The Odd Ballerz (24 page)

“Go out with me?” he asked.

“No,” she said, and the unexpectedness of the question, the quickness of her response, threw off her stride a bit. She felt a small twinge in her ankle and slowed down to a stop. He stopped too, stood beside her, concern in his gaze.

“Are you hurt?” he said, watching as she moved her ankle slowly in a circle. “I can take a look at it if you want. I am a nurse, you know,” he said, smiling.

“What would it take for you to leave me alone?”

He smiled. “Why would you want me to do that?”

“I have my reasons,” she said.

“I’ll race you for it,” he said.

“Excuse me. Race me for what?”

“A date with me, what else? If you win, I leave you alone, cut out all the smiling… everything. I totally won’t bother you anymore, ever,” he said, serious.

“Ever?” she asked.

“Ever,” he said.

“How tall are you?” she asked.

“Why does that matter?”

“It does and it doesn’t. I’m taller, longer legs, plus I’m fast, and, well, all of that combined might be more than you can handle and you’ll end up losing. It’s something to think about before you go making bets and all. I’m fast. I used to run track and I’m still in pretty good shape,” she said, serious, not a smile in sight; didn’t want him to think she was interested in the slightest.

“So is that a yes? You’re willing to race me?” he asked.

“Not every man can handle being on the losing end, especially to a woman,” she said.

“Your old boyfriends are not my problem. I can handle losing if that turns out to be the case, but you shouldn’t be so certain that’s how this will end.”

“Okay, then,” she said, irritated and all in now. “Let’s get this over with. You’ll leave me alone if you lose?” she asked again.

“I will,” he said.

“One lap then, give it your best shot,” she said, looking around the space. Someone had left a yellow sock off to the left side of the track. She walked over to retrieve it, laid it down on the outside of the track beside him. “This will be both the starting point and the finish line.” She pointed to the sock. “Let’s take a warm-up lap, and when we reach this sock again, the race begins, once around the track. Got it?” she said, serious, ready to put a period to the end of this dude.

“Warm-up lap first, right?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Okay,” he said, and he was jogging away from her then. She smiled at how easy this would be and took off, catching him easily, both of them moving smoothly around the track, in a nice simple warm-up. The moment they met the sock, the starting point, everything changed and it was an all-out foot race. Of course she was in the lead on the front stretch, hadn’t expected anything less, and was well into the first curve before she heard him breathing off to her left side. Like taking candy from a baby, going into the back stretch, and she thought to kick it into her other gear, because she could and she wanted to make a point by beating him; and she wanted that point to be clear.

She looked over her shoulder, something she rarely did, ’cause she heard him catching up to her. Not sure how that was possible, him with his short legs and all, but he was gaining on her. She faced forward again, focusing on reaching the end before him, which was proving harder than she thought. She looked over again, and he was beside her, two strides to her one. Good form, like he’d done this before, and he used to play football, but she’d thought high school, or had he said college? And her train of thought was not where it should be, as she was falling a second behind, and had about twenty meters left to the finish.

He was increasing the distance between them now; had that Michael Johnson running style of straight back and legs, arms pumping in sync, and he was two lengths ahead of her now and closing in on the finish line. What the hell, she thought, giving it all she had now, and was not even close there at the end. He was past the sock finish line and slowing down. He came to a stop at the top of the curve, bent over and working to catch his breath. She followed, bent over and working to catch her breath too. She looked up and over in time to lay witness to this big ole smile spread across his face.

“You lost,” he said, grinning now.

“I did,” she said.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll meet you outside the cafeteria, say eleven?”

“Is that your idea of a date?” she said.

“For now it is. Lunch, Tuesday, eleven; outside the front door of the cafeteria.”

“If you say so,” she said, watching as he stood and made his way to the door that would take him to the men’s shower, and leaving her with no clue as to what just happened, except for the fact that she’d lost and was going on a date for the first time in a very long time.

