“After graduation I worked in the corporate world for a while, but that turned out to be boring as sin,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye that made Lindsey sigh audibly. “So now I am the head cheerleading coach at Florida State. I love my job, but when Deirdre called me, I had to come up right away to help. You never turn down a request from Deirdre.”
“Deirdre?” Sage said. “What kind of parents saddle a girl with a name like Deirdre?”
Yeah. Like Sage was such a winner.
“Oops. Were you not supposed to know that?” Rincon said. “That’ll have to be our little secret.”
The girls all giggled at that, and Terrell scoffed. I had a feeling the guys were kind of threatened by Rincon.
Coach returned then, kicking the door open because her arms were wrapped around the props box—a cardboard box that was covered with blue and yellow paper megaphones. All the veterans perked up slightly and there was an excited murmur that made me cringe. I had no love for the props box myself, being that the last time I saw it, the thing had spurred a good couple weeks of personal misery. It had contained several suggestions from persons unknown (most likely Tara and Sage) that I dye my hair blonde for uniformity before nationals. Suggestions that had made me paranoid and irritable, which then made everyone around me annoyed. Good times.
Yeah, I hated the props box. Everyone else, however, worshipped the darn thing.
“Everything going okay?” she asked Rincon.
“We like each other already,” our new coach replied.
“Aw, Coach. Did you bring us a present?” Terrell asked, eyeing the box.
The boys all snickered. Everyone except for Steven, who had witnessed the last reading of the props box and seen me freak out. I squirmed. Sarcastic jokes were not the way to get on Coach Holmes’ good side. But she smiled at him, clearly deciding to let it slide.
“This, for those of you who don’t already know, is a props box,” Coach said, thrusting both hands at the box like she was a model at a car show, displaying the latest Fast-and-Furious-mobile. “Whenever you have a compliment for another member of the team, or a suggestion on how to make our squad even better, you write it down and put it in the box. Anonymously, of course. Halfway through the season we’ll open it up and see what everyone has to say.”
Terrell snorted a laugh. Every girl on the squad turned around to glare at him. Even the ones who had spent all of Friday night flirting with him. You did not mock the props box.
“What? It’s a joke, right?” he said, spreading his hands wide. Met with silence, he raised his eyebrows. “It’s not a joke?”
“No, Mr. Truluck. I’m afraid it’s not,” Coach said impatiently.
Terrell scoffed again. “What is this, a team or a Brownie troop?”
“I don’t do Brownie troops,” Joe said.
Oh, they were so very dead. Suddenly I saw antlers sprout out of Terrell’s and Joe’s heads as Coach chased after them sporting an orange hunter’s jacket and wielding a shotgun.
“Listen up, people. We take the props box seriously,” Coach said, hands on hips. “Basketball season is a long season with a lot of games and a lot of practices. Eventually the squad tends to get unmotivated and certain people slack off, leaving others to pick up the pieces. For the past few years, that has resulted in blowups and fights between squad mates. Well, this year, I’m hoping to nip that in the bud. Once we start to feel a little tension, we’ll open up the props box, read the contents and get psyched up again.”
“It’s very therapeutic,” Autumn said.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m always psyched,” Terrell said casually, leaning back on his elbows.
Daniel laughed and Steven and Joe hid their smiles behind their hands.
“Deirdre?” Sage said. “What kind of parents saddle a girl with a name like Deirdre?”
Yeah. Like Sage was such a winner.
“Oops. Were you not supposed to know that?” Rincon said. “That’ll have to be our little secret.”
The girls all giggled at that, and Terrell scoffed. I had a feeling the guys were kind of threatened by Rincon.
Coach returned then, kicking the door open because her arms were wrapped around the props box—a cardboard box that was covered with blue and yellow paper megaphones. All the veterans perked up slightly and there was an excited murmur that made me cringe. I had no love for the props box myself, being that the last time I saw it, the thing had spurred a good couple weeks of personal misery. It had contained several suggestions from persons unknown (most likely Tara and Sage) that I dye my hair blonde for uniformity before nationals. Suggestions that had made me paranoid and irritable, which then made everyone around me annoyed. Good times.
Yeah, I hated the props box. Everyone else, however, worshipped the darn thing.
“Everything going okay?” she asked Rincon.
“We like each other already,” our new coach replied.
“Aw, Coach. Did you bring us a present?” Terrell asked, eyeing the box.
The boys all snickered. Everyone except for Steven, who had witnessed the last reading of the props box and seen me freak out. I squirmed. Sarcastic jokes were not the way to get on Coach Holmes’ good side. But she smiled at him, clearly deciding to let it slide.
“This, for those of you who don’t already know, is a props box,” Coach said, thrusting both hands at the box like she was a model at a car show, displaying the latest Fast-and-Furious-mobile. “Whenever you have a compliment for another member of the team, or a suggestion on how to make our squad even better, you write it down and put it in the box. Anonymously, of course. Halfway through the season we’ll open it up and see what everyone has to say.”
Terrell snorted a laugh. Every girl on the squad turned around to glare at him. Even the ones who had spent all of Friday night flirting with him. You did not mock the props box.
“What? It’s a joke, right?” he said, spreading his hands wide. Met with silence, he raised his eyebrows. “It’s not a joke?”
“No, Mr. Truluck. I’m afraid it’s not,” Coach said impatiently.
Terrell scoffed again. “What is this, a team or a Brownie troop?”
“I don’t do Brownie troops,” Joe said.
Oh, they were so very dead. Suddenly I saw antlers sprout out of Terrell’s and Joe’s heads as Coach chased after them sporting an orange hunter’s jacket and wielding a shotgun.
“Listen up, people. We take the props box seriously,” Coach said, hands on hips. “Basketball season is a long season with a lot of games and a lot of practices. Eventually the squad tends to get unmotivated and certain people slack off, leaving others to pick up the pieces. For the past few years, that has resulted in blowups and fights between squad mates. Well, this year, I’m hoping to nip that in the bud. Once we start to feel a little tension, we’ll open up the props box, read the contents and get psyched up again.”
“It’s very therapeutic,” Autumn said.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m always psyched,” Terrell said casually, leaning back on his elbows.
Daniel laughed and Steven and Joe hid their smiles behind their hands.
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