Entwined - SF5 (20 page)

"I think you’re being a little generous," Ryan chuckled, but her cheeks reddened just a bit at the compliment.

"No, not at all," the woman enthused. "I was after Mary all last year to call you and see if you wanted to try out this year. Once we heard you were going to play volleyball, we decided to see if you’d consider two sports."

"Thanks," Ryan said, beaming a happy smile at the warm welcome. "I hope you still feel that way after I’ve worked out."

"No worries on my part," she said with a smile. "You can hoop!"

Coach Hayes was clearly running the show, and she decided to have Ryan show her defensive skills first. The head coach stood in the center of the floor and watched closely as the two young assistants played two on one with Ryan. They spent almost 15 minutes banging against her as they tried to score, with Jamie marveling as she watched her lover move fluidly around the court. Ryan seemed to know how to move her feet to keep her position between the scorer and the basket, moving easily when she chose, but absolutely refusing to be moved involuntarily. No matter how often or how hard the assistants slammed into her, she maintained her poise and her position.

On three separate occasions Ryan easily stole the ball from the other players. She would give them a half smile and gently toss it back to them, daring them to come at her again. Her hands were very quick as she slapped at the ball as they tried to dribble past her, but her quick feet were what really distinguished her. She just seemed to know which way her opponents would turn, even when they were in the air. She was never truly burned by a head fake, because once she started to fall for one she had the ability to correct her mistake and regroup. After one such play, the taller of the two assistants slammed the ball down hard, letting it bounce the length of the floor in a slowly descending arc. At this subtle signal of termination, all three bent over at the waist, gasping for breath.
She must be dying if she's showing this much
, Jamie thought with alarm, knowing that Ryan hated to show others that she was physically stressed.

To Jamie’s displeasure, the coach only allowed Ryan a few moments to catch her breath before she told her to run 50 full-court drives. With nary a word of protest, Ryan jogged to the end of the court, accepted the inbounds pass from Lynette and began to dribble it the length of the court while being guarded by both defenders. The point of the game was to stop and shoot over both women while making as many baskets as possible, of course. She missed as many as she made, but Jamie was terribly impressed by her ball handling skills as well as her shooting style. The coaches were clearly giving this exercise everything they had, and they were very aggressive in defending against Ryan. Jamie thought it was fantastic that she made any baskets at all given the relentless pressure she faced.

After another 15 minutes of this torture, the assistants flopped down on the bench to rest. Ryan grabbed a bottle of Gatorade and chugged it, looking over at Jamie and giving her a cocky wink. As soon as she was hydrated, she was told to stay in the key and take jump shots. This was normally not a problem, but she had to get her own rebounds. Jamie's eyes grew wide as she watched her set, shoot and run all in one fluid motion. She made at least 75% of her shots, but when she missed, she went after the rebound with a vengeance, showing nothing but a blur of motion for another 15 minutes. After a while, it hurt just to watch as her straining body ran continuously. Her bangs hung limply in her eyes, and even though her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, it stuck to her neck and shoulders. She wiped the sweat from her eyes every time she had the chance, but it was clear from her red-rimmed eyes that they were burning from the salt. Finally, the coach told her to stop, but rather than give her a rest, she immediately asked her to shoot free throws.

Wordlessly, Ryan stood on the free throw line and took a few deep breaths. She wiped the sweat from her eyes again and bent a bit at the knees as she dribbled the ball three times. She shot so many free throws that Jamie lost count. She did, however, have Ryan's free throw routine completely memorized. Each shot was a carbon copy of the previous one. She grabbed the ball from Coach Dix, who was snagging rebounds, and held it with both hands close to her waist. She wiped her eyes with the back of her left hand, and then dribbled three times with that same hand. She held the ball in both hands again, this time higher on her chest. One deep breath, a slight bend at the knee, and the ball was launched with the same fluid push, again and again. As the ball slid through the net her shooting hand would bend at the wrist with her fingers pointing towards the floor. Jamie was fascinated to see that on the rare shot that failed to hit its mark, the hand did not drop. It was obvious that Ryan knew whether the shot was good or not immediately upon release, and the little hand motion was her own unconscious way of signaling that the shot was good.

