Late Ch. 06

She waved a hand at him in theatrical fashion.

"Oh COME ON, you're not a wheel... you're irreplaceable, like a part of the engine, the gizmojabsit or something.... And we were in the good bit of the relationship, don't tell me you weren't focused on your Janey when she was giving you that D!"

He glowered, something in his temple throbbing as he flashed a glance behind him to check no-one had heard.

"Will you STOP SAYING that?!"

"WHAT? It's a fact!"

"Well it's not funny, so just cut it out... I still answered texts and stuff whilst I was with her!"

Terry's smile was mischievous.

"Maybe she didn't give you enough D."

Fred's temple throbbed harder.

"You know what? I'll GO and ask her about the softball, but that's it... then I'm moving to freakin' KANSAS or something...so I'm not... not used by you assholes..."

Terry raised an eyebrow as he threw a ragged-looking twenty dollar bill on the table.

"Fred, come on...."

He got up and stormed past a waiter who barely managed to hold onto the glasses he was carrying.

"WATCH it dude!"

People stared after him as the young figure running through the swinging front doors.

She looked on with a soft expression.

"Fred....?"

He didn't look back.

***

A few days later....

"WOAH Coach, what happened?!?"

Charlene's mouth was open in shock, eyes drawn straight first to the left arm enclosed in a white sling and then to the small cuts across Coach Matherson's face.

Zoey gasped, and more began to gather around.

"Are you okay?"

"Goodness Coach!"

"Minor accident... nothing serious," she responded, wishing the inside of the cast wouldn't itch so much as more confused faces turned to see what the commotion was.

"Oh Coach!!"

"Hey, is Coach alright?"

"Like I said, it's MINOR... I was jogging and a car clipped me... my fault.... now can we all GATHER IN PLEASE!"

She winced as a little pain flared from her elbow to her wrist.

Dean's eyes seemed to go round like silver coins.

"Oh Jane... it appears you're injured... Look if you want to sit this one out, I'll be more than happy to-."

"NO, I'm perfectly capable..." she said quickly.

He pouted, stepping closer.

"But giving everyone less than one hundred percent might not be fair when they require rugged, full-on coaching!"

"I'll manage," she responded, trying to clench her jaw with the same intensity she usually managed. "EVERYONE IN."

The team complied although all eyes lasered on the injury.

'Best nip this in the bud early.'

"Everybody, I just wanted to make it clear before the warm-up for those of you who have just got here that I am FINE...... Just know that you're lucky I won't be pitching fastballs anytime soon."

There was a titter that spread through the crowd.

"Now, important news.... Recently I have decided... exacerbated by current circumstances...

Bob chimed in.

"Oh, what happened to your arm!"

"I'M FINE!" She snapped, and Bob recoiled.

"S.. sorry, Bob.." she muttered after, "Just.... A-as I was saying.... I think I will be in need of an assistant coach for the short term...."

Worried faces began to appear in the group as she glanced at Dean, taking a certain satisfaction at his smile lessening at the words 'short-term',

"So... as my assistant coach.."

The group bristled.

"....I will be appointing....."

"Don't, you freakin' say it," hissed Terry.

Jane looked at her in surprise, before composing herself.

"....Dean."

The looks of shock on everyone's face would have almost been funny if they hadn't been mixed with intense disappointment. Kevin looked like he had something stuck in his throat, and Bob seemed to want to disappear inside his own head, mouth agape.

Stares lasered the man who was beaming, possessing a smile so pompous that it inspired revulsion in all who witnessed it.

"I am honoured!" said Dean, thumbs upping Jane and the team as he stepped forwards. "I will make sure to do my due diligence and approach the task as efficiently as possible!..."

Jane nodded quickly, cutting off the speech.

"Right... now, l-"

Dean raised his voice.

"..AND OF COURSE I will do my best to work alongside Jane here..."

Her lip curled.

... As well as I possibly can!"

"My name to you is still Coach... Assistant."

Murmurs spread through the group as Dean's sunny smile lost some of its lustre.

"Now warm-up the team."

The briefly mirthful expressions in front of her turned to glowers as Dean pompously clicked his fingers and began to jog, not waiting for them to prepare themselves.

"Fuckin' a-hole," muttered Terry as she began to follow, loud enough that Dean's expression darkened.

"Let's all focus please! Terry take an extra lap."

She huffed and took off, apparently keen on working off some of her aggression.

