Chapter 7 Benched
Chapter seven
Benched
Shepherd Kingsley
“Starting offense take five!” Coach Bash—also known as Sebastian Holt—punctuates his shouting with the blow of his whistle. “Second string, fall in.”
I squint as sweat drips down into my eyes.
The late summer sun beats down on the crown of my head when I pull off my helmet and tuck it under my arm.
I jog off the field. One of our athletic managers hands me an orange water bottle.
I hold it over my head and squeeze, drenching my hair with the cold liquid.
Then I tip my head back and squirt the remainder into my mouth.
“These outdoor practices are brutal,” one of the offensive linemen, Aaron, grumbles as he plops down on the bench in front of me.
He’s not wrong. Practicing in full pads in the Georgia heat is miserable.
“We have to practice in the conditions we’re going to play in,” Cade, a wide receiver, states as he takes a seat beside Aaron. He tips his head back and pours water directly on his face.
“We played last year in the heat, so we know what it’s like. I say let the freshman practice while we go get some pizza,” Aaron says, making me and Cade laugh.
“Do you think of anything other than food?” I ask.
As an offensive lineman, he’s giant, and eats more than the average football player, which is a lot. Where I’m 6’2” and 210 pounds, he’s 6’5” and close to 330 pounds. All of that bulk comes in handy though when it’s time to block.
“Girls,” Cade answers for him. “He thinks of girls, though he can’t get one, so I don’t know why he bothers.”
Aaron shoves him. “I don’t see you with a girlfriend, either.”
“That’s because I’m waiting for the right woman,” Cade replies matter-of-factly.
Nearby, Coach stands with his hands on his hips, watching the field.
I’m not sure if he’s listening to us, given his focus on the play being run, but I wouldn’t put it past him to be paying attention to everything that’s going on in the stadium.
He’s got incredible observation skills; it’s one of the things that makes him so good at what he does.
“I’m looking for the right woman too. But to know she’s the one, you have to actually talk to her,” Aaron says.
I take a seat on the other side of Cade, splaying my legs out in front of me. “He’s got a point,” I chime in.
“I’ll know she’s the one when I see her. I don’t need words,” Cade says in a way that makes me believe he’s serious.
Aaron snorts. “You can’t seriously believe in that love-at-first-sight nonsense.”
“I’m pretty sure Coach said he fell in love with MJ at first sight,” Cade counters.
I watch Coach and see if he has any reaction to our words.
There’s a slight smile on his face that makes me think he is listening after all.
He and his wife, MJ, are famous online. Not because they try to be, but because America couldn’t help but fall in love with them.
Coach Bash is always talking about MJ and their daughters, Maddie and Sage, during interviews.
Plus, after every big win, he runs straight off the field to them.
“I guess that’s true.” Aaron stays quiet for a moment, then smirks. “Y’all got any idea when the cheerleaders practice? I could go put that love-at-first-sight theory to the test.”
I roll my eyes. Cade shoves Aaron and mutters something about him being a pig. Coach Bash slowly turns around. There’s a dark look on his face. One that rarely comes out. It’s usually only after a player does something exceptionally stupid.
“Did I hear you talking about cheerleaders over here?” Bash asks in a low tone.
“Uh—” Aaron starts to speak, but stops. “Sorry, Coach. I shouldn’t have worded it like that.”
Coach shakes his head. “No, you shouldn’t have.
You can take a lap for that.” Aaron blanches at the thought of running in this heat.
“But before you do, I want to make something clear: You are not to date a cheerleader. Don’t even go near them.
If I hear you’re fraternizing with them, you’ll be benched. ”
My eyes widen. That’s a heavy threat. I glance at the guys, who look as shocked as me. Would Coach really do that?
“And don’t view my words as some kind of cute challenge to find your way around. You may think you’re indispensable, but you are not. Understand?”
“Yes, Coach,” we say in unison.
He nods once. “Good. Make sure to spread the word.” His gaze lands on me. “I want you to ensure this rule is followed, Captain.” He emphasizes the word, reminding me of the responsibility on my shoulders.
“Yes, sir,” I reply.
He gives another sharp nod before walking back toward the edge of the field.
As soon as he walks away, it dawns on me why he made the rule: Jasmine.
He doesn’t want us dating one of his family members.
Which is understandable, but probably doesn’t warrant threatening to bench us.
He’s usually much more levelheaded and practical than that, but I know he’s also incredibly protective about the people he loves.
“The last time I saw Coach that mad was when Diego got drunk and stole the campus security golf cart,” Cade says quietly.
“He doesn’t want us to be distracted on the field,” I say. “If we’re going to win the national championship, we can’t afford to be staring at the sidelines.”
The guys nod as if what I’m saying makes sense. It does, but I know the truth. As team captain, though, I can’t have the rest of the guys questioning Coach’s judgment. I understand because I’ve known him since he coached my brother, but the others may not get it.
“Doesn’t bother me,” Aaron says with a shrug. “Plenty of other women out there.”
Cade nods in agreement. “I’m not losing my chance at a natty over a girl.”
“Yeah, that would be stupid,” I say, thinking of Jasmine.
Given her general disdain for me, I didn’t think anything would actually happen between us, but…it was nice to have the possibility. My future is more important, though.
I have a legacy to live up to. Jason had a perfect college record.
Multiple national championships, and now he’s won several Super Bowls.
Every time I blink, I’m compared to him.
There’s no room for error. I not only have to be just as good as him, but better.
If I don’t accomplish that, I’ll never have people talk about me for my accomplishments.
I’ll always be compared to Jason, always be called junior as if he were my dad instead of my brother.
Teasing Jasmine is fun, but that’s all it is. And it’s not like I even have to stop doing that. We can be friendly rivals. There’s no reason that has to change.
Coach blows his whistle three times. “I want to see some DB work on the second string. We’re in Cover 2, and I better not see any completions out there. Junior, your call for the offense, but no run plays,” he orders.
Junior. My jaw clenches at his use of the nickname that got bestowed on me last season. I despise it. Just because I share the same last name as my brother, doesn’t mean I’m trying to be him.
I pull my helmet back on and run to center field. My focus sharpens. I dismiss all thoughts of Jasmine and chess club, instead focusing on the mind game that football is. This is all there is. All I am. Slipping up is not an option.