After a terribly long time Coach Hayes asked Ryan to come out to the three-point line. The fatigued woman actually asked for a moment to grab another bottle of Gatorade, which once again surprised Jamie. The Coach nodded and Ryan slugged a whole bottle down, not even stopping to breathe between gulps. There was no confident little wink this time, as Ryan didn’t even turn in Jamie’s direction. She did, however, grab a towel that one of the assistants tossed to her and wipe her face and arms thoroughly to remove the sweat before trotting back onto the court.

When she took her position again, Jamie noticed that Coach Hayes had positioned five rolling ball racks along the three-point line. Each rack held six balls, and as Ryan looked up at her, Coach informed her, "This is a little drill we do in practice. Start at either end you choose, but you need to go through the racks in order. You get one point for each one you make. It pays to work on your three pointers," she said with a chuckle. "The winner doesn’t have to run sprints after practice," she informed her with her first genuine smile of the day.

Ryan returned her smile a bit cautiously and walked over to the rack on the right side of the basket. "Oh, did I mention that you only get three minutes?" Coach Hayes added innocently.

One graceful eyebrow rose one half of an inch but it was enough for Jamie to realize that her lover was being challenged.
Look out
, she thought to herself.
She’s gonna kick ass on this one.

Kick ass she did. As Ryan picked up the first ball, Jamie looked at the big clock on the wall with the sweep second hand. Ryan flew through the first rack, trying to get comfortable. She only made two, but as she ran to the next rack her eyes were fiercely focused on the basket. This time she made six of six and Jamie almost jumped in the air and shouted her approval. Three of six fell from the top of the key, four of six from the next rack, and as Ryan got to the last rack, she paused for the first time and set herself fully. Even though Jamie was sure she could not see the clock, Ryan seemed to know that she had time to do this set carefully. Swoosh! The first ball slid in so easily that it looked like it did not even touch the net on the way through. Five more swooshes followed, giving the smiling woman 21 points.

The coach was obviously satisfied as she broke into her second smile of the day and slapped Ryan on the back. Jamie could hear the wet "plop!" all the way over where she was sitting, a good 30 feet away. The other coaches all came up and slapped her in a similar fashion.
What's with all the slapping?
she thought irritably.
That skin is sensitive…and it belongs to me!

She was too far away to hear exactly what they were saying, but it was clear that they were pleased and impressed with Ryan's performance. Ryan smiled and chatted for a few more minutes before she jogged over to Jamie. "How'd I do?" she asked with a wan grin.

Regarding Ryan’s wet hair, the nylon clothes literally stuck to her body, and the sweat dripping from the tips of her fingers, Jamie said, "Hold on a sec," and trotted over to the departing coaches.

She caught up with them just as they were exiting the court, speaking for just a few moments and pointing at Ryan, who rolled her eyes in embarrassment. She nodded and ran back, grinning at her with a shy little smile. "They're going to let you use the whirlpool and the showers. They said to meet them in the locker room. I'm going to the bookstore to buy you some dry shorts and a shirt."

"But..." Ryan started to say, but was cut off.

"Go on. The coaches are going to shower too. If they had any doubts about the shape you're in, you can dispel them as soon as you strip." She pushed Ryan in their direction as she gave her a hard slap on the butt. When her lover whirled to glare at her, she innocently remarked, "I'm just trying to be one of the girls."

It was seven o’clock by the time Ryan was loose enough to climb out of the Jacuzzi and put on the dry clothes that Jamie had left for her. She emerged from the locker room and was surprised to find a note on the door that said. "Come to room 115 at Haas" in her lover’s handwriting. Walking through the labyrinth of offices in the brand-new complex, she finally found the correct suite. Several offices ran along the back wall of the large space and room 115 was clearly marked as the office of "Lynette Dix, Assistant Head Basketball Coach."

