Chapter 22: Monday, Sept. 3

Kacie was not a happy camper when my alarm went off at 6:30.

“Don’t you know I’m supposed to be sleeping in today?” she grumped as I climbed over her to get out of bed and kill the alarm.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’ll pass your complaint along to Coach Tucker.”

That earned me a derisive snort as my sister snuggled back under the covers. I dressed in workout shorts, a T-shirt and running shoes and hit the bathroom.

I was in the kitchen fixing a bowl of cereal when Dad staggered in looking for caffeine. Kacie wasn’t the only one in our family who wasn’t a morning person, but Dad was willing to get up early when golf was involved.

“What’re your plans for the day?” he asked while waiting for the coffee maker to produce enough to give him that first jolt he so desperately needed.

“I’m going to the club after practice,” I said as I dug in. “Mom wants me to help clean out the cabanas so the members won’t have to do it themselves. There’s supposed to be several of the guys who worked there this summer helping out.

“After that, I’m supposed to take Mrs. Jenson’s housekeeper grocery shopping. She wants to be sure to get what I like for when I house sit next week and I get to carry the bags as payment.”

“Try not to get her pregnant,” Dad snarked.

“That’d probably get me banned from every grocery store in the metro area,” I replied.

As much as I was enjoying such witty repartee, I needed to get moving. I finished my cereal and went back to my room to grab what I’d need to drive in public, adding a cap since I’d be spending the afternoon in the sun. My sister was enjoying her lie-in, slumbering peacefully in my bed. I kissed her on the cheek and made sure my door was closed, then went to pick up Morgan.

The little elf was walking toward our street about a block away when I got to the Beemer. I decided to save her a few steps and both of us a couple of minutes, cranked the engine and navigated toward her.

“Need a ride, little girl?” I asked as I pulled alongside.

“I probably shouldn’t,” she said, opening the door and climbing in. “My mommy told me not to get in cars with strange men. Are you strange?”

“As strange as you want me to be,” I leered.

“Get going, you goof,” she ordered as she buckled up. “Coach Tucker has a schedule to keep. He’s in the afternoon flight at the country club today.”

We reached the fieldhouse a little before 7:30. With a quick smooch, Morgan headed for the coaches office while I went to dress for practice. There seemed to be much whispering among the girl student trainers when I went to get taped. I ignored it and was on the field well before Coach Tucker got things started.

I probably should have stayed inside. Jed and Chuck started in as soon as I stepped onto the field.

“There’s that amazing newcomer,” Jed cracked. “I can’t wait to see what he’s got up his sleeve for this week.”

“I didn’t expect him to take me seriously when I said he was our secret weapon,” Chuck added.

“He was right about one thing,” Coach Wilson said as we lined up for calisthenics. “He does need to learn to block better. We can’t count on people trippin’ over him all the time.”

I just bit my tongue and stayed quiet as they had their fun. It wasn’t like I’d done anything to get us beat. Thankfully, Coach Tucker blew his whistle to get things started before it got too bad.

Practice was a typical Monday workout, at least that’s what the other guys said. I hadn’t been a part of last Monday’s routine thanks to my involvement on the scout team. In addition to all the regular drills, I was introduced to this week’s game plan, which was slightly different from last week.

The main thing was we’d be looking to pass early and run later, but Coach still expected us to be balanced. The Panthers had stacked the box in their opener and been torched for more than 400 passing yards. Reggie was already counting how many touchdown passes he might get and a couple of the starting receivers were looking forward to putting up big numbers.

We’d been pretty balanced in the first half against the Bearcats before concentrating on running the clock. We wound up with 443 total yards on seven possessions. We’d rushed for right at 200 yards in the second half, throwing just one pass after the starters were pulled.

It would be a different type of game this week. While the Panthers didn’t exactly push the pace, they didn’t try to eat the clock like the Bearcats. We could expect upwards of a dozen possessions this time unless we took the air out of the ball.

We were working on short-yardage situations against the defense when Marshawn had to get his two cents in. The starting offense and defense had gone against each other for a few plays, then swapped out for the second string.

“You must think you’re hot stuff,” he snarled as he came to the sideline.

I couldn’t help but grin at his antics. I thought I did pretty well not to laugh out loud.

“Did I say somethin’ funny?” Marshawn growled as the coaches went over keys and reads with the backups.

“That’s almost exactly what that safety said to me Friday night,” I said, “just before he knocked me on my butt again.”

