The Racket Quotient

3 - The Coach

The rest of the week was probably the longest days of your life.

Everything seemed to slow down as thoughts of the upcoming Saturday consumed your mind. It took all the willpower you had, to not tell your friends about that interaction. There would be endless teasing and their suspicions about you having a crush on him would be confirmed. Not acceptable.

Finally. FINALLY it was Saturday. You began preparing an hour before leaving, determined to make the best impression. Your best sport shirt, the best racket, and a dash of your favorite scent—every detail meticulously chosen. Since you weren't old enough to drive, your dad agreed to drop you off at the badminton club when you told that you were meeting up with a friend who owns the training center.

You were dropped off by a long building with  entered the badminton club. As walk in, you see a sign pointing towards a glass door. On the opposite end there were many empty badminton courts. This wasn't a training center, this was a goddamn stadium. Just how rich were his parents? 

You enter and your eyes instantly find Trey, seated on the side with his phone in hand.

"Hi Trey." You call from across the court as he looks up and waves to you.

"Hi" a gentle smile gracing his face as he put his phone down. That's when you study him. He's wearing a dark blue sports shirt and Nike shorts. Even in your school's rather unflattering uniform, he managed to pull off an effortlessly attractive look. Sportswear, it seemed, only heightened his appeal.

"Isn't the coach here yet?" You look around. Trey had said to arrive at 4, but you arrived 10 minutes early. The coach must be on his way.

"Yep. Lets warm up then. Follow me." He replied. As he walks past, you get a gentle whiff of his perfume. Why does he have to smell so good?

As you walked to the other side of the court, he stopped you. "Stretch first." He showed you basic stretches and you copied his movements. You try trying not to get too distracted by the way his muscles flexed beneath the fabric. You had seen him in swim trunks during competitions but there was something so hot about him stretching fully clothed. 

You reminded yourself, you were here for badminton, not a personal flex show. Focus.

After the stretching routine, he suggested running 10 laps of the entire stadium. You stared at him in horror as the panic set in—fitness was not exactly your forte, you only wanted to pick up badminton because it was fun. There was no way you could do 10 laps without dying before you actually train. 

"Don't look at me like that; you have to go all in." He chuckled. God you loved that sound. "I'll go with you. We can go at your pace."

He started jogging slowly and waited for you to catch up. You picked up the pace and did 3 rounds before he said to slow down. You only did 5 and stopped because he could tell you were already exhausted. You were breathing so heavily just after a few hundred meters. You realized you had a lot of work to do. "Is this your version of warm-up," You asked between breaths. "you do this before every session?"

"My warm up?" He pointed towards himself. You nodded. "It is a teeny bit more challenging." He smiled teasingly as you tried to catch your breath. "Wow. You have horrible stamina, we gotta work on that." He grinned as you gave him a defeated look.

"Ok have a sip of water and then we can play a little."

You had a few sips of water from the water bottle in the mini sports bag you brought and went back to the court. You started the warm up and got used to moving on the court. You got immersed in playing because he was making you run a lot.

After 30 minutes of continuous playing, both of you sat down. You probably looked like a mess with so much sweat coating your skin and your hair everywhere because of running and continuously wiping sweat.

"When is the coach gonna be here?" You asked. The coach was almost 20 minutes late, in what you expected to be a 60 minute session. 

"He is here." He said getting up with his racket.

"Where?" You looked towards the entrance in case you missed the coach when they came in. Then back at him when you saw no one.

He smiled at you. "I am the coach."

"Huh?" You chuckled, thinking he was messing with you.

"I do teach students occasionally. My dad owns this stadium so I help with some of his students."

Oh. "I thought you were joking." You seemed a bit surprised. "Really?" He nodded.

"I like teaching. I use up my free time and it is like extra training." 

With that he walked back onto the court and started setting up cones. You just stood there, wide eyed. You went there thinking you would get a really strict coach with a lot of experience, but Trey decides to coach you. 

You were still busy trying to get over the shock when you heard him call your name. You jogged to where he was standing, next to the cones. "Let's start with the basics, okay?" You nodded.

You watched carefully as he demonstrated movement and how to hold the racket in different ways. You tried to copy his stance and movement and he corrected you where needed. His hand gently fixing the wrist position and turning your shoulders side ways. Your whole conscious fixated on the little point of contact. You felt so giddy and wanted to start jumping up and down.

When you were done freaking out, he made you practice basic shots and body positions for an entire hour. You were completely exhausted by the end of the session. Thankfully you brought a spare change of clothes and deodorant. He led you to the changing rooms and you came back refreshed.

Your muscles were starting to ache but it was worth it for the adrenaline rush and completely exhausting yourself.

You saw him waiting in a t-shirt and joggers by the vending machine and walked over to him.

"Was it fun?"

"It was tiring but it's weirdly fun to completely feel worn out."  

"I can relate. I remember my first lesson in year 5, my dad was my coach and he was so strict. I wanted to go home but at the end it felt like it was really worth it." 

You listened attentively, imagining a cute Trey from 5th grade playing badminton. You had been in the same school as him since forever but never really talked to him.

"There is a cafe here. We can rest for a while." 

"Okay, my dad is around 20 minutes away so I'd love to grab a snack."

Author's Note
This chapter was mainly to establish the settings and characters. The characters start to show a bit more personality in the next chapter :]

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