He led them in a medium-paced jog for two laps, doing odd arm movements that Jane was unsure would achieve anything. It didn't matter, as long as they got warmed up in some fashion.

When they were back, everyone seemed strangely docile.

Jane glanced at the gate before beginning, a flash of milky white skin that she could only see in her head refusing to turn into reality.

"This week.... we're going to work on your opening batting stance."

"Exactly, stance is key!"

"Thank you Dean but please wait a moment."

"Ah of course."

"So, the first lesson is to have your feet as wide as comfortable, both feet facing the plate"

"Also always keep your elbows bent!"

"ONE MOMENT please Dean... as I was saying you hold the bat like this... in fact Bob if you could come to demonstrate for me...."

An inch before he was on the batting plate, a hand clapped on his shoulder.

He looked back into the face of his personal demon.

"Perhaps I should step in..."

Jane felt like she was suffering from a sudden onslaught of constipation as Dean stepped past Bob with his bat raised in an overly exaggerated stance.

"...Right."

She waited for him to move as Bob traipsed back into line, then realized Dean was not planning to transition into a more workable stance.

"Right, well... first of all we can already make a few improvements to this.. we'll need to get a little more relaxed, feet a little wider."

Dean's finger pointed to the air.

"But also we can stay high for mobility."

"For..... Dean I think in the majority of cases it is more useful to be in a more athletic open stance as it allows for a lower centre of gravity, so if you wouldn't mind getting a little lower.... Lower than that... Excuse me.."

She pushed down on one shoulder until Dean actually began to bend his knees slightly, going into a begrudging pose with his feet barely shoulder-width apart which Jane decided would have to do if they wanted to actually move onwards, her other arm aching.

"Secondly... hn.... we will make sure that the front elbow is face towards the ball...."

Dean's voice was loud as he cut across her.

"Oh you seem to be in some pain, are you sure you're well!?"

"I'm FINE!"

"Right, It just seems like you're in some difficulty.... Also you forgot to tell them about the correct grip."

".... What Grip?"

"The keystone grip."

"I... I'm sorry, I have never heard of a keystone grip... but personally I think a grip should be as comfortable as possible, door-knock knuckles lined up..."

"Maybe for amateurs..."

Jane ground her teeth.

"You know what? Let's just run a drill and we can fix as we go."

She turned her back on Dean who let out a huff as she glanced at the gate again, her arm not the only thing aching as she clutched her chest for a moment.

The feeling of his sweet cheeks clutching her rod as it spurted cum over his insides hit her in a split-second.

"...E...EVERYONE UP, we're going to split into two lines, me and Dean will throw balls to the front of the line, each batter will..... will attempt to hit the targets we have placed in the outfield starting with the left, and then go to the back of the line. Left target first, right target second. Clear?"

Everyone nodded their heads, and then they were jogging into lines as Jane imagined him snug to her body, like a jigsaw piece perfectly sandwiched against her. Something in her pants began to inflate, and she had to dig her fingernails into her palm to stop it happening.

When she resurfaced, it was to the sight of Bob being ushered away from her line by a smug-looking Dean. He gestured to Charlene who moved further away, firmly planting herself in Jane's line.

Jane growled, flexing her muscles, and immediately pain flared once more in her left arm.

"HHnnnn...."

As she wiped a dab of sweat from her brow she noticed her line was significantly longer than his.

"Ah, could a... few at the back of my line switch to Dean's please."

Terry and Kevin huffed and trudged across like they were being asked to volunteer as tribute.

'Still uneven, but only by a few people. Whatever.'

She glanced at the gate again, more in habit than with hope, before continuing.

"So ah.... Yes, let's start!"

She drew back and threw a mid-pace ball to Mo who blasted one into the target to the left.

Only a tiny bit of pain in her arm from the body-movement. Workable.

"Great strike, don't roll your wrists too much, allow your body to provide the main power."

He ran to the back, and then Stacey came to the front, her lips thin, a little unsurely raising her bat.

Jane's frown deepened, and she curved back and launched a harder ball than the last, which Stacey gamely tried to connect with, missing the ball completely.

Stacey was usually quite reliable.

The woman looked rather forlorn in that moment.

"It's alright, next one, eyes on the ball!"

"And the seams!" added Dean, making Jane grunt.

"Idiot," she muttered.

The next ball was softer, and Stacey managed to get it to within a few metres of the target.

