Page 24 of The Problem with Players

They sure didn’t pull any punches.

I looked back over at Avery, searching for a bit of help.

She didn’t look as if she felt bad for me at all as she shrugged. “You should never say to teenage boys that nothing is off-limits.”

Fair enough.

I cleared my throat and crossed my arms. “Being in the spotlight as a famous figure brought me a lot of highs. It also brought some low moments. Yet I like to think we aren’t our best or worst moments. We are the moments in-between.”

Another player raised his hand. I called on him.

“Hey, Coach. I’m Caleb. Third baseman.”

“Nice to meet you, Caleb,” I said. “And your question?”

“So yeah, uh, is that a yes to Ryan’s question?” he asked.

I cleared my throat and looked around. “Any more questions?”

More hands shot back up.

Avery stepped forward and slid her hands into the pockets of her joggers. “Any questions that aren’t about Coach P being famous, about his past partying behavior, about who he may or may not have dated, about how much money is in his account, or about his injury?”

All the hands slowly went down.

Avery smirked a little. It was clear she knew the guys inside and out. It would take me a little time to catch up to her level of knowledge, but I was ready to take it all in and play catch-up.

“All right, then. Let’s get to work. We’re going to split up into teams.” She used her hand to split the guys down the middle. “Caleb, you’re leading your team on hitting drills. I want to see pepper work, soft toss, and tee work. Cameron, you’re team leader for pitching drills. Start with bullpen sessions, then toss in some towel drills. Let’s go! Move, move, move.”

The guys responded to Avery’s orders with haste.

One thing was clear—the team respected her. That was a good thing. A coach with no respect from their team was no coach at all.

“What was that?”Avery whisper-shouted after practice as she followed me into my office. “Why did you tell them you were the assistant coach after Ray said you were the head coach?”

“I turned down the position. He told me you knew and agreed to the first arrangement, and when it became achingly clear that that wasn’t the truth, I told him I’d only be the assistant coach or I’d walk. So”—I slightly bowed—“I’m here to assist, Coach.”

She rolled her eyes. Leave it to Avery Kingsley to somehow make eye-rolling attractive. “You’re so annoying.”

I arched an eyebrow. “I’m annoying for letting you keep your head coach position?”

“You didn’tletme keep it.”

“Technically, yeah, I did.”

“Technically, piss off,” she replied.

I smirked.

She rolled her eyes again. “Stop smirking, Nathaniel. Your smugness is annoying.”

“I get the feeling you think everything about me is annoying.”

“That’s because it is. You, as a whole human being, are annoying.”

“I missed you, too, Coach.”

The rage that shot through her system erupted into a burst of shouting and hand gestures. “Youare apainin myass, Nathaniel, and I cannotstandyou.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “But if we are forced to work together, we have to have some ground rules.”

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