A Li'l Dab of Drama

by LaJill Hunt

  Jodie just shrugged at him. She had been dating the personal trainer for the past month. He was a nice enough guy and she had no complaints. He was attentive, smart, and he seemed to enjoy spending time with not only her, but her sixteen year old son. The fact that he was fine as hell didn't hurt either. She often had to keep herself from staring at his physique, which was very reminiscent of a Greek God.

  Suddenly, the coach called a timeout and all of the guys huddled in a circle. Jodie closed her eyes and began to silently pray. God, please let Coach Shaw have some sort of divine revelation and realize that Baron is the key to their winning this game. Please God, give the man a clue.

  The whistle blew, signaling the time out was over, and so was Jodie's prayer. Her eyes flickered open and she expected to see her son taking off his warm ups and running onto the floor, prepared to lead his team to victory. Instead, Baron took his seat at the end of the bench and leaned back.

  Unable to contain her frustration any longer, Jodie jumped on top of the bleacher where she was standing and yelled out, "What are you doing, Coach? You're losing and the best damn player on the team is on the bench! Put him in so we can WIN for a change, Stupid!"

  Coach Shaw turned and glanced at her, then quickly turned away.

  Deon reached over and pulled her down, "Hey, J, calm down!"

  "I can't calm down! He's a moron, for God's sake! That's why they can't win a game! The coach is a LOSER!"

  Jodie could feel they eyes of the other parents staring at her, but she didn't care. She also knew that Coach Shaw could hear her and was ignoring her at this point. Her son was suffering and it was all her fault. Prior to their moving, he had been a key player at St. Bart's Academy and on his way to being ranked nationally, especially with the stellar two seasons he had been on the team. Now, here it was, his junior year of high school and he was being benched on a team that had yet to win a game. Damn her ex-husband for being an asshole.

  "The point guard can't even set up the shot!" Jodie yelled, as one of the guys on the opposing team stole the ball and went running down the court. The swish of the ball going through the hoop seemed to echo as the he landed the three point shot. Just as she was about to point out another flawed play, she looked down and Baron's eyes pleaded with her to just be quiet. Jodie sat down and sulked for the remaining five minutes of the game.

  "I'm glad that's over," Deon sighed once the buzzer sounded, "That was crucial."

  Jodie looked up and shook her head at the final score, in the end, they lost by twenty-three points. Making her way over to her son, she put her arms around him and said, "I'm sorry, Baron."

  "It's not our fault that we suck," Baron shrugged, "And it's not your fault that we lost either."

  "Hey guy," Deon said, "It's not your fault either. I've seen what you can do on the court. Had you been out there, I have no doubt that you woulda made the difference and y'all woulda come out on top."

  "Thanks, Deon," Baron said and the two men pounded fists. Jodie was grateful that Deon was able to provide some motivation for her son. "I gotta get into the locker room with the team."

  "Why? You don't have to shower," Jodie immediately regretted saying the words as soon as she said them.

  "Whatever, Mom. I still gotta be in here with the team for post game with Coach," Baron smirked.

  "I don't see what he would have to say," Jodie snapped, "But, we'll wait for you in the car. Are you hungry?"

  "Do you even need to ask?" Baron smiled.

  Deon looked down at his watch and said, "It's after nine, that's too late to be eating."

  Jodie was already in a mood and the last thing she felt like dealing with was Deon critiquing her late night food choices. She and Baron often shared meals after his games and at five-five and one hundred sixty pounds, she may not have been what he would consider an ideal thirty eight year old body to be, but she was pretty happy with how she looked. The only reason she had even signed up for personal training was because she thought he was fine.

  "Well, Deon," she told him, "I know you have a pretty early schedule in the morning anyway. You can go ahead and leave and I will call you."

  Baron quickly followed his mother's lead and added, "Thanks for coming to my game, man. Although you didn't get to see me do my thing, it still meant a lot."

  "Hey, no problem," Deon smiled, then turned to Jodie and said after Baron was gone, "I'll walk you to your car."

