Chapter Two: Jordan
I stared at the Budweiser clock hanging over the bar. Inside its worn hands lay the last shreds of my sanity. When the big hand finally, miraculously, inched over seven, I squealed with joy. I untied the apron from my waist and flung it under the counter. “It’s quitting time for me, losers.”
Marcus and Anthony laughed while my boss, Manny, glared at me. “Whatever. You just behave yourself tonight, and you sure as hell better be on time and not hung-over tomorrow!”
I spun on my heels and blew Manny a kiss. “Night
” Boss Man.
“Smart ass,” he muttered under his breath.
I’d barely gotten out the door when a horn honked in the parking lot. My best friend, Tara, sat behind the wheel of a silver Mercedes bought with her Daddy’s guilt money while our other friend, Brandi, had claimed shotgun privileges.
“Hey bitches!” I exclaimed as I threw my stuff in the back.
“Hi slut. How were the sausages tonight?” Brandi asked with a grin.
I snorted. “Don’t ask.” Fiorenza’s might have been the best Italian restaurant in town, but they seemed to hire only perverted waiters who loved staring at my ass. “Gah working is such a drag. Not to mention, I’m never gonna get this linguini smell out without a shower.”
“Why don’t you drown yourself in body spray and see if it helps?”
“I seriously doubt it,” I grumbled.
I tore off my work shirt and tossed on the floorboard. The icy winter air stung my chest as I dug in my bag for my clean shirt. The car next to us began honking. I glanced over to see a carload of sophomore boys. Hanging out of the windows, they whistled and gestured towards me. “Yeah, baby! Take it off! Wanna party tonight?”
Without a second thought, I raised my hand up and flipped them off. They roared with laughter and then peeled off when the light turned green.
I pulled the shirt over my head and stretched it over last year’s Christmas present from my mom—my Double D implants. I nodded in satisfaction as the shirt fit me like a second skin. I caught Tara’s reflection in the mirror. “I’m so jealous. My parents said I couldn’t have implants until graduation.”
I snorted. “Yeah, well, if your mom was as flat as my mom used to be, she would probably give in quicker.”
“So who are you scamming on tonight?” Brandi asked.
“No one in particular. You?”
When Brandi didn’t respond, Tara sighed. “Give it up, Brandi. He has a girlfriend.”
I slid my Nikes off and glanced at the front seat. “Who has a girlfriend?”
Brandi pinched her lips together and stared out the window. “Hello?” I asked again as I unbuttoned my pants.
“Will Thompson,” Tara replied for Brandi.
I groaned. “Come on, not Thompson. He and Golden Goddess have been dating forever.”
“I hear she’s still a virgin,” Brandi countered, as if that one technicality meant Will was a stud in play.
Crumpling my khakis into the bag, I began wiggling my jeans over my hips. “It doesn’t matter if she’s a virgin or not. He’s crazy about her, and she’s obviously doing some kinda of action to keep him interested. Give it up and move on. There’s got to be somebody else there you’d like to date.”
“At least I wanna date high school guys,” she muttered under her breath.
I flung my head up, tossing my dark hair out of my face. “What did you say?”
Tara glanced from me to Brandi. Her expression silently pleaded for a change in the conversation. Brandi ignored her and turned in her seat to glare at me. “Don’t act all innocent, Jordan. I know you’ve got the hots for Coach T.”
I stiffened at the sound of his name. He was the unmentionable—the thoughts I acknowledged only to myself and once in a drunken sob story to Tara. By her wide eyes in the rear view mirror, I knew she hadn’t blabbed to Brandi.
I flicked my hair. “So what if I think he’s hot?”
Brandi shook his head. “He’s a married man, and he’s a teacher!”
Her eyes widened. “All you can say is so?”
“We’re seniors. I’m eighteen, and we’ll be graduating in five months. It’s not a big deal.”
“But he’s married.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s happy, or that he isn’t looking for someone to make him happy,” I retorted. I’d heard that line a million times from my mother. Most of the time, she was screaming it into the phone at a wife of one of the married men she slept with.
Snapping open my compact, I shot Brandi a look. “When you slept with your dad’s business partner over New Years, did I say anything?”
A strangled gasp escaped her lips. “I told you I was drunk!”
“Yeah, you told me that. But,” I emphasized, “how am I to know it’s the truth?”
When Brandi didn’t say anything, I smacked my lips, which shimmered with newly applied gloss. “So why don’t you mind your own business, and I’ll mind mine?”