“And you think that’s funny,” Marshawn said, shaking his head. “You got a strange sense of humor, Supermodel. But if you enjoy gettin’ knocked on ya butt, I’ll be glad to oblige.”

“What was funny is that’s the play Manny scored on,” I said. “The guy was so focused on knocking me around, he basically took himself out of the play. All I did was give him something to fall over. The rest was all Manny.”

“Robinson! Get in there at the U,” Coach Wilson shouted. I half expected Marshawn to jump in on defense just so he could knock me on my butt.

The Panthers played a straight 3-4 with outside linebackers normally on the slot receivers. We were just running plays at half-speed. My job was to stay between the outside linebacker on my side, a junior named Will Larson, and the ballcarrier. On everything that wasn’t a running play to my side, that basically meant running straight ahead. On plays to my side, I was to take my man whichever direction he was already going with the back reacting accordingly. Again, I didn’t expect to be playing in a situation where my getting the block would be the difference in the game.

The fun stuff started happening when we worked on a few passes and run-pass options. Coach Wilson had me sub in at the V receiver for Ngogwe Olangbuikwe. We were told it was third-and-2 at the 6-yard line and we were down by four, so we really wanted the touchdown. Coach Sullivan, the offensive coordinator, called an RPO where the wide receivers would run patterns into the end zone while the slots ran routes deep enough to get a first down.

Dontay Alexander, the outside linebacker on my side, was lined up a step or so outside me, making my route a slant right into Marshawn’s area. At the snap, I took a step forward and cut inside as Reggie put the ball in Javon’s belly. With Luke Riley crashing the gap, Reggie pulled the ball back and threw it right at my face. Just as I was reaching up to catch it, a freight train blew right through my sternum. The ball sailed well out of my reach.

“ARE YOU HAVIN’ FUN YET?!?!?!” Marshawn screamed.

“DANG IT, TAYLOR!” Coach Fuller, the defensive coordinator, shouted. “THAT’S PI! YOU JUST GAVE ‘EM A FRESH SET OF DOWNS!”

“But I knocked ya on ya ass,” Marshawn growled at me. “And I’ll do it every time you get close enough.”

“And I’ll keep taking the penalty,” I groaned as I tried to pry my body out of the turf.

I subbed out as everybody else lined up to run another play. Coach Wilson just shook his head as I trotted by.

“You got more luck than any white man has a right to,” he muttered. “Try to save some of it for the games. We may need it some day.”

“Yes, sir, Coach,” I grinned.

The rest of practice passed without incident. The special teams segment was only notable in that Dontrell Williams, one of our cornerbacks, replaced Ronnell Meadows as the No. 1 punt returner. Coach Ramirez said a couple of other guys would get chances in the next two weeks before they settled on one for the start of district.

We’d barely finished our gassers, huddled around Coach Tucker and shouted “TEAM!” on three when Coach Bennett ordered us to hit the weightroom for upper-body day. I took it he was also in the afternoon flight at the country club.

After weights, we broke up into position groups to review game film. While Justin Johnson was deservedly praised for his TD catch and the receivers as a whole received generally favorable comments, I had to wait until the very end to have my performance on offense critiqued. I didn’t exactly receive rave reviews.

Coach Wilson lectured me on my angle of approach and attack, my form upon making contact and various other deficiencies. All in all, I thought, it could have been a lot worse.

“At least you kept at it,” Coach Wilson said. “You managed to stay between your man and the ball every play.”

The special teams review was only marginally better, but still mostly positive. Coach Ramirez was still chafed about me burning a fake we might need later. At least he understood why I did it when we watched the play.

“Coach Bennett coulda scored with that hole,” Coach Ramirez said as he paused the video, showing the amount of open space I had to work with. “And he’s a fat, old man with bad knees.”

The onside kick was also dissected with Fabrice praised for his accuracy with the kick.

“I’ll expect you to put it over or bend it around the wall when we start soccer, though,” Coach Ramirez said. “We’ll work on a couple of other methods this week, the high bounce and the short pooch. Put it out there right at 10 yards and let somebody run under it.”

The only area that was severely criticized was punt return, with Ronnell’s muff receiving as much attention as the other plays combined.

Just before we broke up, Morgan came through with stacks of game plans, separating them into offense, defense and special teams. I grabbed one of each that I would need and headed off to get my shower. The team room had gotten rather fragrant with 86 sweaty teenage boys in close quarters, but we were done in time for Coach Tucker’s foursome to hit the driving range before its tee time.

