The Odd Ballerz by Ruthie Robinson Page B

your kind of speed. I’m in good shape, and used to running, pretty strong too, not your kind of strength, though,” she said as she reached out and wrapped her hands around his left bicep.
    He looked at her hands on his arm, surprised and yet not.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, removing her hands.
    “No problem,” he said and smiled. “Campers will be split into two groups after today and will train in those groups next week. How about you fall in with skill players and we’ll go from there. You should probably get started on your laps,” he said.
    “Sure,” she said and smiled.
    He watched her move away from him, surprised to see her here. She had called this afternoon, said she’d been thinking about trying out for the Ballerz for some time, heard they were looking for players. He’d gotten lots of calls like hers. It was one thing to call, but another to a show. Women’s football looked quirky on paper, fun even, which was true, but it was also hard work, not as hard as the men’s game but close.
    She’d also said she was good friends with Alex, or maybe it was Jones she was good friends with, he couldn’t remember. She said she might come out tonight and keep her friend company. It was what good friends did, so it must have been Jones that was the good friend.
    He hoped that was the case and not another woman signing up because he was the coach, wanting him for purposes other than football. He hated it when that happened, as it had too many times before. It was past old. He thought he’d read interest there, but maybe not, and yes, he had become that jaded.
    He looked back over at the track. Some of the speedier boys were finishing up, making their way to the middle of the field. He continued with his scanning until he found her, Jones, at the back of the pack, of course. She was doing that walk-run thing that was more walk than run, but she was trying, he thought. He smiled.
    # # #
    “You weren’t kidding. You really are out of shape,” Aubrey said.
    “What?” Memphis said, startled, turning her head to her side. She almost fell over she was so surprised at seeing her friend here, running alongside her. “What are you doing here?” she asked, slowing down from her walk-run to a walk. She was going to blame her stopping on the surprise of seeing her friend, in case Coach Z showed with his whistle.
    “I’m going to try out for the team,” Aubrey said. She was running backwards now, and not a pant to be found in her voice, while Memphis walked and panted enough for the both of them.
    “When did you decide this?” She knew Aubrey was in good shape but had no idea what that looked like until now. It was pretty, all erect posture, and legs moving effortlessly, and backwards, no less.
    “Yesterday. Listening to you got me to thinking. I mean, it’s a great chance for me to learn a sport too,
and
with my good friend here. I know you think I’m such an athlete, that’s the real reason you won’t work out with me. You think I’ll think less of you, or look down at your physical conditioning. But I won’t. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
    “Who said anything about being ashamed?” Memphis said.
    She heard a whistle, looked up. It was Z, giving her that sign to get moving. She rolled her eyes, but started jogging again.
    “I see what you mean. He
is
cute,” Aubrey said.
    “Is that why you came?” Memphis said, stealing a glance out of the corner of her eye at Coach Z, whose glasses were still turned in her direction.
    “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit curious. And now that I’ve seen him up close, I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed.”
    “I don’t want you to get into trouble because of me, so let’s talk later,” Memphis said, her excuse for ending their conversation, but really she didn’t want to discuss Z with her friend. She glanced at him again. He had turned away, apparently satisfied that she was moving again.
    “You sure?”
    “I’m sure, really,”