The good news is that I don’t have to practice today, due to my bruised ribs. My doctor’s note is my golden ticket, and I’m out for the week. The bad news is that Coach Krake doesn’t let me go home. I’m forced to sit on the mat and watch. 

My mind wanders during practice, and I do my best to snap my attention whenever Coach or Mateo teach technique. The thick, black mats sink under Coach’s weight, and I try to concentrate on Mateo. If I’m ever going to hold my own, I need to know this crap. When I look at his thick shoulders and tight butt—there are some good things to these stupid singlets, especially a physique like Mateo’s—I get distracted too easily. 

My gaze shifts to Coach. There’s certainly nothing attractive about him. He focuses on takedowns. The wrestlers pair up, and the move is to grab both of your partner’s legs with your hands, just below the kneecap, and tug hard. That sends the opponent falling on his back.

Marcus pairs up with Jeff, and I cringe when Jeff executes his takedown. He’s rough, and his attitude reminds me of Logan’s. Jeff’s eyes burn with a competitive spirit. He has a slender neck, thin jaw, and milky white skin that contrasts with dark, short hair. Marcus has bigger muscles. Nicely defined biceps rip on his coconut colored skin, and when he smiles, he’s absolutely adorable. 

I root for Marcus, but he’s too gentle. Krake gives him fifty push-ups and tells him to get tougher, while complimenting Jeff’s aggression. Marcus completes his push-ups with enthusiasm, but something about his eyes tells me he wishes there was a better program or better coach. Maybe I’m projecting—I sure as heck wish there was something better than this. 

Mateo and Logan avoid each other. Does Coach know anything about what happened with varsity? 

As if to answer my question, he makes a special announcement. “Today, you get a unique opportunity. We’re gonna have a scrimmage with the varsity team.”

The color washes out from Mateo’s face. Tanner and the rest of the varsity thugs jog to the center of the wrestling room. 

“Tanner! Mateo!” Krake yells, and they approach the center. Tanner scowls at Mateo, but Mateo doesn’t back down. “You’ll be the coaches today,” Krake says. It may be my imagination but both wrestlers look a little relieved. If Mateo were to take Tanner in front of everyone, that would sure be embarrassing. 

For the rest of the practice, I wince as each JV wrestler gets pounded by a varsity guy. They are all unfair matches. 

I catch a fair number of glares from the varsity team, too. 

When the scrimmages end, Coach says, “All right. Mateo, you take JV for conditioning. Varsity, it’s you and me for now. JV—dismissed.”

“But what about a battle of the captains?” It’s Logan who asks. Of course it is. 

“How could I forget?” Krake cackles. “But not today, team. Next Friday, we host a public scrimmage. It’s our annual season opener. I will post who you will wrestle soon, but our main event, which is sure to draw plenty of public attention, is Tanner versus Mateo. Friday! So, let’s not spoil it tonight.”

“Looking forward to it,” Tanner says loudly and licks his lips.

“Me, too. One-on-one. No one else to help you.” Mat speaks calmly, but sweat runs down his forehead. 

Krake looks at each of them and laughs. “I look forward to it, too, men. Now, Mateo, you take these boys and whip them into shape. Tanner and varsity—with me.”

I follow the JV team to the weight room. Catching up with Mat, I ask quietly, “Are you scared?”

He glances to make sure no one else is watching. “Yeah. A little.” He clears his throat. “Okay, a lot.”

“But you can win. Think of what that would do to his ego!” I say.

“And to all the assholes,” he adds. “It’s just a scrimmage match, but I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to win something more badly.” 

“I wish I could help you train,” I say.

“You can.” His words surprise me. “I could use someone to encourage me.” We’re at the top of the stairs that lead to the high school’s weight room. The rest of the team has already gotten to work.

Logan’s on a pull-up bar, and his biceps twitch with a golf ball size bulge. Maybe it’s not much, but he gets stronger every day. I can’t do a single pull-up, and he must have completed a dozen. 

Teaming up with another wrestler named Anthony, Marcus takes off his shirt. For a young kid, he’s already got nice pecs. Anthony spots him, and jealousy stirs inside me. I swallow hard. 

“Can you meet me tonight?” I turn my attention back to Mateo. “I don’t wanna practice around anyone else. But I could use someone to hold me accountable.”

“Yeah, absolutely!” I can’t believe Mat wants me to help him. “Oh, shit!” 

“What is it? You busy?” He frowns, looking genuinely disappointed. 

I forgot about Camila. We’re supposed to have a movie night.

I look at Mateo’s face, his creamy brown skin, those dark, hypnotic eyes. I can’t say no to him. 

“No. I’m not busy. When and where?” I smile, thrilled to spend another evening with Mateo. But another piece of me dies on the inside. 

I have to lie to Camila again.