Page 1 of Tutored By the Smart Girl

1

Rush

I jog off the football field toward the locker room.

“That arm looks good, Radcliffe.”

Tommy Winters has been the quarterback’s coach for the Tennessee University Rebels football program for over ten years. The man knows his game.

I stop along the sidelines. “Thanks.”

“You following your new workout with Jackson?”

I rest my helmet on my leg. “Yeah.” I nod. “I started Monday. It’s good.”

Coach Winters punches my bicep. “Keep up the workouts. Oh, Coach wants you in his office after you shower.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Why?”

“Relax. You’re not in trouble.” Winters tosses a football to our equipment manager. “Hit the shower.”

What is this about? Why does

I shuffle to the locker room, my feet heavy and barely notice the ruckus as I plop down on the bench in front of my locker.

The tension builds in my neck and my stomach clenches at the thought of my father getting involved once again.

My father, James “Kip” Radcliffe, he’s a household name around Tennessee University. One of the biggest names to ever Anna the football field and I’m expected to hold up the family name.

“Nice throwing out there today.” Miles “Oh-Man” O’Leary, one of the top running backs in college ball and also one of my housemates, chin juts my way. What he doesn’t have in physical stature, he makes up for with confidence and an ego. The “Oh-Man” barely reaches five-eleven in height and looks unintimidating next to the bigger players, but the man is made of solid steel— muscular, wiry, and can squeeze through the big players. Not only that, once he’s loose, he can run fast. Lightning fast.

“Yeah, and you actually caught it.” I love razzing this guy. My comment brings a moan from my teammates and a wet towel gets tossed in my direction.

As I get dressed, my mind wanders to what this meeting could possibly be about. I take my time. I’m in no hurry to hear that my father has contacted the coaching staff on my behalf once again.

Oliver Benjamin, one of our defensive players, parks himself on the bench and loads up his duffle bag. Oliver, known as Benji, towers over my six-foot frame and is basically as intimidating as hell. He’s huge. I swear the guy can melt a girl’s heart with just a look. He eats up all the attention he gets from the female population.

“Nice work out there today.” Benji zips the bag.

Kade Compton plops down on the bench. “Fuck, I really sucked out there today.” He rips off his jersey and tosses it into his locker. “I should’ve had that last pass. Slipped right through my fingers.”

Kade’s our most easy-going running back and known as “wings” for his ability to fly through opposing defensive players.He may be quiet and laid back, but the kid is tougher than nails and darts down the field like a blue streak. But he’s also hard on himself, something I understand.

Kade slams his locker shut with a lot more power than necessary. Benji shoots me a look and I shrug.

“What’s up, wingman?” Benji gives Kade a nudge.

“Told you. I should’ve had that last pass. Easy. Dropped it.”

“No worries.” Benji pats our friend on the back. “Your hands are too smooth.”

The players within earshot roar with laughter and even Kade grins slightly.

“All that extra time in the shower—” Benji has a shit-eating grin on his face.

Miles ties his shoes, his head coming up. “Whatdoyou do in that shower for so long? You’re not any prettier when you come out, you know.”

“Everything was fine until Wings showed up in town. Now there’s been a water shortage from his long showers.” Benji laughs and holds a stick of deodorant to his mouth like a microphone. “Breaking news. Marilyn’s mayor is calling for possible water restrictions. News has traveled all the way to the governor of Tennessee who warns citizens the state has never seen anything like this. It’s a drought of massive proportions.”

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