COMPLETED
Penn State University.
Home to the craziest sorority girls, most obnoxious football players, and a girl who never wanted to be there in the first place.
Ellie Webber hates Penn State. But she is only there because her twin brother is the...
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Reese Joseph
I felt as if a fucking boulder had landed on me.
The past twenty-four hours had handed me my ass quicker than anything ever had.
"You feel that? Do you feel like you can't breathe? Do you feel like you can't feel anymore? Does it hurt?" We all moaned as the sweat rolled off of all of our bodies. "It fucking sucks doesn't it?" Coach Webber yelled, his spit flying everywhere as he paraded around us in the circle.
"Marty– how many laps did they run today?" Webber barked out his question to another coaching staff member.
"Twenty in sprints so in total five miles sir non-stop." The number did feel real, but the toll on my legs was tremendous. Twenty laps. Five miles in sprints. "How man stairs did they climb?" I was going to hurl.
"The offense and defense split. They both did twenty up and down sir," Coach Webber's obnoxious chewing sounds were heard in my ears as he walked around me. My head was hung low as I didn't even want to look at him this week.
Ohio State week.
Also known as– if we got our asses handed to us, then my head would be on a platter week.
"Listen up," I slowly raised my head as I looked over at Penn and Mitchell who were not even looking at me like the little douchebags they were. Stupid, fucking sophomores. They were in a deep conversation with each other– one that Mitch looked like he was winning.
"It's Monday. It's the start of a new week. It's also the start of Ohio State week– this is the biggest game of the year," Don't remind me, coach.
"The only time I had lost this game was the year that Williams had gotten drafted. If you guys lose this weekend I just need you all to know that I will not be mad." Thank god.
I heard sighs of relief all around the locker room as coach walked up and down the small walkway. His black shoes, his Penn State shirt, his shorts– the iconic clipboard that he would always smash over his knee if he was pissed off.
"I won't be mad– I'll be furious if we lose this week," There is was.
My heart started to beat erratically as the pressure started to build on my body for the need to perform well this weekend. I had no room for mistakes or errors. I needed to be the best that I could be.
