Slow and Steady Rush by Laura Trentham Page B

with a sly smile, smoothing the thin mustache he’d been working at growing all summer.
    Robbie was immediately on guard. “She’s nearly ten years older than you boys. Don’t be getting any ideas. For one thing it’d be illegal.”
    “I turn eighteen in two weeks,” said Miles.
    “I’m already eighteen,” said Jamal. Everyone looked in his direction. “Got held back in elementary school. Now I’m glad I had a hard time remembering my letters.” He sauntered past Robbie with a pronounced, limping strut.
    “You’re going to pull a muscle if you keep walking like that,” Robbie said in a disgusted voice, grabbing the young man’s collar. “Let me make something perfectly clear … boys .” He made eye contact with every one of them. “Miss Wilde is doing all of us a favor here. I don’t want to throw anyone off the team for poor grades or ill-advised conduct. Keep your hands to yourselves, is that clear?”
    His collar still in Robbie’s fist, Jamal mock saluted. “Yes, sir. But, what if she can’t keep her hands off all this?” He gestured down the hundred and fifty pounds of his lean body.
    “Somehow I think she’ll be able to control herself.” Robbie had a hard time keeping a smile off his face.
    “You staking a claim, Coach?” Miles asked.
    A wave of annoyance washed away his amusement.
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said and stalked away.
    Laughter trailed him to his office. He kicked the door shut. His diploma from Vanderbilt rattled on the wall and skewed off-center. He straightened the frame and used his shirt to dust the glass. He wasn’t big on posting his accomplishments, but that diploma represented more than a degree earned. The piece of paper was part penance for his past mistakes and part warning to never repeat them. Because of a few minutes of lost control, he’d come within a knife’s edge of screwing up his entire life.
    But his diploma also reminded him anything was possible with enough hard work. He was using the same mentality to turn the football team around. You didn’t win games through luck and fairy dust. You put the time in—lifting weights, running drills, watching film. Slowly, he could see the kids buying into his program of hard work and preparation.
    His pool of players was midrange talented. He had a handful of Division II prospects and one or two that might be recruited to major programs. But, only if they won. Most would never see a collegiate field unless they were cheering from the stands.
    Football was their life now, but Robbie could see past that, even if they saw only next Friday night’s game with their youth-supplied blinders. Part of his job was to get them ready for life after high school football. He took it seriously. School started in two weeks, and their first game loomed soon after. He buried himself in the logic and comfort of calculus for the next hour.
    Sick of frozen pizza, he stopped in town to pick up Chinese takeout. Across the street, Tyler staggered out of the local pizzeria under a ridiculous number of boxes. Robbie tossed the takeout bag onto the seat next to Avery and jogged across.
    “Feeding an army?” Robbie opened Tyler’s door and grabbed the top boxes.
    His center flashed a smile and loaded half the boxes into his truck. “Just all the seniors of the team. We decided to cover the next couple of chapters. Want to join us? I’m sure Miss Darcy and Miss Ada won’t mind.”
    Robbie wasn’t too sure of that. “You boys roped Miss Ada in on this? She’s still recuperating, you know.”
    “Yep, but while Miss Darcy finished up the pies, Miss Ada took over the discussion. She can quote whole sections of the book.”
    “Pies?”
    “Blackberry, I think. That reminds me, I need to grab some ice cream.”
    They stacked the rest of the pizza on the floorboard.
    “I’ll bring the ice cream.” Robbie chewed the inside of his mouth.
    Tyler climbed in and tapped the steering wheel with balled-up hands. “Coach, can I tell