"Oh my gahhh... he has the thighs of a thoroughbred."
As her friends giggled like little school girls over the coach, Jessica rolled her eyes. She was immune to his physique and charm. His chin chiseled out of granite and pectorals, which did its best to bust the seams of his shirt, had little-to-no effect on the proudly married woman. She had a thin, banana-shaped body: slim shoulders, a small bust, but her abs firm, athletic. Her dark hair, with slight hints of purple, was tied in a ponytail. She had a beautiful but ambiguous look to her, a natural tan that could pass for most ethnicities. And, full, pouty lips. She wore a dress jacket and business skirt, satchel under her arm. "Get your head out of the gutter. We here for our kids," Jessica playfully reminded them.
"Sure we are," Roxi, the tall blonde, uttered with little conviction, "but what's wrong with admiring that Greek god while we do so?"
Steph giggled but nodded, seconding her, "Come one, Jess, don't act like your eyes don't linger longer than they should."
Jessica flashed a sarcastic smile and bluntly said, "No. My husband is good enough for me."
"That's because you've never experienced anyone else..." Roxi mumbled.
Jessica softly swatted her friend's shoulder. "Excuse you?"
The short stubby Steph jumped in, adding her two cents, "She is right. You married James right after highschool and have been fuckin' the same guy for over ten years. I wonder what that's like?"
Jessica laughed but folded her arms, acting angered. "It's good. That's what it's like."
"You wouldn't know," Roxi stated, "basis of comparison and all."
"Well, I have an orgasm, so..." Jessica watched her son as he took the ball from the opposing team. She applauded and jumped up and down, cheering alongside her friends. As he passed it off, Jessica settled back down and said to her friends, "My sex life is great I'll have you know. James knows what he's doing."
"Like convulsively good?" Steph asked.
Jessica scoffed.
"What? You don't believe they can be that intense?" Steph furrowed her brow.
"Have you ever had one?" Jessica returned.
"Well... no."
"I bet that's what he was put on Earth to do," Roxi said, turning their attention back to the studly coach. She jokingly whimpered.
"What would Saul think if he heard you talking like that?" Jessica said in a laugh.
"Ah, fuck Saul. He's getting his with his secretary."
Jessica, along with Steph turned to her with matching shocked expressions.
"Don't look at me like that," Roxi continued. "They all do. It's about time we get our's as well ladies."
Jessica was taken aback. "Wow. Sorry to hear that. I didn't knoβ"
"Yes, you do." Roxi returned. "Deep down inside, we all know. What do you think James does on all those business trips?"
"Uh! Business," Jessica answered sharply.
"Okay. Okay." Roxi submitted her hands. "Is he on one agβ"
At that time, whistles and hollers interrupted their conversation. Fans, parents, and the kids themselves stormed the field as a fight ensued. The referees did their best to separate the wild fray.
Steph's mouth dropped. "Jess, is thatβ"
"Pete!" Jessica hurried after her son. Her heels dug into the soft soil causing her to wobble. She pushed her way through the parents and soccer kids before arriving at the center of the chaos.
Coach Ty had Pete by the arm while keeping a bloody-nosed kid from retaliating.
Jessica snatched her boy from the coach and said, "What happened here?"
"Were you not watching?" a man angrily asked. "My boy stole the ball, and your son socked him in the face."
"He tripped me, momma!" Pete uttered.
"Shhh! Pete!"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Tarver," Coach Ty said, "but this type of behavior is unacceptable."
"What? Come on. He loves soccer," Jessica pleaded. "This won't happen again. Promise you."
"Yeah. It won't." Coach Ty raised his hands in the air, calling off the game. He turned back to Jessica, saying, "I'm sorry... but no. He's out of the league."
"You need to teach that kid sportsmanship," the angry dad said, walking away with his kid in tow.
Jessica eyes enflamed. She sneered at him. Her face softened, however, before looking back down at her little boy. His eyes were sodden, chin quivering. He started to speak, explain himself in a blubber, but Jessica just hugged him. She could feel his tears against her neck. "It'll be alright. Momma, will figure something out."
In the distance, through the scattering crowd, Coach Ty was alone. He went about rounding up the balls and placing them in a huge elastic net. He gathered his clipboard and loaded the Gatorade jug in the back of his truck.
"Wait right here. Okay?" Jessica said. Her son nodded, wiping the tears from his eyes. Jessica kissed him on the cheek and marched toward Coach Ty.
He seemed to notice her as he climbed in his pickup truck and said, "There's nothing more to discuss."
"Listen, he's just a child, learning to harness his feelings," Jessica said. "We can't cast them out every time they mess up. Our job is to teach them."
"I have a zero tolerance for kids fighting." Ty revved his loud engine. "I'm sorry."
As he put the car in gear, Jessica reached inside his open window and grabbed the steering wheel. "So, you were a South High All-American, right?"
Ty nodded, with an estranged expression. "What's your point?"
"I was Warlington player of the year," Jessica boasted.
"And?"
"I'll play ya for it," Jessica challenged. "If I win, my son gets to play."
"And, what do I get out of this?" Ty asked.
Jessica shrugged. "Whatever you want."
"Whatever I want?" A sly grin showed upon his face.
Jessica could tell he had a dirty mind by the emphasis on the word 'whatever'. But, she felt confident in her skills, even though it had been nearly ten years since last lacing up in highschool. She nodded toward him. "Be here. Midnight."
***
The headlights from Jessica's Range Rover shone upon the field, highlighting her as she took practice kicks at the net. She was suited in shin-guards, held in place by knee-high socks, and cleats. She wore fly-by shorts and a Powerpuff Girls tee.
"Where is Pete?" a voice asked.
Jessica didn't even acknowledge the coach. She was busy warming her leg up. She kicked, and it slightly bent into the net, lacking the curve of her past. "My folks are keeping him tonight. Said I had some important tax forms to work on."
"So, what are we doing?"
Jessica retrieved her ball with an athletic strut. She roughly shoved it into Ty's chest, saying, "First to three?"
Ty simpered. "Listen, about what I said earlier, about, you know, 'whatever'..."
"You're not going to beat me," Jessica brazenly uttered, "so it doesn't matter."
"Okay..." Ty replied. "Don't say I didn't give you a way out."
Jessica flouted his remark with a snicker.
"Here." Ty laid the ball on the ground and took a defensive position. "I'll let you take it out."
"You'll never get it back." Jessica placed her cleat on the ball. "Go!"
Jessica was fast, fluid. She did an inside touch, then a scissor motion using the same foot. The trick caught Ty off-guard and he stumbled over his own feet. She cruised by him and scored. She collected the ball once again, and as she passed him, said, "Don't break an ankle."
Ty puckered his lips and nodded, giving her that one.
They reset and started again. Jessica drove to the left side hard. She planted her foot and pivoted. The momentum carried Ty past her, leaving her open for another goal. She flung her arms in the air. "One more and you're done, big boy. I expected at least a little competition."
"It ain't over yet, sweet thang," Ty replied.
"I ain't your sweet thang," Jessica barked.
"I'll be callin' ya worse after I win."
Jessica placed the ball at the starting point and responded with a chuckle, "Oh, this win will be so sweet."
As she set her cleat on the ball, Ty quickly stole it out from under her and darted to the goal, scoring. Jessica never even moved. Her were hands on her hips, her glower showing disapproval with the cheap tactic.