Page 7 of Dirty Coach To Go

“So,” she says with an uncontainable grin. I can’t tell her how much I hated every second I spent with the obnoxious jock and how it broke my heart to see my former softball coach out on a date with a golden-haired woman. She wants to hear that I had an amazing night with Bobby and that we shared a passionate kiss, but that couldn’t be any further from the truth.

“I had fun,” I lie. I don’t know what else to say. If I tell her that he tried to pressure me into sex, my hot-headed best friend would show up on his doorstep and give him a piece of her mind. The tall, thin blonde might not look like it, but she’s very feisty when she wants to be.

“Did you guys kiss?” she asks. If you could call the way Bobby tried to devour my face a kiss, then yes. I shiver as I relive the moment in my mind.

“Yeah,” I admit half-heartedly.

“I knew it!” she shrieks. “How was it?”

“He’s not that great of a kisser.” At least I can be honest about that part. Her smile fades a bit, almost as if she’s disappointed to hear that the former football captain’s smooches aren’t as magical as she has imagined. I hate that I have to burst her bubble, but in my opinion, Bobby is the worst kisser in the world.

“Really? What was it like?” she asks.

“Extremely wet. I never knew one person could produce that much saliva,” I giggle. She laughs too, and suddenly I feel better about my horrid date. It’s easier to make light of the situation than it is to wallow in my own sorrow.

“Are you guys going to go out again?” she inquires. I hope not. Hopefully, after witnessing me sprinting a marathon from his house to mine, Bobby doesn’t ever want to see me again. I’m pretty sure that I’m the first girl to ever turn him down, so the promiscuous playboy is probably too embarrassed to ask me out on another date.

“I doubt it,” I say. “I’m not really interested in him.”

“You’re so lucky, Tessa. You can have any guy you want. You get your pick of the litter,” she says. Her words surprise me. Up until recently, guys never really noticed me. The boys in high school always went for the skinny, pretty girls like Nicole. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and up until last night, I had never really been intimate with a guy before. Nicole is way more experienced than I am, and she has never had trouble reeling in boys. Besides, she’s not completely right about me being able to have any guy I want. The only man I really desire is Coach Mason, and he’s off limits.

“Are you kidding, Nicki? Guys practically throw themselves at you,” I giggle.

“Yeah, the loser ones. The boys at Evergreen are total scum bags. I wish I went to Trinity like you. The guys there are probably way hotter than the ones hanging around my school,” she laments as she leans against the counter.

“They’re not that much hotter, trust me,” I reassure her. I get that she wishes she could go away to college, but she isn’t missing out on much. My words don’t seem to settle my blonde bestie, though. She thinks that I’m the lucky one, but she has no idea how much I cried last night when I got home. I wouldn’t wish the pain I’m feeling right now on my worst enemy.

The bell above the entrance door chimes. Thank goodness for the bagel craving customer that just walked in. I was on the verge of telling my gal pal about how I’m secretly in love with my old coach. Keeping this secret to myself has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. The elderly man takes his time as he makes his way to the counter, striking his cane against the ground with every step he takes.

“Good morning, sir. Welcome to Bagel Bunch,” Nicki sings like a chipper bird. For the moment, she seems to be back to her normal animated self.

“Hi. Can I have a plain bagel with onion cream cheese, lightly toasted?” the senior citizen asks with his raspy voice.

“Right away!” she says as she scurries off toward the bagel storage container. I feel horrible that my best friend is slightly jealous of me. In all honesty, I wish I could switch places with her. The only reason I chose to go to Trinity is because my parents wanted me to. They were so excited when they found out I got in that they told my entire family I’d be going there before I even had the chance to make a decision on whether or not I actually wanted to go. I felt pressured to go away to the Manhattan-based school because it was what my mom and dad wanted. My dad thinks I’ll be the world’s best accountant, but after taking a few accounting courses this past year, I can’t see myself actually pursuing a career in the numbers game. I’d much rather open my own bakery someday.

When I was a little girl, my mom and I would make the fluffiest cakes and gooiest chocolate chip cookies every Sunday. I snuck a pastry decorating course into my schedule last semester. My parents have no idea I opted out of a required accounting class so that I could spend a few hours a week doing what I love. I’m always happiest when I’m baking, and I feel the most comfortable in a kitchen.

I feel like my parents are wasting their money on the over-priced university, but I don’t have the heart to tell them that being an accountant isn’t what I want to do and that I really just want to come back home permanently. They’d freak if they knew the fifty thousand dollars they just spent on tuition is going down the drain. Nicole wishes she were in my shoes, but that’s only because she doesn’t know how unhappy I was all semester long, being away from my family, my friends, and Coach Mason. Contrary to what she thinks, I actually feel very unlucky right now.

“Here you go, sir.” She hands the old man his breakfast. I want to open up to my girlfriend and tell her what’s running through my mind, but I can’t. I wish I could rest my head on her shoulder as we share a tub of strawberry ice cream and tell hereverything. Maybe then she wouldn’t envy me.

The elder’s cane clunks as he makes his way out of the bagel shop. My stomach turns, and the truth rumbles in my stomach like vomit that’s ready to project upward.

“Nicole, I-”

“Tessa, I’m sorry,” she interrupts before I can say another word. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m proud of you; you’re really coming out of your shell. I feel silly for being a little jealous about how great things are for you right now. You deserve to be happy.”

“Trust me, you shouldn’t be jealous of me, Nicole,” I say.

“I can’t help it,” she admits. “You went away to college for a year, and you came back with this amazing body and a hell of a lot of sex appeal. Guys are drooling over you. You made it out of this small town, and now you’re staying in New York City. You’re living my dream life,” she chuckles. Nicole always has fantasized about moving to the Big Apple. She said she wanted to grow up be Carrie Bradshaw. I was never much of a city girl, which is probably why I’m having such a hard time adjusting to the fast-paced environment. I cringed every time I took the filthy, rat-infested subway. The crowded sidewalks made me miss my small suburban neighborhood. I felt alone in the over-populated city and often wanted to catch the next ride back to Sunnyside.

“Sometimes, I wish I never went away to college,” the truth flows from my lips. “To be honest, I’m a little jealous of you. You get to be here with your family and our friends.”

She smiles. “I guess the grass is always greener on the other side.”

“I guess you’re right,” I say with a half-smile. I feel relieved that I’ve finally admitted out loud that I’m unhappy at Trinity, but I’m still holding onto another secret, one much larger than feeling lonely in the Big Apple. Nicole has been my best friend since the third grade. She’s kept every one of my secrets, even the really embarrassing ones, but can I trust her with this one too?

“Too bad Bobby is a shitty kisser. I guess you’ll just have to find another boy to have a summer fling with,” she says with a smirk. Little does she know I have absolutely zero interest inboys.