Page 25 of The Penalty

This week, we’ve got a Saturday night home game, which is a big deal. The crowd is always insane, and my players feed off of it. The campus has been buzzing with excitement all week, especially since we’ve won our past two games. And I’m definitely feeling the pressure to keep the winning streak going. I think we all are.

We made a few stupid mistakes in last week’s game. We won, but we should’ve won by a bigger margin. We let the boys celebrate the win, but we also pushed them hard at practice all week.

The team is in the locker room getting suited up, and I’ve got a few extra minutes, so I go change my shirt in my office. I take off my white T-shirt and throw it on my chair before looking through the clean polos hanging in the small closet in my office.

I’m pulling one off the hanger when I hear a gasp followed by an “Oh shit.”

I turn to see McKenzie standing in my doorway, her eyes focused on my bare torso.

I quickly tug the polo over my head and start tucking it into my jeans.

“Sorry, I should’ve knocked. . .” she trails off, but I notice she doesn’t look away.

“And I should’ve shut the door.” I’m used to it being primarily males in the field house, especially on game days. It didn’t even cross my mind that someone could’ve walked in on me changing.

I hate to admit that I like the way McKenzie is looking at me, though. I know I shouldn’t like it and can’t quite figure out why I do, so I choose to ignore it altogether. That’s a problem for a different day.

“Did you need something?” I ask after she hasn’t said anything for entirely too long.

“Oh, um. Yeah, I did.” Her cheeks are slightly pink. “Josh and I were wondering if he could run with the team out of the tunnel to get an action shot.” Josh is her camera guy, I’m assuming. I never bothered to introduce myself to him.

I shrug. “Fine with me. Just don’t get crushed.”

She smiles. “Ok, thanks.”

“You going back toward the field? I’ll walk with you.”

I pass her in the doorway, and my hand brushes hers. It’s a nothing touch. A graze, if that. But it still feels like too much. I quickly pull my hand away and hope she didn’t notice, but hearing her breath hitch, I know she felt exactly what I did.

That’s not good at all.

I feel like a fucking teenager with a crush again, which is so damn stupid.

“You going out tonight?” I ask her, my voice coming out deeper than usual. I shake my head and clear my throat to get these thoughts out of my head. If we’re talking, I’m not thinking.

“Oh. Actually, Kylie asked me to come over after the game. . . if that’s ok with you.”

Kylie didn’t like football and definitely did not want to come to the game, but somehow, a few of her other friends convinced her. And I’m glad she decided to come. Maybe if she sees enough games, she’ll realize why I love this so much. It’s doubtful, but I’m hopeful anyway.

“Yeah, of course, that’s fine.” I tell myself that I can keep my eyes from wandering while McKenzie is at my house. I’m a grown adult and can control myself. Except here I am, trying to convince myself not to look at a twenty-one-year-old.

We stop in front of the home team locker room and stand there awkwardly, staring at each other. She looks like she wants to say something. I feel like I should say something, but nothing comes out. Is she feeling the same way I am? Whatever is pulling us together is completely inappropriate, though, and we need to sever it quickly.

Finally, she settles on, “I’ll see you on the sidelines, Coach.”

I nod and turn into the locker room before I make myself look like an even bigger fool.

The game is amazing. The team really came back from last week. I’m proud of everyone, and I can feel the relief when the fourth quarter ends and we’ve won by three touchdowns.

The stands are booming, and my players are celebrating on the field. This is why I do it. This feeling right here makes all the long days and grueling practices worth it.

The high of the win.

As soon as the game is over, I’ve got cameras in my face and people asking me questions. I’m expecting to see McKenzie in with the reporters as well, but I don’t. I’m disappointed, but I quickly shake it off and answer whatever’s thrown at me.

When I finally make my way toward the tunnel, McKenzie appears next to me with her camera guy. I don’t stop walking when she greets me. I can’t. If I stop and stare at her with this game-winning energy coursing through me, who knows what dumb shit will come out of my mouth.

“Hey Coach, great game.” I can tell she’s just as exhilarated as I am. She’s practically bouncing down the field with me.