  "Thanks, but I parked on the opposite side."

  "It's no problem, I want to make sure you're safe."

  "I'm sure I'll be fine in this crowd," she assured him.

  "I don't know. The way they were looking at you while you were heckling the coach, someone may try and take you out," Deon laughed and they entered the parking lot filled with noisy students and blaring horns.

  Moments later, they were standing beside her car. Deon leaned over and hugged her. She felt his lips gently press on her cheek and right as he moved closer to her lips, she backed up ever so slightly.

  "Thanks again for coming. I'll call you tomorrow."

  Deon turned and walked away, and Jodie got inside. She leaned back and closed her eyes, wondering if there was something wrong with her. Here she had a perfectly good man who was clearly interested in her, and whom she was undoubtedly attracted to physically, but there was something missing. It was as if every time Deon tried to come close to being intimate, she was hesitant. It had to be the stress she had been under the past few months. After almost twenty years of marriage and a two year separation, her divorce was final, her ex-husband, however, decided that their son no longer needed private school education, and the divorce lawyer agreed. Her child support was lowered dramatically. To make matters worse, the accounting firm where she worked for the past fifteen years, underwent major changes and her department was relocated to what was now her new city. She hated taking her son from his friends, her family and most of all, his basketball team, but she did what she had to do. Baron was understanding of the entire situation, the divorce and the move; but his love of the game, she could tell, was being tested, and Jodie was determined not to have that taken away from her son. She had to do something. The longer she sat in the car, the angrier she became. The crowd became thinner and the parking lot soon emptied. Jodie sat and thought, trying to come up with a master plan. She watched Baron's teammates drift out of the gym and get into various cars. She wondered what was taking her son so long.

  Tap, tap tap. Jodie nearly jumped out of her skin as Baron knocked on the window.

  "Wow, mom, did I wake you?" He laughed as she unlocked the car and climbed in. Jodie looked over at her handsome son, looking very much like his father. His dimpled cheeks and grey eyes were striking.

  "No, I wasn't sleep, I was thinking," she told him.

  "Sure you weren't," he replied. He was a good kid; smart, funny, talented and most of all, respectful. He deserved better than what he was getting.

  Jodie started the car and drove through the parking lot, "What took you so long? You're like the last one to come out."

  "I am the last one to come out," he said, "One of the guys was picking on one of the cheerleaders and she was kinda scared to leave. So, I hung out with her until everyone was gone."

  "Where was your coach?" Jodie asked.

  "He's the only one left, well him and the janitor."

  Jodie approached the exit of the parking lot and instead of pulling out, she turned the car around and headed back toward the gym.

  "What are you doing?" Baron asked, confused.

  "Damn it, I dropped my cell phone. It fell under the bleachers and I meant to get it after the game," Jodie told him.

  "I'll get it for you," Baron went to open his door.

  "No, I'll go. I know exactly where I was sitting. Stay here, I'll be right back."

  Jumping out of the car, Jodie rushed inside the gym door. The janitor, an older guy, was pushing a broom across the floor, and seemed surprised to see her.

  "Can I help ya
?" He asked.

  "Coach Shaw, where is he?"

  "Back office," the guy pointed, "Past the boys locker room and to the left."

  "Thanks," she smiled.

  She made her way down the small hallway and past the boys locker room until she saw a small office door with the name plate reading 'Coach Stewart Shaw'. Stewart, she thought, what a fitting name.

  She knocked on the door and opened it without being invited to. Coach Shaw was leaning on the desk, hand under his chin, sipping what appeared to be scotch from a plastic cup. For a second, she felt kind of sorry for the guy.

  "Coach Shaw," she said, ever so softly.

  "Yeah," he said, "Can I help you?"

  Jodie walked into the office a little further, "I'm Jodie Chapman, Baron's mother."

  He looked at her a little strangely, then said, "What can I do for you, Mrs. Chapman."