Monday

M
emphis was a bit early today. She’d come from work as usual. Everything was the same as it had been the other days she’d driven up, minus the kids and coaches and all those sounds. She parked in one of the spots behind his home and took the steps up leading to the back door. She knocked and waited, and a few minutes later he came into view.

Nice any day of the week was Z, she thought, watching him move towards the door. Simple in shorts and another Elite Football t-shirt, cap on his head, no glasses today. She let out the breath she’d been holding.

“Jones,” he said, pushing the door open wide, holding a bottle of water in his hand. “You ready to get started?”

“I am,” she said, looking around, not sure what they were doing. “I don’t mind if you call me Memphis, now that we’re done with camp.”

“Jones is what I’d prefer actually, and you can continue to call me Coach Z,” he said.

“Oh, okay then, Jones it is,” she said, moving on to the next question, fighting to not let her disappointment show. “Do you mind if I continue to change clothes here? It would be easier for me if I could,” she said.

“No problem,” he said, leaning into the door’s frame, crossing his arms at his chest, continuing to watch her, fighting against his desire to laugh out loud at Jones. Disappointment and irritation at his continued use of her last name were what he saw on her face. She wanted him to call her Memphis, which he understood but couldn’t do. Trouble lay in that direction. Nope, Memphis was warm smooth skin and late nights with nothing but time at his disposal, for things that had nothing to do at all with football. Plus her sister’s words were ringing in his ears; another reminder for caution and distance as he came to know her better. So, no, Jones it would be for the foreseeable future, and until he was sure of her, he would keep the two separate.

“Okay, so do you want me to meet you here or on the field everyday?” she asked, nervous now at the look he just gave her. If she hadn’t known better, she’d thought he was interested; there was a look in his eye for a second that wasn’t for Jones the trainee.

“Here is good,” he said, leaning against the door still, all casual and relaxed.

“Okay then… sure. I’ll go change and meet you back here,” she said, turning away, not really sure of anything at all now. Lunch spent with him on Saturday afternoon had felt like friends hanging out. And you thought what? she asked herself. You thought he was interested? And once more, no, he wasn’t. It was nothing but Coach Z from camp.

Z stepped away from the door; not very far, just out of view, in case she turned back to look. He didn’t want to be caught staring, ’cause staring is what he intended to do as she made her way over to the restroom to change. She’d come dressed from work, looking good enough to eat as usual in a charcoal-colored skirt, cream top with the top buttons open, and wow, she had an impressive chest pushed upwards, a thick belt around her waist, and those pumps on her feet, taking her safely away from him, and he was back in lust. He inhaled at the view of this woman that never got old for him, and no, she didn’t need to know that.

# # #

Ten minutes and she was back, exiting the restroom, and moving toward his home, her transformation into safe and looser clothing complete.

“I usually work pretty late in the studio, so I’m putting you in charge of setting up from now on,” he said when she reached his back door again.

“Okay,” she said, looking up at him from the bottom of his steps, hurt and unsure she was, he thought of her current expression.

“We’ll work pretty much like we did in camp. I expect you on the fields running your laps by six, which means you’ll need to give yourself enough time to get here, change, and get the equipment over to the field. The equipment is kept in the utility building, but you know that, right?” he said, walking down the steps and then past her.

“Yes,” she said, falling into step a little behind him, but working to catch up and keep up. He seemed to be in a hurry.

“This week and maybe for the next two weeks, we’ll be working mainly with the rope ladders. That’s all you need to bring out to the field,” he said over his shoulder. He’d gone back and done some research on the best way to approach her training, and had settled with working the ladders as a good starting point.

He held the door to the utility building open for her before following her inside and down the hall to the storage room.

“It will be your responsibility to bring these out each day, to lay them out on the field. You don’t need to wait for me to get started,” he said, looking down at the stack of ladders on the floor in front of him.

“I know, you told me,” she said and watched as his eyes darted to hers. “Have you changed your mind about training me, having second thoughts or something? You seem impatient to me. Do you want out of our agreement and can’t tell me?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“What’s up, Jones?” he asked.

