The Reluctant Cougar (Rise of the Alpha King's Heir)

Hell

Ben woke up Monday morning with a cold bucket of water being thrown on him.

"Ah!" he screamed, thrashing out of his covers and jumping out of bed. "What the hell?!"

"That's Coach Hail to you," the large male holding the empty bucket growled. "It's Three fifty-nine. When were you planning to get up, Cougar?"

Around him the other guys groaned. Jessup said, "Shit, Cougar, I forgot they wake you up early your first day. Sorry."

"But did he have to wake us up too?" Archie groaned.

Somehow P.A. was still snoring.

"I'll be back for the rest of you piss ants soon enough," Coach Hail declared.

He tossed Ben something he quickly caught.

Shorts and a tank top.

"You've got two minutes," Coach Hail told him, turning with precision on his heel and walking out the door.

Archie and Jessup both cussed when it slammed shut.

Ben quickly changed and followed the man, trying to be mindful of the door and his still-sleeping roommates.

"Well aren't you so nice," Coach Hail barked. "Now drop and give me two-hundred."

"Yes, Coach," Ben said, automatically dropping into a plank position. Then he paused. "Two-hundred what, sir?"

"Do you have shit for brains, Cougar? Push-ups."

"Yes, Coach," Ben said, quickly finding his rhythm. "One, two, three, four..."

Ben had made it to one hundred fifty-three when Coach Hail shook his head, "No, no, something's wrong here--ah, your shoe's untied. Fix that."

"Yes, Coach," Ben said automatically, throwing himself upwards and kneeling so he could tie the lace properly. Then he dropped back into position, "One fifty-four, One fifty-f--"

"Oh, no, no," Coach Hail said with a smile. "You weren't in proper gear for the first few. Start over."

Anger slid through Ben, but years of Coach Stout helped him hold his tongue. He was being tested right now, judged, pushed, and probably hazed too.

"Yes, Coach," he said, letting emotion drain from his voice. "One, two, three...."

He was nearing one-hundred ninety when Coach said, "Cougar! Your arms are too far apart. Go again."

"Yes, Coach," Ben said through gritted teeth, adjusting his arms.

At one-hundred eighty, Coach Hail stopped him again. "Your back isn't straight enough. Go again."

Ben's back was so straight a marble could sit on it. He knew, because he'd had to do push-ups for three hours one day for Coach Stout, only allowed to stop when he'd done ten with the marble not rolling. Thereafter, marbles became part of the routine.

"Would you like to get a marble, sir?" Ben gritted, holding himself in a plank.

Coach Hail's eyes glittered, "You can stand now."

Ben did so, watching his new coach warily.

"I needed to see your limit. You don't balk at logical orders only illogical ones. That's very good, son."

Ben blinked. Had the man just praised him?

"Now, start running. I've read your file and talked to Coach Stout. I'm betting we can make you zone by the time you're in your third year."