"You're not going to really give me to the janitor, are you?" Chad asked with rising terror in his voice. The coach's nonchalant tone was making him feel even worse. He was trapped in someone else's nightmare or horror film.
"Hm? I guess if you were to give me a good reason not to do It? Otherwise why not?" Coach said with a shrug. "But not right now. First, I need a towel for after my shower."
Chad had followed coach into his private office with its own private bath. The coach peeled off his sweat drenched clothing. Chad painfully recalled that coach was training for a marathon.
"Well, you wanna be a towel now and hang on my rack, or you want to make yourself useful?"
Coach sat down and pointed at his shoes. Chad took the hint. He removed the coach's shoes and socks. The coach stood and pointed at his shorts. Chad obliged.
"Now fold the neatly and put them on my desk. You can do the same with my jockstrap."
Chad almost asked if coach was serious, but he knew from the coach's expression he was.
"Maybe the janitor won't get you after all. You scrub my back, and I'll scrub yours," said the coach as he turned on the shower. He added, "My loofah is on the back of the dor."
"Oh, you literally meant scrub your back!"
Coach laughed. Chad grabbed the loofah, took a breath, and followed coach into the small shower stall.