As I crossed the hallway back to the locker room, I noticed the clip from the Daily News posted on the bulletin board. Under the banner headline “A Good Start” was a six-column photo of me carrying the ball over the goal line. It showed no white jerseys in the frame, but did include Jed, Andrew and Quinton Nguyen — the center and two guards — in the background looking for someone to block.

“Don’t let it go to your head, kid,” Coach Miller snapped as he clanked up behind me on crutches.

“Not a problem, Coach,” I said. “Jed and a few other guys have already given me grief about it. I haven’t even read the article and really don’t want to from what they said.”

Left unsaid was had I just let Jeremy kick the field goal and the rest of the game played out like it did, we would have won 51-14. I still would have missed the bonus question on my Algebra II test.

After showering, dressing and being on the receiving end of even more barbs from my teammates, I got a solid count on how many cabana attendants would be on hand at the club. I texted the total to Mom, adding that we’d all be there by 1 p.m. I told the guys they would probably be better off eating lunch as soon as they arrived as Charlie would be closing down the snack bar as early as he could.

“You need any extra help?” Marshawn asked as I prepared to leave.

“Couldn’t hurt,” I said. “We’ll have to check with Mr. Alvarez on how to get you paid, though.”

“The free lunch will be enough,” the linebacker said. “I just want to get my name in to do this next summer. That’d dang sure be more fun than workin’ construction again.”

“You’ll have to get a ride,” I said. “I have to take Morgan home and I doubt you’ll fit in my glovebox.”

Which reminded me, I still had Jan’s lingerie stashed there. Maybe I could swing by the apartment after I dropped Morgan off.

And since I was still waiting for Morgan, I decided to inform Coach Tucker of my living arrangements for next week. I knocked on the door to his office and waited until I was bade to enter.

“What can I do for you, Robinson?” the coach asked as I stepped inside. He looked like he was in a hurry to get to the club himself.

“I wanted to tell you that I’ve been volunteered to house sit for a friend some over the next few months,” I said. “I won’t be at home if my name comes up for curfew checks, but I won’t be out running around. And I will have my cell with me.”

That got his attention. He gave me a curious look.

“Just where will you be staying?” he asked.

“In a guest room at Arlene Jenson’s,” I said. “She’s the lady who got me into modeling. She’ll be going out of town on business about once a month starting next week.”

I provided Arlene’s address and phone number as well as the dates I’d be staying at the apartment.

“I’ll check this out,” Coach said. “At least it’s in a good neighborhood. Your parents have approved this?”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “My mother and Mrs. Jenson should both be at the club right now. You could probably catch them before your tee time if you hurry.”

“I’ll have to see,” he said. “I’ve still got a little work to do here if my student aide will get in gear.”

As if answering a summons, Morgan breezed into the office with another stack of paperwork. After making sure the coach had what he needed, she hooked my arm and directed me toward the door.

“Give me just a minute,” she said once we were in the reception area. “I’ve got to get a few things.”

“I’ll meet you at the car,” I said, receiving a quick smooch.

It was more like five minutes before Morgan arrived, but there was still plenty of time before I was supposed to be at the pool.

“You didn’t hear this from me, but you’re listed on the depth chart at punt returner this week,” she said as we pulled out of the parking lot.

“Why in the world would they do that?” I wondered.

“Because you can catch the ball,” Morgan said. “Coach Ramirez said he’d rather take a fair catch every time than give up the field position by letting the ball roll dead. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing when he said you have the best hands on the team.”

“Was it really that funny?” I asked.

“Let’s just say I agree,” she said with a saucy grin. “Staci, Bethany and Kacie probably would, too. And a couple hundred other girls in school would sure like to find out.”

I just shook my head and concentrated on driving. The last thing I needed was more girls trying to get my attention.

I dropped Morgan off with a kiss and headed to Arlene’s, finally ridding my glovebox of its illicit contents. At least none of my passengers from the last week had opened the damn thing. I shuddered to think what Elise Stirling’s reaction would have been.

There was no sign of Marie, but I was sure we would make contact before too long.

I arrived at the Activity Center about 12:30 to see a few of the other guys already there. One thing I hadn’t expected was the snack bar was already closed with all food being served buffet style as part of the Labor Day picnic. There was plenty to feed all the linemen in our group without any danger of shorting the patrons.

The pool was pretty full of younger kids enjoying one last chance for a dip outdoors with a dozen varsity and JV cheerleaders serving as cabana attendants, but most of the cabana patrons seemed to already be lining up their personal items for removal. I filled a plate from the buffet line and headed to No. 16, where Arlene was ready to get going as soon as I finished eating.

