Entering the weight room, I found Coach Berns spotting a varsity athlete on the bench press. The assistant coach was in his early fifties and, similar to the head coach Kelvin, had a bit of a short fuse. His crew cut hair and toned physique were remnants of his service in the military. The man was shorter than most of the athletes on the wrestling team but, with my head on Mary's unimposing body, he loomed over me as I approached him.
"Eight... Nine.. COME ON Gomez! Ten!" He screamed, guiding the barbell into the slots above Luis Gomez, one of our team's strongest and highest-weight-class players. The metal bar made a thunderous clanking sound when it locked into the rack. Luis sat up, exhaled deeply, and wiped his head with a nearby towel.
"You wanted to see me, Coach?" I asked, standing aside awkwardly while the coach dismissed Luis and turned to face me.
"Yeah, what the hell is the matter with you Long?" He barked. "Why have you been skipping practice for the past month?"
"Well, I --- I uh -- I'm pregnant and -- "
"And what? Why in Jesus' name would that stop you from coming here? Your arms worked up until a month ago when you made every practice. They still do, don't they?"
"Yes sir."
"Look at those arms. Flabby pieces of limp noodle! Pathetic, Long! That's what happens when you don't lift for a month! Let that be a lesson."
The fact that Coach Berns thought this was normal was actually quite amusing. Sometimes it was hard to take him seriously when his greatest aspirations -- to become head coach of a high school sports team -- had been frustrated by the appointment of Coach Kelvin, a man 20 years his junior and better qualified anyways.
"Sir! I'll get started as soon as the pregnancy ends!"
"To hell with that, Long! Get your ass over on that elliptical machine! Or do some arm curls. Just be a little less useless to me! Is that understood?"
"Yes sir!"
Coach Berns stalked over to Luis again, preparing for the next set, while I retreated away into the locker rooms. As much as I wanted to lift again and gain a sense of normalcy among my teammates, this was not the best time to do so. Even though it wasn't my body, the lives growing inside of it were very real and delicate. I didn't care too much about the babies, but I wasn't going to do something deliberately dangerous to their health (or mine). So I sat down in the locker room and waited for the first match to begin.
With five minutes to go, our team made its way into the gym. We took our seats in the first two rows closest to the mats, Branden sitting next to Luis and Jim while I sat behind them. Coach Berns strode out to the gaggle of referees and shook their hands, his demeanor light and humble in contrast to his drill-sergeant-like attitude in the weight room. He took a seat next to Coach Kelvin, who sat at the end of the row.
The head referee blew his whistle and readied the match clock. By now, the crowd had filled up most of the bleachers in a turnout much higher than I expected. Some girls designed posters cheering on their boyfriends or crushes; there were quite a few posters extolling Jim "The Pin" Evans. Most of the other attendees were parents of the athletes involved, with an appreciable contingent coming from Ironrock High School, their grey singlets and clothing contrasting with our own red ones.
"Come on kid! Get out of there!"
"You can do it!"
"Let's go Erickson!"
"Go for the fall!"
"Woooooooo!"
Cheers and applause erupted from the audience as our first matchup, Ryan Erickson, won by major decision. Four points tallied next to our school's name on the electronic scoreboard in the gym. It was a promising start but we knew better than to rest on our laurels and allow Ironrock to make those points up in the next match. Branden Green took his place on the mat for the third match, and his opponent was one of the oldest members of their team. It was a tough match going all three periods plus overtime, but at the end Branden's opponent barely won. Three points were added to Ironrock's score.
A few more matches went by which were evenly split among both teams. Jim's match was the shortest, as he actually pinned his opponent within the first 30 seconds of his match. The audience burst in cheers as six points were added to our score.
As Luis was about to begin his match, I felt the need to use the restroom. Ducking out as discreetly as I could, I relieved myself and returned to the action. But by then, Luis' match was over. The look of triumph on his face being all I needed to know about the result of the match.
The last few players completed their matches after Luis, and after 2 hours the meet was finished. Our school won the practice competition! Legging out our sworn rivals by a comfortable margin of 12 points. We went over to shake our opponents' hands and then briefly celebrated in the locker room.
"Nicely done, gentlemen." Proudly said Coach Kelvin. "You really took it to those bastards today. Erickson -- nice technique. Ross -- steady your lower body next time and protect your legs. Evans -- well done as usual. Your chokehold sealed the victory. And Long -- continue to train and keep fit. We'll be looking forward to your return in the fall. You aren't required to come to practice but I recommend it."
Coach Berns was about to raise his opinion, when Kelvin shut him down. "That's all we have to say for today. Good job all around, now go get some rest and come back on Monday for practice."
My teammates and I changed out of our uniforms and into our street clothes once again. Stuffing my unused singlet and headgear into my bag, I slung it around my shoulder and walked out with Branden back to his truck.
"I know this was just a practice, but damn! If that's all Ironrock has to offer, we'll clean up divisionals this year." Branden pumped his fist into the air. Disappointed a little by his losing match but happy that the team as a whole won.
"The year looks promising." I agreed.
"And we'll be even better when you come back, Mike."
"Yeah, haha..." I sighed, again tossing my bags into the backseat of Branden's truck.
"Did you see the way Ashley was staring at you throughout the match?" He asked me on the way home.
I frowned. "Ashley who? Seaver?"
"The one and only." Affirmed Branden, referring to an attractive and moderately popular girl in school. Not as hot and popular as Sarah Tatum, but few girls were. "She was checking you out more than a used library book, dude."
"Really?" I cocked my eyebrow, wondering how any girl would find me worth 'checking out' now.
"Absolutely. I was trying to direct your attention toward her, but you were too focused on the match. It's no small secret Ashley loves guys with big boobs." He mentioned, grinning mirthfully.
I relieved an itch on my breasts and laughed. "So big boobs turns girls on now?"
"Dude, when have they not? I know you still think that's Mary's body you've got, but it wouldn't make sense. Don't you understand? Why would Ashley be attracted to a woman's boobs?"
"I dunno, maybe she's secretly a lesbian or something." I smirked.
"Naw, I'd bet 50 dollars against it. Remember she hooked up with Alex last school year and they broke up?" Recalled Branden. "She's single, she thinks you're hot. You're single. I'm not trying to play matchmaker here, but do the math bro!"
"Yeah, maybe I'll seek her out the next time we meet. You know, get to know how she really feels. You're not joking or setting me up for ridicule, are you?" I asked.
He patted the steering wheel and said hastily, "Nuh-uh! Why would I lie to you, Mike? I know a thing or two about attraction, and when girls give you that look. I know."
We chatted and laughed about other stuff for the rest of the ride home.
It almost made me feel normal again.
Where will this story go next?
