Dirty Curve

by Meagan Brandy

“Come again, Coach? Shower must have gotten water in my ears or something, ‘cause no way I heard you right.” I shake my head, adding to my own bullshit and sending the remnant droplets from my hair flying all over. He leans forward, unfazed. “It’s been two weeks and you haven’t met with that tutor of yours yet. Why?” “Haven’t needed to.” He nods. “Interesting, because I got an email from your professor that says you never made up the assignments you missed. You know, the ones that I promised him you would when I covered for your ass two weeks ago?” “I’m playing on Friday, Coach.” He lifts his chin, clicking and unclicking his pen. “Your grade’s at a sixty-six percent, you have to have at least a seventy to hit the field. You know this. My team, my standards.”