Chapter 9: Final Four

The morning after Carol told the team that I might be sleeping on the bus, she was waiting for me in the student parking lot when I pulled in. She came over to my car before I had time to get out, with a big smile on her face, so I knew she must have good news.

It was a nice morning, so my window was down. She leaned against the car door, like a drive-in waitress, and said, “Some of the parents got together and found a place for you to stay this weekend. Milly’s dad has stayed there before and recommended it. The parents are paying for it too, so drop that silly idea you had about sleeping on the bus.”

“Is it the same hotel as you guys?”

“Afraid not, but it’s not far away. From what I saw online, I think it’s a little nicer too. Here,” she said as she handed me a sheet of paper, “all the details, so you can let your parents know where you’ll be. God, Alex, I’m so happy I could kiss you, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“We could jump into the backseat. I don’t think anybody will see us.”

“You nut.” She leaned closer and said, “You know the best part about you being in a different hotel?”

I played along, shaking my head like I had no idea where she was going. “If I happen to want to come see you, to talk about volleyball, of course, no nosy players will know where I am.”

“You are devious, Miss Wilson.”

It promised to be a very busy weekend.

Thursday was a big day. After lunch, we met in the gym. Carol had everyone double-check that they had everything they needed in their bags: uniforms, knee and elbow pads, hair ties, etc. She normally didn’t bother checking that closely, trusting that her players were mature enough to take care of themselves, but it was a long drive home if anyone forgot anything important.

Everybody was excited because we’d already seen the bus idling outside the gym. Carol and our athletic director had the team line up in a row, and we marched out like an invading army. I’d heard there might be some students waiting to see us off, but I didn’t expect a full-bore pep rally, with cheerleaders, some of the band, and what looked like half of the student body. Even Mrs. Hargis, our principal, who wasn’t known to be much of a supporter of the school’s athletic teams, was there. That explained why Carol had taken so long talking to the team in the gym; she’d been stalling to let everyone get in place for our surprise sendoff. After Mrs. Hargis and our A.D. gave quick speeches, Carol introduced the players one by one, and we got on the bus.

Our driver turned out to be a very attractive young man, according to the girls. He wasn’t my type. Carla and Monica sat up front, trying to flirt with him. Carol told them to leave him alone and let him concentrate on driving. As they headed back to their usual seats, Carla stopped, leaned over, and asked Carol, “Is he gonna be with us all weekend?”

“Yeah,” Carol told her, “he’s our driver for whatever we need. Leave him alone. He’s too old for you girls anyway.”

“Gee, coach,” Monica, who was standing behind Carla, said, “he’s not too old for me.”

“Damn it, girls, we’re on our way to win a championship, not to get laid. Now, go away.” As Carla and Monica giggled and headed down the aisle, Carol turned to me and whispered, “Did I really just say that?”

“‘Fraid so, coach,” I told her. “And I’m sure everybody will know about it by the time we get to the hotel. We might even make it our pregame chant: ‘we’re not here to get laid.’

After that, it took a few minutes for everyone to settle down and get comfortable. An hour or so into the trip, most of the players were napping or listening to music. I was sitting in my usual place behind Carol, with Becky sitting next to me. As Carla had warned me, she was getting very clingy, even with her hymen still intact.

The bus, unlike the clunky school buses we usually took, had very efficient air conditioning, and I started to get chilly. Becky did too, so

I got up, looked in the overhead bin, and found a blanket. I opened it and covered both of our bodies. Becky leaned against my shoulder and made herself very comfortable. Carol saw what was happening and didn’t say anything, but she did give me a bit of a dirty look. It would have been more than that if she had known what Becky’s hand was doing under the blanket.

When we got to the hotel, Carol and I made sure everyone got checked in and knew where their rooms were. I sat in the lobby while all the players went to explore their rooms and got ready for dinner. While I was waiting, the bus driver, Mitch, sat down next to me.

“So, you’re the coach?” he asked.

“Assistant,” I told him.

“Are you a teacher too? I know when I was in high school, most of the coaches were teachers. You don’t look old enough to be a teacher.”

“I’m still a student. It’s a long story.”

“Geez, it must be challenging to be surrounded by all those hot girls,” Mitch said.

“It’s a hard job, but somebody’s gotta do it,” I told him.

He laughed and said, “I’ve seen a few volleyball games on TV. Do your girls wear those really tight shorts?”

“That’s the uniform,” I told him.

“Who were those girls who were talking to me?”

“Monica is the hottie, and Carla is...”

“ ... the motormouth,” Mitch finished my thought. “How old are they?”

I was getting annoyed with how much interest Mitch was showing in the players, so I tried to slow his roll. “They’re eighteen, and my advice is don’t mess around with them.” Was that me saying that?

“Sure, sure, just curious. Well, I’m going to check out my room. I’m in the hotel next door. See you later, Alex.”