“Well…You said friends, so I thought but you want to keep calling me Jones… and… well… Saturday at lunch… felt like we could be friends and now you seem different and… in a hurry or I don’t know…” she said, sounding whiny now. She stopped.

“All that to say what, Jones?”

“Nothing.”

“We can be friends, just not out here. Out here it is for training. If you’re going to play for the team, then you’ll have to respond to me as the coach. You might as well get used to that, right?”

“Right,” she said.

“I haven’t changed my mind about anything. I’d tell you first if I did.”

“Okay, then. I understand. You’re training me, blah, blah, blah. I got it.”

“Don’t get hostile, Jones. I just wanted to be clear,” he said, placing his water bottle on a nearby table.

“I’m so clear,” she said, and they both laughed.

“Good. Now hold out your arms,” he said, before picking up a ladder from the stack on the floor and placing it into her outstretched arms. “You’ll need about four of these.” He continued to stack them in her arms until she held four.

“Not too heavy?” he asked.

“No,” she said.

“Let’s go then,” he said, and he was out the door, and she was back to trailing behind him, out of the building and over to the field.

“You okay back there, Jones?” he said, glancing over his shoulder at her. She was struggling a little, he could tell, but it was what she’d have to do every day, alone. It was all part of the game and she might as well get used to it. It was even harder doing the season.

“Sure,” she said, feeling like they were back at camp, which she guessed she was, only it was her very own personal camp this time. She should be thankful, and she was, but also she was just a little irritated too.

He smiled. “Drop them on the ground. They won’t break,” he said, watching as she followed his instructions. “These snap into place to create a ladder as long as you need it to be,” he said picking up one from the ground, then spreading it out near his feet.

“Now, I’ll watch you finish setting up the rest, then give me two laps, followed by jumping jacks, stretching, and lunges, the same as during camp. Every day I’ll expect to find you here, six fifteen, ready to train. Fifteen minutes is more than enough time for the equipment set-up and your warm-up. Can you do that?” he asked, coming over to stand in front of her as she snapped ladders together.

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“We will spend the first few weeks of training working with your feet, working to reduce your falling.”

“My feet?” she said, looking down at them.

“Yes, your feet. Every day, the same drill, until I think you’re ready to move on. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“Is what a problem for me?”

“Doing what I ask for as long as I ask it,” he said.

“It depends on how you ask it,” she said, smiling. “No, just kidding. It won’t be a problem, sir,” she added, feeling a bit cheeky, along with a overwhelming desire to bother him. No reason she had to be the only one bothered today, she mused.

“Okay then. I’ll let you get your laps and the rest of the warm-up done. Fifteen minutes, and then I’ll meet you back here,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” she said again before heading to the track. She looked back over her shoulder and he was already walking away. Training on the field, friends off; she got it, again.

# # #

“This is simple, this exercise,” he said, looking at the ladders splayed out at her feet. She was back from her laps and all the other stuff she’d had to do to warm up, and listening intently to his instructions. “You might consider it basic even. I want you to walk forward to the end of the ladder and return, walking backwards on the return. Eventually it’ll be backpedaling, after we add speed, but for now it’s walking backwards at this pace. I want you to count as you walk, both forwards and backwards.

“I want you to focus solely on counting. One, two, three, four, one, two three, four; count as you take your steps all the way to the end, then it’s backwards back to the start, continuing to count. Up and back, again and then again.”

“That’s it?” she asked, staring into his eyes.

“That’s it. Now, count with me. This is your pace: one, two, three, four, one two three, four, one two three, four, one two three, four,” he said, his voice dropping off after a bit, just listening to her as she finished.

“Now, put it together with your feet,” he said, and watched as she moved away from him, walking and counting, eyes on her feet, making her way to the end of the ladders. “Now do it again, but backwards this time, and stop looking at your feet,” he said, watching as she made her way back to him.