  "Jodie," she told him, "I guess I'm a little concerned about Baron's lack of opportunity to play, Coach Shaw. I understand that this is your team, but I don't think my son is being given a chance to utilize his athletic ability and benefit the team. I respect the fact that..."

  "Is that right?" Coach Shaw seemed to sit up and said, "I don't think the rude comments you were shouting tonight were that respectful."

  Jodie felt herself becoming red and wondered if it was from anger or embarrassment, "I admit, I was a bit upset. But, have you seen my son's stats from the past two years, prior to attending Gordon? He was a sophomore and ranked nationally."

  "I know all about Baron and his prior team," Coach Shaw nodded. This surprised Jodie a little, she somehow thought that Coach Shaw wasn't aware of Baron's talent, "As you already pointed out, I am the coach."

  Something about the way he said it suddenly infuriated Jodie. Here she was, trying to have a civil conversation about the most important person in her life and this arrogant jerk was treating her as if she was one of the high school students.

  "Then, Coach, why the fuck won't you let my son play?" Jodie was livid. She no longer cared about being polite. She wanted answers and she wanted them now.

  "Because your son hasn't earned the right to play on my team," Coach Shaw answered.

  "What do you mean, earned?" She hissed, "My son is a dedicated, star athlete. He's an honor student who is well-liked, well-spoken, and most of all, well-behaved. Obviously, he's earned his spot or you wouldn't have chosen him to be on this whack ass team."

  "This whack ass team is full of talented players," Coach Shaw snapped.

  "Oh, my bad, if there's so much talent, including my son, then it's not the team, it's the whack ass coach!"

  "You need to leave!" Coach Shaw stood up, "NOW!"

  "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me why you have a problem with my son!" Jodie was now standing.

  "Look, I have a team full of guys who need the chance to play, unlike your son. These guys don't have trust funds or college money tucked away. They come from hard-working families who struggle just to pay bills every month!" He said.

  "What the fuck are you talking about?" Jodie demanded.

  "Look, like you said, your son has more going for him than basketball, most of these guys, don't! Unlike you or you son, we grew up in this neighborhood! I'm the only father figure most of this team has! I'm doing the best that I can!"

  Jodie stared at Coach Shaw for several seconds, trying to process what he was saying, "That's the most selfish, fucked up thing I've ever heard in my life. So, you think you're just gonna bench my son because he ain't from this neighborhood? Clearly, you've lost your ever-loving mind!"

  "Look, I asked you to leave," Coach Shaw came from behind the desk and stood by the door.

  Jodie stood her ground, refusing to move, "I'm not going anywhere!"

  "Don't make me call security," he told her, holding up what seemed to be a walkie-talkie.

  "Call them," she said, "As a matter of fact, allow me," Jodie walked over and reached for the device, stumbling in the process. Coach Shaw, standing nearly a foot taller than she, reached his arm out and caught her just in time. Their eyes locked and she was somehow drawn to him. She could feel a different heat now rising as she realized how attractive he was. The smoothness of his skin, the color of dark chocolate, the seduction of his full lips, and the strength of his arms which were now around her. She could feel him wanting her and that alone started to excite her. Unable to fight the urge, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him. His hesitation only lasted a moment, and he opened his mouth to invite her in. He nudged the office door closed as his lifted her off the floor and carried her over to the desk. Jodie could feel the folders and papers being shifted and thrown around as they fumbled, taking each other's clothes off. In what seemed to be one swift movement, Coach Shaw removed the sweater and bra she was wearing and her nipples hardened by the chill of the air. He quickly took one into his mouth while rubbing the other one. She reached down and unbuckled his pants, reaching into what she could tell were boxers until she felt the shaft of his hard dick. It was thick and the head was swollen and it seemed to grow bigger as she stroked it.

  "Uuuugh," his moan made her even wetter and she wrapped her legs around him. His hands eased her leggings down and before she knew it, he leaned her back on the desk as he pulled them completely off, along with her boots. She prepared to have him enter, hoping that it wouldn't be too painful. To her pleasant surprise, it wasn't his manhood that she felt, but the softness of his tongue, licking her inner thighs ever so slightly, just before he sucked on her clit.

