Caught Running Read Online Free PDF Page B

proving themselves to be JV material and no more.
    "Who wants to take the running today?” he asked his coaches softly, pointing to his heel in explanation of why he couldn't do it himself.
    Brandon looked around at the other coaches. The three assistants were shuffling their feet, a younger coach he didn't know looked unsure, and Troy was oblivious—or at least acting that way. “I'll do it,” he volunteered. How difficult could it be?
    Jake raised an eyebrow at Brandon and looked him over carefully. He certainly had the look of a runner, but looks could be deceiving. Hell, if Troy could look like he knew what he was doing, then Brandon could look like an athlete, right? “All righty,” he said as he waved Brandon closer. “To warm them up we make them run suicides against a coach,” he informed the man as the first of the herd of ballplayers began to come down the third base line. “If they beat you, they get bragging rights. If you beat them...” he trailed off and smiled wickedly as he waved his hand at the field.
    "Suicides?” Brandon murmured.
    "Oh, yeah,” Jake answered as he pointed down to the third base line. The assistants were setting up cones marking lines across the field as the older players filed up obediently at the painted white line and instructed the younger boys to follow suit. “Start here at the line, run to the first cone line and back, run to the second line, then back, and so on with all five lines,” he told Brandon as he pointed out the cones. “I can make one of the kids do it,” he added in a lower voice as he waved his hand at the college kids. “That's what they're here for, after all. $9.50 an hour for me to torture at my whim."
    The science teacher chuckled. “No, I don't mind. So is the point speed or endurance?” he asked curiously. “Do I just do it once the fastest, or over and over?"
    "Speed,” Jake answered immediately. “If you beat them, they know what comes next. So they'll be gunning for you,” he warned as he wagged a finger and walked toward the dugout to grab his bullhorn.
    "He thinks he needs that thing to be heard,” the freshman coach murmured from Brandon's side. “What a joke, man, he could whisper and these kids would hear him. Hey,” he said as he stepped up next to Brandon and offered his hand to shake. “Whatever you do, just don't let them win. Don't pull your punches, right? He hates that."
    Smiling, Brandon shook his hand, then grabbed one foot at a time, stretching a little by pulling them up behind him. “I'm Brandon. New assistant coach. Of some kind,” he said with a half grin.
    "Jonathan,” the man offered. “Freshman head coach. I go by ‘hey you,’ mostly,” the man offered as Jake's voice boomed over the field. The bullhorn hung unused at his side.
    Leaning over at the waist to stretch, Brandon chuckled as he looked over toward Jake. “You were right about the bullhorn,” he said, standing and turning his waist each way in a slight warm-up. He saw the kids trotting in their direction. “Do you teach?” he asked as Jonathan walked with him over to the starting line.
    "Over at Trickum, the middle school up the road, yeah,” Jonathan answered as he watched the boys line up. “Here we go. Good luck, Coach,” he offered with a pat to Brandon's hip as he jogged away from the starting line.
    Brandon blinked at the familiar touch, but didn't say anything as he moved to stand at the line. At least there was someone here who wouldn't judge him by his past, unlike Jake and Troy. And as the students lined up around him, he realized he would be new to some of them, too. He only had one class of freshmen this year, whereas most upperclassmen he'd taught sometime in the last three years.
    Some of the older students and seniors nearly matched him in size, and they were in great shape. Brandon hoped to be able to at least keep up with them. This sort of running was new to him. He glanced over to Jake, squatting slightly to keep his