As Mitch was leaving, Carol came back in the lobby and said, “Let’s get you settled in.” I followed her out the door and down the street. It wasn’t far, maybe a hundred yards, an easy walk. I saw Mitch going in the front door before we got there, so I knew we were in the same hotel. I was hoping he wouldn’t find out where I was and keep bugging me about the girls. It turned out I didn’t have to worry, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

After I checked in, Carol accompanied me to my room. As soon as I opened the door, I could tell that this hotel was much nicer. I saw a big-screen TV and the biggest bed I’d ever seen. Carol saw it too. She smiled and said, “You could have an orgy here, not that you would ... or should.”

It was too late; images of maybe half the team rolling around with me in that bed were already taking up residence in my imagination. “Don’t worry,” I told her, “we’re here to win the tournament, no time for fooling around.”

“Good boy,” she said, “but we might need some relaxation too.”

I remembered what ‘relaxation’ meant the last time she had asked for it. I would still occasionally get an erection when I thought about that evening in her bedroom. I guess Carol must have sensed what I was thinking, because she added, “Don’t worry, Alex. I don’t need any more anal sex. That’s like a once-a-decade thing for me.” I was relieved and disappointed at the same time.

We headed back to the team’s hotel. As we were leaving my hotel, we saw Mitch talking to the desk clerk. We exchanged a quick greeting, then as he headed for the elevators, I whispered to Carol, “I don’t trust him. He’s way too interested in our girls.”

“Our girls? Where did that come from?” Carol laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m going to keep them on a tight leash, and I expect your help with that. Sounds like you’re already on the job, Dad.”

Carol had spotted an Italian restaurant on our way into town and decided that lots of pasta would be good the night before our semi-final game. We had some time before we left, so Carol and I went to her room to wait.

We started talking about the tournament, and she told me something I wasn’t aware of: two of our players were on their periods that weekend.

“Who?” I asked. I wasn’t really clued into stuff like that yet.

“Jennie and Becky. You didn’t know about Becky?”

“No,” I told her, “but it does explain why she’s been so cranky this week.”

“And you probably thought it was you,” she laughed.

I turned the TV on and found a sports talk show. I don’t think either of us cared about which baseball player had just signed a multi-million-dollar contract, but it was something to do. Carol perched on the edge of her bed, like a sparrow ready to take off if a cat showed up, and I sat in one of the chairs. That didn’t last long. Carol got up and started pacing, like she did in her office when something was bugging her. I knew what that meant; she was wound up tight, and it was beginning to affect me too.

She got some clothes out of her suitcase and went into the bathroom to change. She came out wearing a collared shirt with the name and logo of our school, and jeans - her normal game-day outfit. She looked ready to get on the bus and head to the tournament site a day early. I was waiting for her to tell me she needed some TLC that night, but instead she said, “Let’s go wait for the team in the lobby.”

By the time we got there, most of the players were already waiting for us. Mitch was there too, talking to Carla and Monica. Carol noticed and walked over to talk to him. I thought she might have been warning him to stay away from her players, but I later found out she had something else in mind.

The restaurant turned out to be as good as we had hoped. We were joined by some parents who had made the trip with us. The place had a room that looked like it was for special groups, and that evening, we filled it. Carol and I sat at a table with Mitch, and much to my consternation, they got along fine. The dude seemed to flirt with any female he came across. I even started to feel something that I finally recognized as a bit of jealousy. That was a new experience for me, and I tried to purge it from my mind.

When we got back to the hotel, Carol had a brief meeting with the team and told them the rules. “Everybody in your rooms by 9. You don’t have to go to bed, but I don’t want to see you out after that. No hanging out in other people’s rooms or roaming around. This isn’t a vacation. I heard the hotel has a pretty good breakfast buffet, and I recommend you all take advantage of that. Since our game is at two, we won’t have time for lunch. Everybody should be ready to get on the bus by 10. I want us to get there early enough to watch the other semifinal, so we can check out the team we might be playing for the championship.”

“What do you mean ‘might’, coach. We’re gonna kick ass tomorrow,” Carla said, which drew a cheer from the rest of the team.

“All right, I misspoke. My bad,” Carol said. “Okay then, you guys have a couple of hours before curfew, so do whatever you want.”

When I got back to my room, I started reading the book I had bought at the mall, a horror anthology, my favorite kind of reading. I was halfway expecting Carol to come knocking, but it didn’t happen. I couldn’t help wondering if she was getting her stress relief from the handsome bus driver, but then I decided it was none of my business. Whatever happened this weekend, it was probably going to be the end of me working with, and screwing, my favorite teacher.

Everyone was on their best behavior the next morning; up early, had a good breakfast, and were ready to go when Mitch brought the bus around to the front of the hotel.