  Jodie squirmed from the excitement, reaching down and grabbing his head, she whispered, "What are you doing?"

  He moved her hands out of the way and spread her legs even wider apart. She grabbed the back of her thighs and maneuvered her ass so he could go even deeper as he continued ravishing her pussy with his tongue. Over and over, he seemed to go back and forth, and just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, Jodie felt herself climaxing and the wetness pouring from deep within.

  "Ooooooohhhhh," she gasped, as papers flew all over the floor.

  "Yeah, baby," Coach Shaw whispered and it was then that she felt him enter her. Jodie gasped, both from pain and pleasure. He paused for a moment, as if to make sure she was okay, then continued taking her on the ride of her life. Her back arched and she grabbed the back of his neck, the rhythm of her stroke matching his. Her eyes fluttered open, and the look of intensity as he fucked her made her even wetter. In that moment, Jodie was in heaven. She was enjoying herself so much until all of a sudden, he stopped. Confused, she sat up on her elbows, wondering what was wrong.

  Coach Shaw backed up and sat in the chair and beckoned for her with his finger. Jodie jumped off the desk and straddled him, slowly lowering herself onto his welcoming dick. She rode him, slowly as he teased her nipples with his fingers and sucked on her neck. Faster and faster, her body went up and down, his hands now cupped the fullness of her ass until he told her, "I'm about to come."

  Jodie squeezed the inner walls of her now throbbing pussy and felt herself slowly erupting again. They came together and she buried her head into his chest, and she realized that he was still wearing his shirt and tie. Unable to control herself, Jodie began laughing.

  "What's so funny?" Coach Shaw asked, frowning.

  "You're still fully dressed from the waist up," she giggled.

  "I don't think you were worried about anything above the waist," he smiled.

  "You're right," she said, easing off him and gathering her clothes. She slowly opened the door and made sure the way was clear. Rushing into the nearby girls locker room, she washed up the best that she could and got dressed. By the time she returned to the office, Coach Shaw was wearing his pants and picking up papers off the floor.

  "Coach Shaw," she knocked on the door.

  "Mrs. Chapman," he said, facing her.

  "Jodie," she corrected him, "And it's Ms."

  "I stand corrected, Ms. Chapman."

  "My son is the best playe
r you've got," she told him, "He deserves the chance to do his thing on the court. You want your players to get some shine for the college scouts, let Baron play."

  "I appreciate your concern, Ms. Chapman, and I will take it into consideration."

  "That's all I ask," Jodie told him and walked out.

  "What took you so long?" Baron asked when she finally made it back to the car.

  "The janitor and I were looking for my phone," she said.

  Baron stared at her and asked, "Did you find it?"

  "No, I didn't," she pulled on her seatbelt and started the car, "I guess someone got it."

  "You wanted a new one anyway," Baron told her. His phone began ringing and he reached into his jacket pocket and took it out, "It's a text from Coach Shaw."

  "Really?" Jodie asked, "What does he want?"

  "He says be ready to practice twice as hard this week because I'm starting in next week's game. That's what's up!" Baron smiled.

  Jodie shook her head and thought of what had just transpired between she and the coach. If it hadn't been so good, she probably would've felt bad, but she knew that as talented as her son was, he had earned the starting spot. As they pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the street, there was the sound of another phone coming from the back seat. Jodie glanced over at her son, who was reaching for her purse.

  "Your phone is right here," he told her.

  "So, it is," she nodded, "It was right here all along."

  The Point of it All

  Prologue

  The Principal's Office

  "Amir, I'm waiting. Tell me where you got the gun," I stared into the dark eyes of the chubby-cheeked twelve-year-old-sitting in front of me. He looked more like he should be starring in his own television show on the Disney Channel; rather than sitting in my office because of a gun found in his locker.

  Amir didn't respond; he just stared at me, as he'd been doing for the past ten minutes.