Read Online One True Theory of Love by Laura Fitzgerald - Free Book Online
Authors: Laura Fitzgerald
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Bad News Bears, he performed great. Several times, he emerged from a pileup of kids with the ball and twice he scored. The quarter ended with the other team up, 5-2. Red-faced and sweaty-haired, Henry ran over to gulp from his water bottle.
“Excellent job, Henry,” Meg said. “You’re playing very well.”
“Did you see my goals?”
“Absolutely, I did. Didn’t you hear me cheering?” Meg waited for Henry to acknowledge Ahmed’s presence, but he gulped and gulped from his water bottle and completely ignored him.
“ Pssst, Mr. Self-Absorbed,” she said. “Can you say hello to Ahmed, please? He just happened to be jogging by.” She gave Ahmed a friendly smirk.
“I knew you’d come,” Henry said to him. “Did you see my goals?”
“Hi,” Ahmed said.
Finally chagrined, Henry smiled. “Hi.”
“I did see your goals,” Ahmed said. “I was very impressed. I was telling your mom that your fearlessness is going to take you far in life. And you know what? If you played halfback, you could probably stop numbers five and eight from the other team. Those are the real tough guys.”
“Coach Debbie told me to play forward,” Henry said.
“No one else is playing his position,” Ahmed pointed out. “They’re running around all bunched up wherever the ball goes.”
“Thank you!” Henry said. “That’s what I keep telling them: stay in your stupid positions. I don’t know why it’s so hard for them to get it right. It’s not that hard.”
“Henry’s on a bit of a tight leash with the coach,” Meg said.
“I wouldn’t exactly call her a coach,” Henry said.
Ahmed laughed. Meg did, too, for while disrespectful, his sense of comic timing was impeccable. Besides, it was true. Coach Debbie wasn’t much of a coach.
When the whistle blew, Henry ran back to his teammates. Meg finally felt composed enough to invite Ahmed to join her on the blanket.
“Henry, you’re still in,” they overheard Coach Debbie say. “But I expect you to pass more this quarter.”
Ahmed, who’d been casually leaning back on his arms and stretching his legs in front of him, now tilted toward Meg. “Who’s he supposed to pass to?” His lips grazed her hair as he spoke confidentially in her ear.
Electric.
“Be nice.” Meg leaned against him ever so slightly as she murmured back, “They’re doing the best they can.”
“They need a better coach.” He said it seductively, so seductively in fact that what Meg heard was, I want to make love to you right here, right now.
“Oh my God,” Meg said, blushing. “What did you just say?”
Ahmed tilted his head at her in curiosity. “I said they need a better coach.”
She burst out laughing. “I thought you said something else.”
“What’d you think I said?” It was an invitation, the way he asked.
“I’m not telling.” But she did tell him, with her eyes. And she could tell he understood what she was intimating, or something close enough, because he chuckled, pleased.
“Pass it! Pass it! ” Coach Debbie’s screeching voice interrupted them. Her scream was directed at Henry.
Ahmed frowned. “He’s got an open path to the goal.”
“They really do need a better coach,” Meg said.
“Pass it!” Coach Debbie’s face was blistering red.
“Pass to me! I’m open! To me! To me!” It was Bradley, who indeed was open, but Meg knew what Henry was thinking. If he passed to Bradley, it would be intercepted because Bradley waited for the ball to come to him, and there were plenty of kids from the other team who could easily get in the ball’s path before it did.
Meg could see Henry’s hesitation as he went against his better instincts and passed the ball to Bradley. Sure enough, it was intercepted.
“Bad pass,” Catherine said loudly to the other parents.
“This is ridiculous,” Ahmed said.
The other team scored. Henry kicked the ground. Almost immediately after the kickoff, he again got possession of the ball from midfield and Meg
“Excellent job, Henry,” Meg said. “You’re playing very well.”
“Did you see my goals?”
“Absolutely, I did. Didn’t you hear me cheering?” Meg waited for Henry to acknowledge Ahmed’s presence, but he gulped and gulped from his water bottle and completely ignored him.
“ Pssst, Mr. Self-Absorbed,” she said. “Can you say hello to Ahmed, please? He just happened to be jogging by.” She gave Ahmed a friendly smirk.
“I knew you’d come,” Henry said to him. “Did you see my goals?”
“Hi,” Ahmed said.
Finally chagrined, Henry smiled. “Hi.”
“I did see your goals,” Ahmed said. “I was very impressed. I was telling your mom that your fearlessness is going to take you far in life. And you know what? If you played halfback, you could probably stop numbers five and eight from the other team. Those are the real tough guys.”
“Coach Debbie told me to play forward,” Henry said.
“No one else is playing his position,” Ahmed pointed out. “They’re running around all bunched up wherever the ball goes.”
“Thank you!” Henry said. “That’s what I keep telling them: stay in your stupid positions. I don’t know why it’s so hard for them to get it right. It’s not that hard.”
“Henry’s on a bit of a tight leash with the coach,” Meg said.
“I wouldn’t exactly call her a coach,” Henry said.
Ahmed laughed. Meg did, too, for while disrespectful, his sense of comic timing was impeccable. Besides, it was true. Coach Debbie wasn’t much of a coach.
When the whistle blew, Henry ran back to his teammates. Meg finally felt composed enough to invite Ahmed to join her on the blanket.
“Henry, you’re still in,” they overheard Coach Debbie say. “But I expect you to pass more this quarter.”
Ahmed, who’d been casually leaning back on his arms and stretching his legs in front of him, now tilted toward Meg. “Who’s he supposed to pass to?” His lips grazed her hair as he spoke confidentially in her ear.
Electric.
“Be nice.” Meg leaned against him ever so slightly as she murmured back, “They’re doing the best they can.”
“They need a better coach.” He said it seductively, so seductively in fact that what Meg heard was, I want to make love to you right here, right now.
“Oh my God,” Meg said, blushing. “What did you just say?”
Ahmed tilted his head at her in curiosity. “I said they need a better coach.”
She burst out laughing. “I thought you said something else.”
“What’d you think I said?” It was an invitation, the way he asked.
“I’m not telling.” But she did tell him, with her eyes. And she could tell he understood what she was intimating, or something close enough, because he chuckled, pleased.
“Pass it! Pass it! ” Coach Debbie’s screeching voice interrupted them. Her scream was directed at Henry.
Ahmed frowned. “He’s got an open path to the goal.”
“They really do need a better coach,” Meg said.
“Pass it!” Coach Debbie’s face was blistering red.
“Pass to me! I’m open! To me! To me!” It was Bradley, who indeed was open, but Meg knew what Henry was thinking. If he passed to Bradley, it would be intercepted because Bradley waited for the ball to come to him, and there were plenty of kids from the other team who could easily get in the ball’s path before it did.
Meg could see Henry’s hesitation as he went against his better instincts and passed the ball to Bradley. Sure enough, it was intercepted.
“Bad pass,” Catherine said loudly to the other parents.
“This is ridiculous,” Ahmed said.
The other team scored. Henry kicked the ground. Almost immediately after the kickoff, he again got possession of the ball from midfield and Meg
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