"Better!"

She traipsed to the back of the line.

Jane glanced over to see Dean busy pulling Bob's bat upwards into what looked like an uncomfortable attempt to diminish the boy's height.

"Dean, can we move along please?" she called.

Dean turned and begrudgingly nodded, trundling to the pitcher position before whirling and throwing a ball with all his might at Bob. The ball was slightly wide, and Bob gamely got himself into as good a stance as he could in the split second he was able, but still hitting clean air.

*SWOOSH*

"HOAH, come on Bob, that's terrible! This was exactly why you didn't make it to first base in the last match, what did I tell you about watching the seam..."

"B-but I wasn't ready.."

"You should ALWAYS be ready!! I think we'd better try that again so everyone can see the problem here!"

Bob's lower lip wobbled, and Jane watched the boy raise his bat out of the corner of his eye whilst she distractedly threw to her own line. Bob already looked defeated.

She called over.

"Slightly lower in stance Bob, aim for smoothness, not power!"

His chin raised, and he crouched a little.

Dean narrowed his eyes in her direction, and then once again release a ball quickly, intent on catching his opponent unaware.

Bob was ready this time, and managed to connect a semi-decent swing which popped away, not particularly close to the target, but certainly a hell of a lot better than hitting clean air.

"That's at least first base!" called Jane.

"Nowhere near the target, shoddy!" shouted Dean, motioning with his arm for Bob to go to the back of the line.

Bob looked downcast once again.

"Fuck," murmured Jane, before sending a vicious ball at Charlene who missed it entirely as it whizzed past her nose.

"OOOH!"

Jane put her hand up, wincing as the previous motion had caused pain to shoot up her left side.

"Oh, sorry Charlene!.... Sorry..."

The woman looked a little shaken, readying her bat for the next hit.

Jane gave her an easy take, and Charlene knocked it onto the target.

"Great hit! Sorry about that.... Good stance all round, don't be afraid to put even more body into that swing."

The woman seemed quite relieved, almost smiling as she bustled to the back of the queue.

"Come on Jane," she muttered, "Get it together."

As they continued and some semblance of normality took hold, the breeze became stronger, sun drifting lower, shadows beginning to crawl towards her as she rubbed her stomach.

With all that had taken place so far it felt like the practice session was more stressful than she needed it to be, her toe deciding at that moment to casually remind her that it too, hurt.

"Mmnn!"

Jane fire another ball at Zoey who slammed it home, then glanced over to see Kevin taking position in front of Dean, rolling the bat steadily between his fingers.

He looked like a member of a firing squad, about to execute a deserter.

Dean clearly sensed the hostility and jostled for a moment on the pitcher's spot, before throwing a weak ball that barely made it the ten metres or so distance between them.

Kevin's nostrils flared as he lined up and powered the ball with every last taut muscle in his body, sending the heavy object back where it had come from with venom.

"GLUH!"

Gasps came from the line as Dean doubled over, the ball having connected directly with his stomach, and he collapsed to the floor.

There were titters and gasps from the team, and a tiny smirk of satisfaction came to Kevin's lips. Jane glared at him until she caught his eye. As soon as he realised she was looking, his gaze dropped to the floor, stalking to the back of the line.

The lines of people shuffled, everyone unsure how to proceed as she marched over to check Dean was alright, slapping away a hand which reached out to stop her looking.

"Hang on, let me check it."

"M'fine," he winced.

She pulled his shirt up a bit and saw what looked like a nasty bruise. Nothing serious.

Lucky. He got hit hard enough to break a rib.

"Let's take five people, Charlene please take Dean to have that checked at the sports centre."

Everyone walked away as she watched Kevin marching away, Terry racing after him.

Her brow furrowed.

She'd never seen Kevin possessing a mean streak before.

Jane considered going to talk to him and Bob after the game as she usually would, but then glanced at the gate again. Her stomach knotted.

On second thoughts, she wasn't really up for those sorts of talks right now.

***

Dean caught her as they were finishing up with a minor game between them, a quickfire version of the game that involved teams swapping once everyone had got a hit.

"So... how is Freddie?" he muttered.

Her heart ached, jaw tightening.

She had never wanted to turn and run from a conversation more than this one.

"I don't know."

"You don't know? Well, that's great, back on the market then!"

"...."

"What did you see in Freddie in the first place? Honestly I wish I know.."

She trembled.

