Page 7 of Brick Wall
“That’s between them, but I know for a fact that she would offer and gladly pay.”
He scoffs.
“Believe what you want, but in Goldie’s last relationship, they split everything 50/50 to the point it was absolutely ridiculous. He would send a pay request for $3.58 for a cup of coffee he bought her or would pay request her for her windshield wipers that he picked up for her. They split every dang thing, and she would send him the money every time without a single complaint.”
I’m sure Goldie would be mortified that I am sharing this with Bryce’s friend, but I am beyond reason right now. I’m clearly not thinking straight. I need to turn this around. “And don’t get me wrong, I’m perfectly fine splitting money with my partner, as is Goldie, but I’ve spent more on a random stranger than Goldie’s ex did on her. Everyone, at the very least, deserves a free drink.”
I absolutely hate guys that think all girls are gold diggers. It’s like they think they have a gold-encrusted penis or something. I mean, I might be interested in a gold penis, but for, like, curiosity’s sake. It’s obviously not a requirement or even awant, really.
At the end of the day, I just want to come home to someone who loves me as much as I love them. That’s it, but even that’s hard to find these days.
This guy can’t see anything else but himself and his misconceptions. There’s no reasoning with a guy like that. I can’t believe I ever had a crush on him. He may be a great right tackle on field, but off-field—oof.
I chug the last of my beer and slam my glass down on the bar top. “I now know why you’re known as the Brick Wall. You really are made out of bricks. You may want to switch from the offense line though, because you really excel at defense.”
“Look—”
“Nope, whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it. The last thing I want is to be rejected yet again by you. Have a nice night, Sebastian.”
I give a little flick of my hair, walk toward the exit, and disappear.
Chapter Three
Annie
“You’re overreaching!” I yell to my freshman player, Callie, as I move across the volleyball court to be beside her. “Your toss is too far forward and it’s impacting your serve. Don’t move so far into it.”
I demonstrate what I mean by tossing the volleyball up, keeping that ball right in front of my serving shoulder, before hitting the ball by muscle memory over the net.
“Focus on getting that ball in the right place. When you have a great toss, you usually have a great serve, and when—”
“When I have a bad toss,” Callie says with a little sass, cutting me off, “I have a bad serve.”
“Yes. Work on your toss. I know you feel that it’s easy stuff, but it’s important to go back to the basics sometimes.”
I’m the head volleyball coach at Chestnut Hill University, located right outside of Boston in Chestnut Hill.
It’s my second year as the head coach, and when I took over, the program needed a little work—okay, a lot of work.However, in my second year of coaching, we qualified for the NCAA Division 1 Women’s Volleyball Championship this past December. We lost in the first round, but it was the first time CHU had qualified for the tournament in years. I’m excited to see what the future brings.
It’s spring right now, with exams fast approaching. I’m working one-on-one in the small gym with Callie. She is a solid player, but her serve needs work, especially if she wants to be in the starting rotation next season.
However, I am a big sucker for players that seek me out for additional help. I love their commitment and dedication to the sport, and I can always be convinced to give more assistance when needed.
I look at my watch and notice the time. “Okay, why don’t we call it for now? There’s less than an hour before we need to be at the auditorium for the speaker series,”and you need to shower. I don’t end up saying that last bit to her directly, but I am thinking it.
Also, I need to head back to my office and give myself a mental pep talk before entering the auditorium. I am not excited for the last of the speaker series, although they saved the most impressive athlete for last.
The speaker series is an ongoing program where local athletes, coaches, professionals, and more give a lecture to students and staff about their experience in the real world outside the safety net of college. Many college professors and coaches require their students to attend, and I did mandate attendance at the one today.
Ironically, I was actually the person who pitched the idea to my boss. I knew of a local athlete who does amazing things in the community, although not personally at the time, andthought they would be an excellent addition to the series. My boss agreed, and they successfully booked them to be our last speaker for the academic year. It also helps that it was off-season for the athlete, and they run a successful nonprofit foundation that helps young people stick with sports, especially women.
That’s right, Sebastian Goodick of the Boston Revolutionaries is coming to give a speech in our biggest auditorium about the importance of leadership in sports, and I am the idiot responsible for this upcoming hour of torture. Had I known that Sebastian was a giant dick in real life, though, I probably would have refrained.
Thankfully, I pitched the idea and was not the one to organize this thing, so fingers crossed he won’t notice me in the auditorium of hundreds of student athletes and staff.
* * *
The auditorium is packed, not that I’m too surprised when athletes can easily sell out stadiums. Sebastian is a staple on the Revs and is well known in the community for his support and service.
