The Penalty Box - Teagan Kade Page 0,22

my reluctance will only spur him on. He’s not one for letting things go so easily. I know how important this merger will be to him. But he can’t make me marry Harry.

He can’t make me do a damn thing.

*

“Another.”

Carrie tosses me a ball and I send it up, the resultant swish telling me I’ve hit home.

Carrie’s staring at me in disbelief. “That’s ten for ten. Where’d you find your mojo, superstar?”

I gesture for another, Carrie sending it to me. “In telling my father to fuck off out of my life.”

I shoot, score again.

“Guess we’ll have to find you some more fathers then,” says Carrie, reaching for the ball rack once more.

I’m about to shoot when Coach claps me on the back. “Marsden, looking good. Happy to see you took my advice on board.”

‘What advice?’ mouths Carrie to the side.

I suppress a laugh and smile. “Of course, Coach. You always know what’s best.”

Hamilton likes that. She goes sauntering off with a smile, clipboard in hand.

Carrie points to my face. “What’s that?”

I reach up. “What?”

Carrie squints. “Looks like you’ve got a bit of shit on your face there. You know, from burrowing so far up Hamilton’s ass just now.”

I fire the ball at her. “Says the World’s Biggest Kiss-Ass.”

Carrie shrugs. “Hey, you got to do what you got to do to get ahead.”

“You’re sounding like my father.”

“Or Monica Lewinski.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you on your knees.”

“Only in church.”

“Or at church, for that matter.”

“Hey.” She tosses the ball back, offended. “I’ll have you know I’m a good, Christian girl.”

“Who just last week told me she’d been in a threesome with those twins from the gymnastics team,” I finish.

She shrugs again. “They were flexible. You ever seen a guy put his legs behind his head? You should have seen what he could do with his mouth.”

I make a gagging motion as Carrie skips off for a lay-up.

After practice Coach asks me for a word in her office. I’d be concerned if there wasn’t more praise than yelling today. Usually Coach is looking for blood. I swear every coach at this place is a carbon copy of each other, scooped up from wherever washed-out drill sergeants go.

“Close the door, will you?” Hamilton asks.

I enter and seat myself. “You asked to see me?”

The smile’s a good start. “I like what I saw out there today, Marsden. You bring that to the next game and you’re going places—places far away from here.”

“I don’t think China’s scouting for American players at the moment.”

She levels her finger at me. “Which is precisely what I’m getting at here: You need to start looking for an agent.”

This I was not expecting. “You think so?”

“I’ve been here twenty years, believe it not. I’m practically baked into these boards and your talent I’ve only seen the likes of once or twice. It’s not just me, either. I’ve heard rumors from the scouts, your name mentioned in certain hallowed circles. You’re going to be a star Marsden and when you’re out there kicking ass, I expect you to mention me in your post-game interviews. But first, an agent.”

I can’t hide my excitement. “Yes, Coach.”

She pretends to look for paperwork and play despondent. “Better get going then.”

I stand and straighten myself, do my best to look business-like. “Yes, Coach. Thank you, Coach.”

Nolan’s waiting for me in the parking lot leaning against his car in a slim white tee and straight-cut 501s. Hang a cigarette from that mouth and you’d have yourself a modern-day James Dean.

He pushes himself off the panel-work, meeting me halfway and taking my bag off my shoulder.

“You got the window fixed,” I note.

“I did. You look like you’re in a good mood. I didn’t see you leave this morning.”

I poke him in the chest. “I didn’t want to wake you, and yes, I might be a little, teensy-tiny bit excited.”

“Because…?” he leads.

“Coach told me I need to start looking for an agent, that I have what it takes, so to speak.”

“A big account and friends in high places?”

I shove him. “I’m serious.”

“So am I. Our family friend, and top gun sports agent Jamie, does fit the bill.”

I’m shocked. “You guys have a family agent?”

He slides his hands into his pockets, shrugging in nonchalance. “Doesn’t everyone? I could have a word with him, offer to put you guys in touch…while touting your on-court supremacy, of course.”

The good news just keeps on coming today. “That would be great.”

“So you’ll accept?”

“Of course.”

“Come on,” he says, moving towards the car. “Phoenix and Heather