“Hey Coach – it’s a pretty warm
day for tennis. Mind if I take off my shirt?”
He nearly drops the tennis ball canister he’s holding. “Mind? Why would I mind?
Nah, sport, go right ahead.”
“Sweet.” I peel it off and toss it aside and then stretch. “Much better. …Hey
coach whatcha staring at?”
“Oh um. Sorry. Nothing. You just reminded me of myself when I was young.”
I give him a grin. “Coach you’re a terrible liar.”
He turns red. “Don’t call your Coach a liar!”
I pick up the racket. “How about if you win this round, I’ll take a shower in
the public space instead of the stall this time?”
Coach totally freezes. The public space is where he showers. He suggested that
in the beginning so I’d have my privacy and we could be in the locker room at
the same time. I try not to laugh as I catch him catch himself drooling. He
looks like a pup that just saw a very big steak. “Yeah …yeah sure Sport. That sounds
like a real good challenge,” he says with a smirk. “Just don’t lose on purpose, sport. Big Daddy wants a real victory.”

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Text is fictional.