Ryan poked her dark head into the office to find Jamie chatting with the coach in an animated, friendly fashion. "Hi, Hon," Jamie called out when she caught sight of her lover.

"Hi, yourself," she grinned as she grabbed a chair.

"I believe I’m being cross-examined," the older woman said to Ryan with a twinkle in her eyes.

"She does that to everyone, Coach, don’t let her intimidate you," Ryan said with a fond grin in the direction of her partner.

"I’d prefer it if you’d call me Lynette ," the older woman said.

"No problem," Ryan said happily. "So what’s going on here?"

"I didn’t like the vibes I was getting from Coach Hayes, and Lynette here seemed really approachable," Jamie informed her. "I thought I’d see if she would give me the straight story, since I knew you wouldn’t ask." She made this last statement with a pair of rolling eyes in the direction of her lover.

"I see," Ryan said thoughtfully. "And what did you find out, my little detective?"

"I think Jamie has some legitimate concerns," Lynette informed Ryan with a somber look on her face. "Mary does come across as being rather gruff and unyielding. I wish I could tell you that was an act, but it really isn’t. Mary is a true perfectionist, and she most definitely likes things done her way."

"Well, she is the coach," Ryan reasoned.

"She certainly is, and she likes her players to remember that," she said firmly. "If you’re looking for a place to play ‘playground style,’ this isn’t it. She likes a very formal, set offense, and she wants defense to be the most important part of the game. I honestly think she’d be happy if we won a game by a score of two to nothing!"

"That doesn’t bother me," Ryan said easily. "I like to score, but I love to play defense, and I can play on the playground any time I want with my family. I’d like to play on a nice, organized team."

"One other big thing," Lynette said slowly. "Coach Hayes doesn’t like to spend much time with the players on a personal level. If you need a lot of handholding, or a lot of feedback, you will not get it from her. She’s more like the general of a small army going into battle. She wants to come up with the game plan, and then she wants the assistants to implement it and get the troops ready to fight. When we go into battle she leads us, but it’s all according to the game plan. She’d rather lose and stick to the plan than win by having the players be creative."

Ryan leaned back in her chair and considered the coach’s words. "Are you this honest with all of your recruits?" she asked with a small smile. "’Cause if you are, I don’t see how you get five women to sign up!"

Lynette laughed at Ryan’s observation and said, "No, I’m not usually this honest. But you’re an adult, Ryan, and you’re not doing this for the same reason most of the girls are. I know you want to play to have fun and compete–that’s obviously the kind of woman you are. I just hate to see you devote a lot of time to this if it’s not going to satisfy your needs."

"I’m betting you have more personnel problems than you know what to do with, don’t you?" Ryan asked perceptively.

"Weeeeell," she drawled with a big grin, "I wouldn’t say it’s the happiest place on earth right now."

"You didn’t lose many players to graduation," Ryan reasoned, "I’d think things would be on the upswing, assuming your freshmen turn out to be as talented as I’m reading about."

Lynette smiled at this and said, "The
Daily Californian
only knows what we tell them about our freshmen, Ryan. As you know, everybody who plays at the Division 1 level was a very good player in high school. But this is a big leap in class, and we never know how a player will adjust."

"So what do you think your chances are of being competitive?"

Lynette thought for a minute and decided to be completely honest. "They’d be much improved with you, Ryan. We don’t have a consistent scorer at forward, and our defense was pretty poor last year. That’s usually the last thing a freshman learns, so without you, I think we’ll be near the cellar again."

"Winning is always important to me," Ryan admitted, "but it’s not my primary motivation for playing. I like to challenge myself, and helping a poor team become better would be exciting for me." She leveled a gaze at Lynette and asked the question that would have a very large impact on her decision. "One big question. Will I have a problem being open about my relationship with Jamie?"