Coming Together

Chap. 5

 Colby's POV

“Hey there Colby,” Coach Thompson said, opening his front door. “Where’s Aaron?”

“Probably on the way,” I answered, with a shrug.

Coach Thompson shook his head. “Come in.”

I went inside and followed Coach Thompson back to a back room.  It had a couple of chairs in it and a computer hooked up to a projector screen.

I heard the doorbell ring, undoubtedly Aaron.

“Help yourself to anything,” Coach Thompson said, before heading out to grab Aaron.

I opened the mini-refrigerator and grabbed a Gatorade, cracking it open and pouring half of it down my throat.

“Thirsty?” Coach Thompson joked, coming back into the room with Aaron in tow.

I shrugged, plopping down in a chair.

“That usually happens after you spend the night drinking,” Aaron mumbled, taking the seat next to me.

I ignored him, keeping my gaze focused on the projection screen.

“Alright, so we were all there Friday night,” Coach Thompson started. “Any comments?”

“Well we did score,” Aaron said. “It wasn’t an impressive score, but it’s the first time we’ve scored in over half of a season.”

“We got our asses kicked,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “Again.”

“But it wasn’t a shutout,” Aaron added.

“Well as long as it wasn’t a shutout,” I muttered sarcastically. “Shutout or not, we still can’t pull it together.”

“So what do you think the problem is Colby?” Coach Thompson said, interrupting what was sure to be a never-ending argument.

“Nobody gives a shit,” I said, looking over at Coach Thompson. “There’s just no drive to do anything.”

“I think the other problem is the lack of connection between the players,” Aaron added. “We’re just not really a team.”

“Both good observations,” Coach Thompson said. “Before we start the film here, I’m going to go ahead and let you boys know I already watched it.”

“Did you take notes?” I asked.

“I did. And I have a quick question for Aaron. Do you have some type of injury to your shoulder?”

I rolled my eyes, and Aaron’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Just a minor injury,” Aaron said, “why?”

“I’m going to point it out in the video,” Coach Thompson said, flipping off the lights, “but your throwing technique is compensating for a severe shoulder injury. So if that’s not the case, then we need to work on that at practice, and I think that’ll help with your accuracy.”

A smile spread across Aaron’s face, but I couldn’t figure out why. Coach Thompson had basically just told him his throwing technique sucked.

“Thanks Coach,” Aaron said, with a genuine smile.

Mr. fucking Perfect at his finest.

 ~*~

“Vote for Aaron,” a cheerleader said, handing me an individually packaged brownie.

I took the brownie, handing it off to some girl on my way to class.

“Thank you,” the girl said, with a genuine smile.