'Optimism.... Affection...A competitive streak...Softness...'

Not to mention that ass.

Warmth began to flow to her chest and groin, but guilt and shame drew it away again, leaving a cold emptiness.

"It's... nothing.... I have to go pick up equipment."

"Look, you're hurt, let me help..."

"Well if you want to do it then fine!" she snapped.

He gazed at her quizzically.

"I mean I can of course!"

She grunted.

Dean lightened his tone, lowering his voice.

"Jane... are you sure you're in the right frame of mind to be making decisions?"

"It's Coach.."

"Yes, yes Coach... but... I mean you're clearly in pain.."

She closed her lips and watched Terry jogging around to third base, looking disgruntled, Bob stood in the outfield, barely watching the game, lost in his own thoughts.

"... and seeing as you're not in full shape, maybe they need someone who can steady the ship for the short term?"

Jane rolled her tongue in her mouth.

She had been distracted, it was true.

Another glance at the gates.

Her arm ached.

"Mnn.."

If she wasn't willing to have those conversations with her team... If she couldn't demonstrate to them... if she wasn't focusing...

Her arm throbbed again, as if confirming her fears.

"... Two weeks," she said in a resigned voice.

"Huh?"

"I'll... take two weeks off."

Dean's eyes lit up.

"Right, absolutely, a wise decision!"

"Yes.... I'll talk to the club chairman... He might have his own ideas on who goes in, as there are some junior coaches who might want to take over."

Dean winked.

"Oh don't worry... I play golf with the chairman every week, shouldn't be an issue!"

Jane sighed. It seemed like there was no real point in arguing at this stage.

"Right... Well, no time like the present to break the news I guess."

She puffed up her lungs and found them oddly deflated as she stood up.

"Guys, GATHER IN!..."

People stopped and wandered over, some still conversing or not realising what was going on until the rest began to converge.

".... Please..."

She waited until they were all in a circle.

"I have an announcement to make...."

Everyone tensed up.

The last few announcements had not signalled good news.

Her eyes lingered on Bob, brow creased, looking morose, Mo and Claire looking restless, Terry with a mirthless expression, nudging Kevin who didn't meet her eye.

"I'll be... stepping down for a period."

Gasps and groans thrummed through the air.

"What!!"

"WHY?"

"Coach, come on!"

"Whyyyyy, we'll play better next game!"

Disappointed faces gazed at her as she placed her hands in the air for silence, and they respectfully fell quiet.

"I'm not feeling right physically, or mentally... I need time to get back to it..."

She glanced at the gates.

"... And... and I ask that you respect my decision... "

A few murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"In my stead...."

Nobody was surprised at the following words.

"....Dean will be coaching the team."

The group didn't say anything. They had all seen it coming, and when Dean stepped up their expressions were defeated, apart from Terry who was glaring with open hatred.

"Thanks Jane....!"

Jane nodded.

"Right, everyone let's finish up with some throwing drills."

Jane pulled away and settled herself on the bench as they got in one line, grabbing a ball each.

One by one they began to throw the ball into the net fixed metres away from them.

Charlene readied herself to throw.

Dean was on her immediately.

"Now focus yourself, losing concentration can cost you a game in a second!"

Her brow furrowed, and she threw.

The ball nestled sweetly in the net.

She sighed in relief, and Dean's lip thinned, but he said nothing.

Kevin came forward and threw the ball casually into the net.

"Great stuff!" enthused Dean, "that's how it should be done!"

Bob up next.

Jane could see the miss before he even stepped up, and Dean's eyes lit up as the boy dried one of his palms on his shirt.

"Come on then, let's see what you have for me THIS time!"

He lobbed a ball high and wide.

"Typical! What ARE we going to do with you!" crowed Dean.

Jane stared at the entrance to the ground, imagining Freddie running to her, radiant skin catching the sunlight as he jumped and wrap his arms around her.

Unnoticed by Jane, Terry snuck to the side of the field with a determined look on her face, and withdrew her phone.

***

*DING*

Fred grabbed the phone, slumped in his chair.

Terry.

He grunted.

She'd sent a picture.

His eyes widened, and something squeezed his heart as he looked at an angel with her arm in a sling, cuts across the left side of her face, sitting forlornly on the bench at the field.

Without quite realising what he was doing, car-keys were in his hands and he was sprinting downstairs. He was shoving down the handbrake already before he realised he still hadn't changed the flat tyre.