A few weeks later, Coach Dukakis called Hunter into the coaches’ bullpen in the field house after practice.
“Look,” the coach said. “I don’t know what’s in your head. But I told you to knock off that cut and put some weight back on. And instead you ignore me and it’s like you’re on a different planet. Eat a damn pizza and get whatever girl it is out of your head and get back in the game. You’re gonna start having scouts come and you get one chance to impress.”
Hunter reacted angrily. “All I’ve been doing is eating! I had six peanut butter sandwiches after practice yesterday and then a double helping of my mom’s meatloaf and mashed potatoes after that,” he complained. “I don’t know why I can’t put the weight on!”
“Well, figger it out,” said the coach. “And go to uniform supply and get kit that fits. You can keep what you have for when the bulk finally hits.”
Frustrated, Hunter left the field house and was checking his phone when he literally ran into Adrian in the hallway. This freaking kid… a button down shirt buttoned all the way up, and high water pants that showed off his ugly argyle socks! Unreal.
“Whoops,” said Adrian.
“Bro. Are you wearing platform shoes? Come on. I was teasing you about your height but you gotta live with what you were given,” said Hunter.
“I’m not wearing platforms, you gorilla,” retorted Adrian. “Now get the hell out of my way. I’m late.”
Did… did that little nerd just mouth off to me? Hunter thought to himself as Adrian trotted down the hall. Just then, his phone chimed.
“It’s September 30th,” said the DM from the unblockable mystery account. “Still no remorse, still no forgiveness. I guess the lesson hasn’t been learned yet. So another two percent…”
Two percent? Two percent of what? This weirdo. Maybe I should tell the police, thought Hunter.