. She wasn’t even remotely drunk.”

Greg (yelling back): “She’s under 21, Becca! If she has any trace of alcohol in her system at all, she can get a DUI. It’s a different set of rules than for someone who’s over 21.”

Me (yeah, I’ve hit my breaking point): “Who the fuck cares?!? Isn’t the whole point that you just want her and everyone else on the road to be safe?? Well, they’ll be safe, because she’s totally fucking fine to drive! And even if it’s a one-in-a-million run of bad luck and somehow she gets a DUI on a technicality, that doesn’t mean anyone was being unsafe!!”

Greg (dismissively): “Sometimes you’re just only thinking about yourself.”

Oh fuck him.

Me (livid): “Well if anything made her questionable to drive, I guarantee it was you and your little fucking temper tantrum over a single, stupid joke!! You reacted like a goddamn child! You know how shitty you made her feel by freaking out like that?!?”

Greg (looking genuinely concerned): “I thought you said she was okay?”

Me: “Yeah, she was. But only after I smoothed everything over and covered for your Konya travestileri ridiculous behavior!”

Greg (processing): “Oh. Yeah, I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

Thank you. Well at least he realizes that! But still, doesn’t he think maybe a thank you is in order here??

Greg: “I think I’m going to head home.”

Apparently not.

Me: “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

Greg quietly heads out, as I somewhat symbolically hold the door for him as he departs. We don’t say goodbye, and we don’t even make eye contact. I honestly have no idea what’s going through his mind right now, and there’s a little part of me that just doesn’t care. At least not right now, but we’ll figure it all out tomorrow. All I know is I’m exhausted and ready for bed.

I get a good night’s sleep, and I wake up in a much better mood. I decide to break the ice with Maddie so to speak, so I send her an innocent enough text.

My text to Maddie: “good luck on your chemistry test today!”

I get an immediately response: “thx! but it’s physics :)”

Ah shit. She’s right. Sometimes I’m not so good on the details.

Me: “ha sorry. give me a call later and let me know how it goes”

I figure it should be pretty obvious that as much as I do care about how she does on this test, I’ll be more curious to chat this afternoon for other reasons.

Maddie’s response: “will do”

I know both Greg and Maddie have their basketball practice after school, so I’m not surprised when 5pm rolls around and I still haven’t heard from Madison. I also haven’t heard anything from my boyfriend all day either, which after our little mini fight last night, isn’t too surprising. Part of that is my own stubbornness, where I don’t want to be the first one to reach out, as if that would somehow be admitting that I was the one at fault. And yes, I’m fully aware of how stupid that is.

But then at 5:08 pm, I get a text from Greg, and all it says is ‘call me’.

What does that mean?? I have a feeling their practice must’ve just ended. Which means he and Maddie almost certainly were just interacting with one another. Which means, well, I don’t know what the fuck ‘call me’ could mean, but honestly it doesn’t sound good.

Shit.

Well, there’s only one way to find out. I take out my phone and give him a ring.

Greg (answering almost immediately): “Hey. How’re you doing?”

Me: “I’m good. How’re you doing?”

Greg (sounding surprisingly upbeat): “I’m good… good… Hey, I just have to say, I am really sorry about last night. Basically about everything that happened after… you know… the thing that happened.”

Well this is certainly an unexpected turn of events!

Me: “That’s okay, Hun. I appreciate you saying that, though. Are you doing okay now?”

Greg: “Yeah, I am. Feeling much better about everything…”

Me (now I’m intrigued): “Okay, and how was practice? Was it weird? Fine? Good?”

Greg (now sounding almost excited): “It was good. Really good. But not like anything happened. It was all totally appropriate in a totally normal, this was just a normal practice like any other practice we’ve ever had kind of way.”

Me (chuckling): “That’s good I guess. You sound very upbeat though. What happened that put you in such a good mood?”

Greg (as I hear him kind of take cover and lower his voice as I assume he’s out in public somewhere): “Yeah, actually I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Interesting.

Me: “Go on…”

Greg: “I decided…”

Greg (after a decently long pause, in an extreme whisper): “I decided I want to have sex with her.”

Ha. Bi-polar much? Holy shit, this guy just goes from one extreme to the other! I’m not complaining, but seriously, where did this come from?

Me: “Oh you do, do you? What brought this on?”

Greg (a little louder now): “Yeah, just from thinking about it late last night, and then today, and then at practice just now. I just wanna do it.”

Me (subconsciously nodding while I’m speaking on the phone): “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Greg (continuing): “Yeah, you know I figure. At this point, what difference does it make?!? If you rob a bank, and you’re standing there in the vault, does it really matter whether you take some of the money or all of the money? Either way, either you get away with it, or you get caught.”

Wow. My boyfriend the logical consequences driven criminal mastermind right here, even pulling out a bank robbing metaphor.

Me: “Sure, yeah I get what you’re saying. You might as well get your money’s worth, right? So do you want to come over and we can discuss this a little more?”

