"Hey there, Jaynath, need a hand with those?" Mr. Phani offered. Jaynath , the English Literature teacher, was struggling to push a cart piled up with Shakespeare down the hall.
"Thanks Jai, I really appreciate it," the elderly teacher replied. He took over the cart from her, and the two of them slowly walked down the main hallway of Jackson Hills High. It was two days after the end of the year, and except for the teachers, the entire school building was more or less deserted. The two spoke casually about the year, their summer plans, Jaynath's grandson, and other light chatter.
"What's Bishnu still doing here?" Jaynath asked as they passed a slightly open door. The soccer coach's season had been over for a while, but he was still in his office.
Phani shrugged. None of the teachers particularly liked Bishnu, nor were very friendly with him. He had a rather abrasive personality to begin with, and there were rumors here and there... nothing even remotely solid, as far as anyone knew. But given that he wasn't particularly likable to begin with, even a shadow of impropriety was reason enough for most teachers to avoid getting to know him any better.
"Looking at video from the season, maybe?" He nudged playfully. "Better knock before you go in there, huh?"
She looked up at him disapprovingly. "Now, Jai, you know I don't like those sort of jokes, they're quite inapp-" She broke off as Bishnu, hearing voices outside his office, came out into the hall.
He was dark looking man of about 45. He wasn't tall or short, but somewhat heavyset and stocky. He looked to have been a capable athlete as a younger man, which was quite true. However, years of poor dieting and a receding hairline left him looking rather pathetic in recent years. He was a good coach though, and the banners hanging from the gymnasium rafters were all the job security he needed.
"How's it going, guys?" He asked with a cheerful smile. Neither of them returned it.
"Not too bad, " replied Phani after a brief pause. "What are you up to, thought you were in the off season now?"
"Well, I am," Bishnu said off-handedly, running a hand through his remaining hair. "Just going over some of the videos from the state finals. What a game that was, want to make sure we keep that same momentum going into next year."
"Back to back titles is nothing to sneeze at," interjected Mrs. Griffin before turning away, hoping Phani would follow her lead and keep moving down the hall. But Phani ignored her, continuing to look critically at Bishnu, as if sizing him up.
"No, it's not anything to sneeze at," Phani finally said. "You're sure gonna miss that Amritha next year though, aren't you?"
Mrs. Griffin shot him a reproachful look. If Bishnu caught anything behind that comment, he gave no sign of it. For the briefest moment, the corner of his mouth twitched downward, before he reclaimed his nerve.
"Why, yes, Amritha's been the star of the show for quite a while," he finally replied, his voice low and even. "I'm going to miss all the girls moving on, of course."
Seemingly unsatisfied with that answer, Phani kept pushing.
"Some more than others, though."
Now the implication was impossible to ignore. Coach Bishnu locked eyes with Mr. Phani for what seemed like minutes. His jaw muscles twitched under his scruffy five o'clock shadow. For his part, Phani didn't move but met Bishnu's gaze, the two men sizing each other up.
Finally, Bishnu looked away.
"I've got a lot of work to do, have a nice day guys," he muttered, before retreating into his office, this time shutting the door firmly behind him. The two teachers continued down the hall.
"You shouldn't have said that," Mrs. Griffin said, her tone dripping in disapproval. Mr. Phani made no reply.
Back in his office, Bishnu took three deep, shaky breaths and counted to 100. When he was sure the two were gone, he tiptoed to the door and locked it, as gently as he could to prevent anyone from hearing the key turn in the lock. Then he returned to his computer, where just as he had said, a number of videos and photos of last season's games was open. His hands still sweaty, Bishnu resumed clicking through the collection. On the state's high school athletics webpage, he slowly clicked through each of his players' profiles, watching the last names slowly run through the alphabet, his heart beating faster and faster as he inexorably approached the one he knew deep down he was looking for.
And there she was. Amritha , senior at Jackson Hills High School, 5'6", 56Kg. Three-times State Player of the Year, two-time state champion, 5-star recruit. As always, Bishnu felt himself starting to grow hard as he looked at the pretty blonde beaming in her profile picture. He closed his eyes for a minute to calm his breathing, wiping sweat off his forehead. He constantly glanced back at the door, as if it might unlock itself of its own accord and people might wander in to confront him about his secret shame.
He minimized his browser and went back to looking at the footage from last season. There was Amritha, raising the trophy high over her head. Amritha, hands cupped around her mouth, screaming instructions to a teammate. Amritha, battling an opponent for position in the penalty box, her brow furrowed with concentration. And beside them, other pictures, pictures that Bishnu had secretly screen-capped from social media. Amritha at graduation, striding confidently across the stage. Amritha at the beach, her athletic body shining in a blue two piece. Amritha at party, wearing a sleeveless lilac dress with her hair curled and her lips bright red.
"God," Bishnu whispered to himself tremulously, running his eyes up and down her slender figure, imagining that carefree smile was for him. He went back, as he always did, to the state final they had won a month ago. God, she had looked so perfect that day in her jersey, with those red shorts exposing her thighs and her long hair in a tight ponytail. And in the second half when the sky opened up and it started pouring, he had been sure the game would be delayed, but for whatever reason, the referee had decided to keep it going. When Amritha had lined up that 89th minute free kick from 6 yards outside the box, wet clothes clinging tightly to her body, silhouetted against the lightning in the distance, she had looked like an angel from some dream Bishnu had never dared to have. And afterwards, when she hugged him, it had been all he could do to shift his body to the side, praying that she wouldn't feel his erection hard as a rock against his leg.
And now, just like that, she was gone and he would never see her again? No, he thought, that can't be. This was destiny, it was meant to be... it wasn't supposed to rain that day. The referee was supposed to delay the game for lightning. No, he had been meant to have that vision of the young blonde goddess drenched in rain... it was meant to be. He had to see her again, and then everything would work out...
Amritha was laying on her stomach in bed when she got the text. She had been browsing pictures of college campuses, trying to find out what they looked like outside of the brochures that they had sent her. UNC, USC, UCLA, BU... the list went on and on. It was a good problem to have, she knew, but still, all the research was starting to get a little dull. She was comparing dining plans when she felt her phone vibrate.
Hey ... hope your summer is going well... msg me back when you can, I have some stuff for you...
Amritha had to smile. In his texts or emails, Coach Bishnu always sounded like such a boomer. Still, she liked him a lot and he knew everything about the sport. He had taken her understanding of the intricacies of soccer to the next level this season, and it had showed in her game.
Hey coach! Everything's great, hbu? What stuff are you talking about?
His reply was almost instantaneous.
Got some new footage of the finals... game tape to go over, maybe some stuff you can clean up in your game. I can FedEx it to you if you want
Amritha was about to reply with a thank you, but something stopped her. Coach Bishnu's text bubbles were still going. They continued for quite a long time, as if he was typing and deleting and then typing again. Finally came the follow-up.
Or you can just come pick them up today