WE SHOULD STOP NOW

PART 13 - THE COACH

CALEB

"Caleb! Caleb Maverick get your arse up now son! What-are-you-doing!?" Says a gruff familiar voice that I can't quite place. I try to open my eyes, but they're so heavy from sleep my body just won't allow me to, so I start to drift back into unconsciousness.

I'm nearly back into a deep slumber when a sharp painful kick to my shin makes me suddenly bolt up and I look around confused. Fuck i'm cold. I rub my hands over my face to try and wake myself up when I notice that they're trembling. I slowly look around and see the face of my grumpy old football coach growling back at me.

"You could've froze out here you dumb shit. Follow me!" Coach Dean grumbles as he helps me to stand up and it's only then I realise that I'd fallen asleep in the bleachers and I've been here all night.

Now standing, I can feel that the cold has gone straight to my bones and I teeter on the steps about to fall before Coach pulls my arm over his shoulder and helps me back to ground level.

"Thanks," I mutter as I try to pull away but Coach keeps a firm grip of me and starts to walk me into the side of the building where his office is and I don't fight him as I can barely stand.

"Let's get something warm in you Maverick. Jesus son, you smell like a brewery," he berates as he helps me inside then sits me down in the chair opposite his desk before he leaves the room. I sit shaking uncontrollably for a few minutes just looking at my hands that are clawed up from the cold before a big winter coat is thrown around my shoulders and a hot mug of coffee is placed in my hands.

"Here, drink this," he growls and I shakily bring the mug to my lips before I wince slightly at the sweetness but revel at the warmth.

"Drink up, the sugar will help combat the cold." Coach grits out and I continue to drink down the hot sweet coffee whilst Coach takes a seat behind his old wooden desk and scowls at me.

"You're bloody lucky I've come in early before Sunday Practice starts." He grumbles watching me.

"What time is it?" My voice sounds hoarse from the cold, so I continue to take sips of my hot drink.

Coach looks at his wrist watch, "Seven, twenty. Practice starts at Eight. I don't need the boys seeing one of my finest ex players looking like he's just been thrown out of the drink tank so you'll need to be gone by then." He says firmly and I nod back to him.

I take a few more sips of the coffee before I bring the mug away from my lips and hold it in my hands to warm them up. The combination of the coffee and the coat soon helps to stop the shakes and I slowly feel the warmth start to slowly circulate through my body. Apart from the cracking hangover headache, I'm starting to feel better...except for the dull ache in my heart left by Joanie when she walked away last night.

"Thanks Coach," I say as I start to rise to my feet but Coach cuts me off.

"Sit down, sit down. We've time." He grumbles and I grin back to him as I sit back down.

Coach Dean has always been the same, on the outside he's got this gruff harsh exterior but really he's got a heart of gold, particularly for any of his players. Past or present it seems. Coach is a formidable man. He's about the same height as my big brother, around 6ft 3 or 6ft 4, so he dwarfs even me and I'm by no means short, his coat that i'm currently wearing fits me like a blanket it's so big. If there is one person in this world I'd never disrespect, it's the man sitting in front of me. Not just because of his huge build that could seriously do me some damage but simply because I respect him. He's one of the good guys.

"So, you're gonna tell me why you're getting drunk like some frat boy fool and falling asleep on school property Maverick?" He interrogates and I feel like I'm seventeen again, back in high school having one of his dressing downs.