She flounced back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. “Whatever.” Thankfully, we then pulled up at the school. “Nothing like making an entrance,” Tara giggled.
I peered at the clock. “Yeah, I guess the Varsity girls’ game is almost over.” At the mention of the girls’ game, my body tingled. He wouldn’t notice me as long as he coached. But as soon as the buzzer sounded, he’d be free.
We opened the doors, and silence echoed throughout the gym. I craned my neck to see Golden Goddess, aka Melanie Reeves, at the foul line. A quick peek at the scoreboard showed we were down by one point. If Miss Thing could make her two shots, then we’d win.
I’d known Melanie the last four years of high school. We weren’t exactly what you’d call “friends”. She had her A-Crowd Group while my friends and I were out on the fringes of the popular set. How she ever got Will Thompson I’ll never know. Brandi was warranted a good crush on him since he was a babe. But he was too goody-two shoes for me, just like Miss Thing.
My gaze flicked over to Coach T or Mark Thompson or my Mark. He knelt at the edge of the court, one hand over his heart. He flinched as the first shot banged against the rim before finally going in. “YES!” he shouted, pumping his fist and grinning at Melanie.
Motionless, I stood analyzing his every move. I tried to imagine what it would be like to be Melanie right now. To have that kind of pressure bearing down on you—it made me shudder. The crowd quieted down as Melanie bounced the ball twice before she aimed. It soared through the air and crisply swooshed through the net.
The crowd rose to their feet, and Coach T rushed the court. As he gathered Melanie into his arms and rained praise down on her, I’d never wanted to be someone else so much, especially not Melanie Reeves, the goody two-shoes everyone adored. A tingle rang through me as I remembered what those arms and hands felt like. Course, Miss Thing had never felt them quite like I had.
If you’d told me six months ago I’d be having an affair with a married teacher, especially Coach T, I would have said you were screwed up in the head. But that was before I was sentenced to a month of Saturday School detention torture with Coach T as the teacher. Yeah, nothing blows like school from eight to noon on one of your days off.
When no one showed up for the second session, Coach T and I spent four hours alone in the In School Suspension room. Instead of making me work on missing assignments, we just talked and laughed. The next Saturday, we passed notes while the others worked. And then after my last detention, he came to eat at Fiorenza’s. We had our first make-out session that day in one of the storage rooms. And then it wasn’t too long before we were sleeping together.
Tara nudged me. “Dude, Jo, you are so out of it tonight!”
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“I must’ve called your name like five times.” She pulled me along after I saw Coach T head for the locker-room. We bumped and jostled our way through the crowd. When someone touched my ass, I whirled around.
Andy Poletti grinned down at me. “Hey Jordan, looking good.”
“Touch my ass again, and I’ll kick you in the balls!” I growled.
“Ooh, that’s sounds hot.”
I rolled my eyes and started to walk off. “Come on. When are you gonna go out with me again?” he asked.
“But we had such a good time,” he replied, with a wink.
“Ugh, I’d hardly call ten minutes in the back of your car a good time.”
“You seemed to enjoy it then.”
“Fuck off, Andy.”
I stalked away and caught up with Tara. She threw me a questioning glance. “Don’t ask,” I snapped.
By the time we found a seat in the sea of people, the boys’ team was about to take the court. “Will you watch my purse for a second?” I asked.
“Where are you going?” Tara asked.
“I’ll be back,” I called over my shoulder. I headed the opposite way down the stairs to the girl’s locker-room. Coach T stood outside the door, reading his stat book with his assistant coach.
“Hey,” I said, with a grin.
“Hey yourself,” he replied.
“Yeah, Mel really pulled through for us, didn’t she?”
I nodded. “Those last two shots were tight.”
Coach T handed the stat book to Coach Rossen. “Thanks Dave. You can take this with you.”
“Sure. See you Monday.”
As soon as Coach Rossen walked off, Coach T’s demeanor changed. He gave me a wink before his eyes roamed over my body. “That was total bullshit you know.”
He grinned. “Saying you enjoyed the game. I’ll bet ten bucks you didn’t get here until the very end.”
I laughed. “Well, you know me too well, don’t you?”
He glanced around before he responded. “I’ve missed you,” he replied in a hoarse whisper.
My heart fluttered, and I wanted to gasp, “You have?”, but instead, I kept my cool. “Then you’ve been a naughty boy thinking about me.”
He leaned closer to me. “I can’t wait until Monday to be with you.”
I curled my lips into a seductive smile. “So what are you going to do about it?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Now?”
“Will is about to take the court.”
“You want me so bad then prove it to me,” I countered.
