The Game

Chapter 4

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the sprawling rugby pitch. Laughter and shouts of excitement filled the air as children darted back and forth, a whirlwind of energy. Mia adjusted her whistle, scanning the field with a mixture of determination and annoyance on her face.

"Alright, team! Let's gather around!" she called.Then she looked over at me, and my breath caught as we made eye contact. She looked away immediately. I leaning against the fence, arms crossed, a smug grin plastered on my face. I was trying to seem utterly unbothered by the chaos around me, but in reality, all the shouting was giving me a headache.

"Hey, Coach Mia!" shouted one of the kids, a short boy named Jamie, as he waved her over. "Can we play a game where you and Coach Oliver have to work together?"

I saw the irritation flood Mia's face. The last thing she wanted was to be paired with me, I knew. "How about we stick to the drills, Jamie?" I replied, but I didn't even have to force a smile.

"Aw, come on! It would be fun!" another child, Emily, piped up, echoing Jamie's enthusiasm. The chorus of approval from the other kids made my heart soar.

Yes. I wanted this, and I wasn't going to lose this opportunity.

I pushed off the fence, a gleam in my eye. "I think it's a great idea! What do you say, Mia? Just for today?"

"Fun isn't really what we're here for, Oliver," she shot back, crossing her arms in defiance. "We're coaches, not entertainers."

"Sure, but entertaining is half the battle, right?" I countered, my voice smooth.

It's safe to say that we are ended up playing the game.

***

How did this even happen?

After the game of rybičky rybičky was over, we found out that none of the kids knew how to tackle people. Not one. Least of all Jamie and Emily, who simply could not seem to get tackling right for the life of them.

They insisted that me and Oliver show them how to tackle.

As I was walking to the middle of the pitch, I saw Jamie and Emily smiling at each other, wide and bright.

Hmmm. Suspicious.

I was standing in front of all the kids, about to start explaining the maneuver, when out of nowhere, Oliver tackled me.

What the fuck.

Now I'm lying on the ground with Oliver fucking Harrison on top of me, freaking out, because I could feel everything, including his muscles, and his smooth, tanned skin, and his dark curls ticking my forehead. His breath ghosted over my skin, leaving goosebumps behind, and every thought left my head. And holy fuck holy fuck OLIVER FUCKING HARRISON IS ON TOP OF ME AND I LIKE IT.

No- shut up stupid brain. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP. No more 'Oliver' thoughts.

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks.

I shivered, then shoved him off me.

"What the HELL?" I yelled at him.

"I just thought showing the kids in practice would help them learn better; I mean, just teaching them theory isn't enough." And then he shrugged. The motherfucker shrugged.

I didn't say another word.

I just turned around and walked into the locker rooms. He could the children on their own for today.