Page 4 of Merry Mischief List

I look just in time to catch a football torpedoing towards my face. Gripping the ball tightly, I lower it to my side while looking for the player who threw it.

“Caruso!” I shout at my starting quarterback and team captain, Noah Caruso.

“Yes, Coach,” Noah says, taking off his helmet and joining me on the sideline. “Sorry, sir.”

“What the hell is going on out there?” I ask, throwing an arm out towards the field.

“Honestly…” He shakes his head. “I think everyone’s a bit antsy about break. I know it’s not an excuse but—”

I lift a hand, cutting him off, and blow my whistle. “Huddle up,” I shout, and the whole team gathers around me. They’re dripping in sweat, huffing like hippos, and seem completely worn out.

Have I been pushing them too hard?

This is the second week in a row of our two-a-day practices…

“I know you’re all itching to get out of here and head home for the holidays,” I say loud enough for them all to hear. “But I’m not letting you walk off this field today looking like the fucking Pee Wee football team. You’re better than this. We haven’t gotten so far this season by acting like a bunch of toddlers in grown men’s bodies, now have we?” No one replies. “I said, have we?”

“No, Coach,” they say in unison.

“So shake off whatever bullshit is keeping you from playing like the seasoned athletes I know you are.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Noah, you’re gonna sit a few out. Anderson, you’re up.”

“Yes, Coach,” Elijah Anderson, our backup quarterback, says eagerly.

“Now go out there and show me you deserve to win this damn Desert Bowl!”

“Yes, Coach!” the team shouts.

“Okay, bring it in,” I say, putting my hand in the middle, and they follow suit.

“Stingrays on three,” Noah shouts. “One, two—”

“Stingrays!”

The guys run back out, setting up on the line of scrimmage, and the ball is hiked to Anderson. He’s protected by the offensive linemen, and within seconds, the ball is spiraling downfield towards running back Theo Schroeder. He catches the ball, leaves the defenders in the dust, and scores a touchdown.

“Thank you!” I shout while jogging down the sidelines towards them. “That’s what I want. Now do it again! And any defenseman that lets Theo get away from them will be doing suicides for the last ten minutes of practice.”

3

ANDI

“Sorry again,” Theo says as we wait anxiously in line at Tampa airport security. He and Stella are about thirty minutes away from missing their flight but luckily, mine boards a bit later. “I swear I wanted to leave earlier, but Coach Porter was riding us harder than Santa rides his sleigh.”

“Why must someone so hot be such a hardass?” Stella says as we finally arrive at the front of the line and place our stuff on the conveyor belt. “Such a disappointment.”

“Yeah, he totally killed my pre-holiday buzz,” Theo says before passing through the metal detector.

“Pretty sure your pre-holiday buzz will be firmly fixed by the time you land,” I say, passing through after him.

“Yeah,” Stella chimes in, joining us to wait for our bags. “Thanks to Daddy Schroeder, we’ll be drinking expensive champagne all the way to Denver.”

“Please stop referring to my father that way,” Theo groans.

“Well, onceyoustart paying for our upgrades instead ofDaddySchroeder, I will.” Stella winks. They’ve been casually sleeping together since last year, and Theo’s dick seems to be the gift that keeps on giving.

“Next year, I’m coming with you guys,” I say, fully aware my parents would never let me live it down if I missed Christmas for a ski trip.

“The more the merrier,” Theo says, pulling me in and kissing my cheek.

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