At that moment, Melanie and her basketball BFF Lauren Elrod, came out of the locker-room. I quickly changed gears.
“So are you really gonna dock me a whole letter grade for not dressing out? That’s so unfair. You’re supposed to be everyone’s favorite coach,” I whined for their benefit.
I shuddered with jealousy as Coach T grinned and winked at Melanie. When they were gone, he inched closer to me. “Meet me outside behind the old concession stand in five minutes.”
I waved bye to him and walked away. I backtracked around the court and went out the front doors. I glanced around. No one was paying any attention. It was dark as hell outside, and I could barely see in front of me. Stumbling, I made my way across campus to the run down area where the old football field had been.
When I turned the corner of the concession stand, Coach T grabbed me. I melted into him as his lips crushed against mine. I couldn’t see anything in the dark, but I didn’t need too. All I needed was the feel of his hands on me.
And I knew that was a certainty.
Cold air stung my bare stomach as he jerked my shirt out of my jeans. I sucked in a rasping breath before he replaced the iciness with his warm palms. They slid up my rib-cage to cup my breasts, kneading them roughly. I shivered with excitement as our tongues battled each other. Keeping one hand on my breast, he brought the other down to undo my jeans almost effortlessly. He thrust his hand inside to delve into my panties, seeking out my warmth.
“Jordan, I want you so much,” he breathed into my ear.
As his eager fingers slid inside me, I panted, “Can’t you see how much I want you?”
“Hmm, baby, you’re always so hot and wet for me. I could stay buried inside you all the time.”
Those words were all the encouragement I needed. My fingers tugged at the button on his pants. Once I had the zipper down, I shoved his underwear and pants down over his hips.
When he rammed me back against the metal wall of the concession stand, I cried out. The cold pierced my naked skin like a thousand knives.
His fingers stopped working their magic inside me. “What’s wrong?”
Now my teeth were chattering. “The w-wall is c-cold.”
“I know how to fix that,” he murmured, as he withdrew from me to dig a condom out of his wallet.
After he slid it on, he grabbed my bare ass and lifted me to wrap my legs around his waist. In one harsh thrust, he buried himself inside me, pounding me back against the icy wall. But I didn’t feel the cold. True to his word, Coach T fixed everything. His thrusts were rushed and frantic as I grinded myself against him.
All too quickly it was over, and I wanted to cry. The fact that I needed to be connected to him so much scared me. The one thing I wouldn’t admit to my friends, my mom, or anyone else was I was in love. I hated to admit it even to myself. Somewhere between the flirtation and the affair, I’d fallen for him. He was everything I could ever imagine wanting.
After he zipped up his pants, he kissed me one last time. “Monday as usual?”
“Yes,” I replied, breathlessly.
He peered around the side of the concession stand and then started jogging back across campus. I waited a good ten minutes before I started back to the gym. I skidded to a stop when I saw Tara standing outside the door. “Where were you?”
“Oh, Andy wanted to talk to me for a minute.”
She eyed me suspiciously, but she didn’t say anything. “Come on. The guy’s game is already in the second quarter.”
I smoothed my shirt and hair one last time and then followed her inside. My stomach churned when I saw Coach T with his wife. She sat on the bleacher above him, draping her arms over his neck. I argued against the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. After all, it was her hanging all over him, not the other way around. He didn’t really want her anymore—he just wanted me.
I turned my head and tried to focus on the game, but all I could do was think about him. When I kept grinning like an idiot about our quickie, Tara rolled her eyes.
“Did you go out to the parking lot and hook-up with Andy?”
“Ew, no! Why would you think that?”
“Cause you’re acting all sex glowy.”
I snorted. “I promise if I touched Andy, it would be to slap the shit out of him.”
Brandi was talking up some guy beside her, so Tara leaned over to me. “I saw you talking to Coach T.”
I stared straight ahead, not allowing my face to betray anything I was feeling. “Yeah, I ran into him on the way to the bathroom.”
“You didn’t go to the bathroom,” she argued softly.
“Why don’t you say what you want to or forget it?” I asked. My knuckles were white from twisting my purse strap over and over in my hands.
Tara hesitated, biting her lip. “Is there really something going on between you and Coach T?”
My heartbeat accelerated in my chest. “Jesus, no! Can’t I think a man is hot without it meaning something else?”
She shrugged. “You just seem really flirty with him.”
“I flirt with everyone,” I argued.
“I know,” she said. “But there’s something about the way you look at him. It’s different.”
“It’s nothing,” I emphasized.