Greg (very apologetically): “Oh I wish I could. I am swamped though, as I have a ton of work to get done tonight for this week ahead. Then we have a game tomorrow night, so I really shouldn’t.”

Me: “Yeah that’s fine, no worries. I’m glad you’re feeling better about everything. And I really appreciate the apology.”

Greg: “Of course, yeah. So, anyway… Travesti konya so do you think you could maybe reach out to you-know-who and just talk to her? Try and feel out if she’d be up for the three of us getting together again sometime soon, to you know…”

Me (chuckling): “Sure, I can talk to her for you. I’ll feel things out and report back.”

Greg (very appreciative): “Thanks so much Sweetheart, you really are the best at this. I don’t know how you pulled this whole thing off. You’re like a magician.”

There he goes again, putting this all on me. But at least he’s being complementary right now instead of accusatory. Oh well.

Me: “No problem, Hon. I’ll talk to you later.”

Well how about that. Just when I thought my boyfriend was going to deliver some horrible news about why this whole affair was about to blow up in our faces, instead I find it’s the exact opposite. I can only surmise that Greg took one look at Madison at practice today, and was just overwhelmed with the memory from last night of her sitting buck ass naked, spread-eagled in front of his face, and that was all it took. He needed that again. And he needed it in a bad way.

There is still the whole question of whether Maddie’s going to be as DTF (do people still use that acronym?) as her coach is, but I’m relatively optimistic. In fact, I decide to check in and give Maddie a call right after I hang up with Greg.

She’s doing well, and just like Greg, she seems to be in a very pleasant mood today. I suggest getting together sometime tomorrow afternoon before her game, and so we agree to meet up at a cafe near their school.

Okay, this’ll be perfect. We can get some coffee, go for a little walk, and then I’ll casually let her know that Greg is interested in having sex with her. I mean, what could possibly go wrong with that? 😛

Anyhoo, tomorrow afternoon rolls around and Maddie and I meet up at the coffee shop as planned. It’s a pretty trendy spot, and it’s basically the anti-Starbucks, meaning it’s not very efficient, but the coffee is extremely good. Maddie’s already there when I arrive, and we exchange a brief hug when I come in through the door.

Me: “Hey, good to see you! How’re you doing??”

Maddie (chipper as can be): “I’m good! I’m great. How’re you doing? How’s… you know… doing?”

Ha. Something about how she just phrased that is too funny.

Me (giving her a knowing smile): “He’s good. Yeah, feeling much better about everything.”

Maddie: “Yeah, it seemed like everything was good yesterday at practice. But not in like a weird, too good of a way or anything.”

This makes me laugh. It’s funny how both of them ended up describing their practice in exactly the same way.

After our initial chit chat, we get in line and eventually place an order for our drinks. We both get lattes, although Maddie gets a caramel one while I get my traditional vanilla.

While we’re standing and waiting for our drinks, we get interrupted by this tall, African-American boy who clearly knows Maddie, and I just have to say is pretty much the cutest, most handsome, fit looking high school athlete type I could ever imagine. Wow.

The Adorable Black Kid: “Mad Dog!!! What is up??? You ready for your game tonight?!?”

Maddie (blushing ever so slightly, but mostly playing it cool): “Hey! Yeah, it’s gonna be a tough one, though. I assume you’re coming?”

Okay, I probably shouldn’t refer to this kid by his race here. Instead, let him be known as Hot Mystery Boy.

Hot Mystery Boy: “Yeah, you know it! And don’t be actin’ all modest. Central’s about to get run over tonight.”

Maddie (laughing): “If you say so. I like your confidence.”

At this point, it doesn’t seem like Maddie is going to introduce me to her classmate, and honestly it would be kind of weird if she did, so I’m perfectly content just watching this interaction from a few feet away.

Hot Mystery Boy: “I’m gonna be tracking your stats, Mad Dog. I’m expecting a minimum of three steals tonight when you get in. Those Central guards are in trouble!”

Maddie (smiles): “I’ll do my best. But three steals is a lot to ask if I’m only in the game for like five minutes.”

Hot Mystery Boy (shaking his head): “No, that’s no good. You need more court time than that! What is up with that?? Your coach, man, it’s pretty clear he doesn’t appreciate you!”

Hot Mystery Boy (clearly joking): “You want me to go talk some sense into him?!?”

Maddie laughs. And speaking of funny comments, this kid is definitely in the running for most ironic comment of the year, in suggesting that Maddie’s basketball coach doesn’t appreciate her. Ha. If only he knew how ridiculous a statement that was!

Maddie (still smiling, smiling, smiling): “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’m good.”

Hot Mystery Boy (sticks out his hand to give Maddie a fist bump): “Alright Mad Dog, no mercy tonight. I’m serious.”

And with that, this gorgeous, charming, dark-skinned Adonis gives Madison one more knee-buckling smile before heading out of the cafe. Immediately after, we hear the barista call our names letting us know our lattes are ready.

We walk up, grab our drinks and I give Maddie a look.

Maddie (blushing for real now): “What?!? What are you looking at me for?”