We were discussing what needed to go where when Mom and Bob Alvarez strolled up. They informed us which pieces of furniture were to be placed into storage and which were to be left in the cabanas. Cheerleaders not on cabana duty would follow us, giving each cabana a good cleaning as they were emptied.

We’d divide guys up around the pool, but some patrons would be staying until the very end. Others, like Arlene, wanted to get it done now. There would be enough hands available that we should be able to get done quickly.

With everybody pitching in, we had the items Arlene needed to take home loaded into Jed’s pickup in a matter of minutes. He’d deliver them to the house and store everything in the room that connected with the one he was using with Keri and Erin.

Arlene passed out tips to all who helped and prepared to leave. Marshawn’s eyes opened wide at the size of the tip. They opened wider when the redheaded goddess gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Marie will be ready to go grocery shopping by 5, but she knows it may be after 6 before you get there,” she said before departing.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I said. “Make sure she understands that ‘ready to go’ includes underwear. I’ll be checking.”

With a smirk, Arlene bade me farewell and gave Jed one last round of directions. As they left, I helped some of the other guys move the chaise lounges to the front of the pool area. We’d have to rearrange some things in the storage rooms first, but then we could just stack the lounges as high as we could reach. Mr. Alvarez said we could probably get them all in six to eight stacks.

There was a bit of a lull in the action at that point. The other guys headed back to the buffet line — the offensive linemen could definitely put it away, especially when it was free — but I got waylaid by two of my girlfriends.

“Gary, could you help us carry this stuff to Arlene’s cabana?” Staci asked sweetly, nodding to a couple of buckets of cleaning supplies.

The cheerleader was accompanied by Bethany. Both were dressed for work in jogging shorts combos with bandanas covering their hair.

I quickly agreed, hefted a bucket in each hand and fell in behind. It struck me that neither bucket was very heavy, but I didn’t feel like the girls were taking advantage of me. The view of their asses in tight shorts made it worth doing the favor.

I toted the buckets inside before they sprung their trap.

“Bethany has something she needs your help with,” Staci grinned. “I’ll go help Libby with No. 17.”

“What are you two up to?” I demanded, fixing the girls with my best glare.

“We need to juggle the schedule a little,” Staci explained. “Beth’s agreed to give up Sadie Hawkins because of special circumstances, so I’m letting her have some time this week. Morgan’s agreed to a day for next week. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

“What special circumstances?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” Staci repeated. “Just trust me.”

With a kiss, the cheerleader was out the door, drawing the privacy curtain on her way. I turned my attention to the little blonde, who looked ... hopeful, yet expectant.

“I’m supposed to be working,” I said.

“You are,” she said with a naughty grin. “You’re helping me with a plumbing problem. I’ve been wanting this ever since that day you went all caveman on Morgan.”

“I oughta put you over my knee,” I snorted.

“No time,” she said. “Maybe on our next date. Now hurry. I’ve been crazy horny all week. Ever since Mom told me about what you did last Sunday.”

“What if somebody comes looking for us?” I asked.

“Staci’s standing guard outside,” Bethany said. “She’s cleaning the glass door.”

Just then, the cheerleader started singing a Martina McBride song, “Safe in the Arms of Love,” at the top of her voice. Well, I figured, if they went to this much trouble, I may as well take advantage of the situation.

I grabbed Bethany, spun her around and pushed her until she was kneeling on the couch, almost the same position Jan had assumed on my last visit to No. 16. I yanked down her jogging shorts and panties, then pushed my shorts down far enough to be out of the way and stroked myself to hardness.

The little blonde squealed and shivered as I roughly forced my way in.

“Hush,” I commanded. “I don’t need my mother hearing you. The entire cheer squad wouldn’t keep her from coming in here.”

I reached under her T-shirt, pushing her bra cups up and grabbing a delectable tit in each hand as I started pounding away. I could only hope sounds of our activity were covered by Staci’s singing.

I want arms that know how to rock me

Safe in the arms of love

I want to fall and know that love has caught me

Safe in the arms of love

Bethany flung her head back as good feelings hit her, but managed to remain fairly quiet despite her ragged breathing.

I didn’t last very long, which was probably a good thing for me. It seemed to be enough for Bethany, though, as she moaned and shuddered just as I unloaded.

After catching my breath, I got my clothing presentable and prepared to get back to work.

“Behave yourself,” I commanded, popping her on the butt hard enough to leave a handprint. “And go clean up. We don’t need the whole club seeing you with come dripping down your legs.”