Trevor looked around the sparse room, and wondered if the coach believed in decorating. The white walls were glaringly plain
and Trevor hated them. If he could find a way to get to his house, maybe he'd bring some of his personal belongings to spruce
things up a bit.
Trevor turned as he heard footsteps behind him. Jessie turned towards her own room, across from his and opened the door. She
didn't look at him or speak to him. He'd been here for almost two weeks now and the damn woman hadn't spoken to him at all.
He wondered if she had any idea how sexy she looked standing there in a pair of running shorts, and a tight as hell tank top
that showed her sexy flat stomach.
Trevor watched as she moved to the stereo she purchased last week and flipped it on. Aerosmith's "Rag Doll" blared out of
the speakers. He watched her hips sway to the beat. Cursing his instant erection, he walked closer to her. She spun around
and caught him in midstep in the hallway. Their eyes locked and he watched the play of emotions on her face. Fascination warred
with outrage as they stared at each other for long moments. Taking a few graceful steps towards the door, Trevor felt like
he was in a dream. Her steps looked as if they were in slow motion, it seemed to take forever for her to reach the room's
entrance. Trevor took another step and opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped short when the door slammed loudly in his
Trevor could have sworn he saw the walls shake with the force of it. He wondered if she was ever going to forgive him for
the crack he made in the locker room and just be civil to him. Shaking his head, he sighed and walked towards the kitchen.
A grunt was his only reply. Trevor pulled up a chair and watched the coach as he studied the roster for the game that night.
"Does she have to play that damn music so loud?"
Trevor looked at the coach. He really didn't think the music was all that loud, but he supposed when you lived alone, you
got used to quiet. Trevor couldn't stop himself from asking,
"Coach, why do you act like you hate her?"
Trevor held his breath as he watched his Coach slowly lower the paper he held in his hand and look up at him.
"I don't hate her."
Trevor raised an eyebrow, "Don't you think you should tell her that? In two weeks you've hardly spoken to her, when you do
it's to yell at her for one thing or another."
Coach's face turned red and Trevor wondered if he'd gone to far.
"Look Coach, I don't mean to be nosy. But staying here I can't help but notice some things. I don't know your personal situation,
but I respect you as my coach and feel I've known you long enough that I can speak openly."
Coach studied him silently. Trevor didn't think he was going to speak. Rising he went to the refrigerator and used his good
arm to pull out a container of orange juice. As he reached for a glass, the coach spoke quietly from behind him.
"I was young when I married her mother. Melody was beautiful and sweet, everything I ever dreamed of. Back then I played for
the Hornets and she had stars in her eyes."
Trevor put the juice back in the refrigerator and sat back down across from Coach Kirk. He'd never seen the coach look so
defeated. He looked like he was going to cry, and Trevor wished he hadn't opened this particular can of worms.
Coach continued, "Back then I was just Dan Kirk, the up and coming rookie. My career could have gone either way, but as it
happened I got better and better. The more prestigious my career became, the more money I made, you know the drill."
Trevor nodded as he watched the man across from him search for an explanation.
"Time at home became less and less frequent and she resented me for that. That's when she really became materialistic and
self serving. She didn't love me anymore, but was more than happy to sit back and spend my money."
Coach rose and walked to the window. As he stared out at the expansive yard in the back of his house, Trevor wondered if he
would go on.
"When she got pregnant, I thought it was perfect. Maybe it would restore my marriage and I'd finally have the child I dreamed
of having. When she had Jessie, I adored her. The first year of her life was the greatest year of my life."
Trevor wondered what happened, but he didn't want to ask. Coach took a ragged breath and quietly said,
"Then one day I came home from practice with a sprained wrist. Much to my surprise I caught her in bed with my supposed best
friend, Grant Abrams. Naturally, I was angry and we had a huge fight. She told me she was leaving me, but the real knife to
the heart was when she told me that Jessie wasn't mine."
Trevor felt bad for the coach. He took a deep breath, not sure what he should say.
"Maybe I could have dealt with it if Grant had been her father, but Melody admitted she'd had more than one lover and she
wasn't quite sure who her father was."
"Oh my God." Trevor said.
Coach Kirk moved back to the table and sat down with his head in his hands.
"I told her I didn't care, I wanted to keep my daughter. I loved her, that first year of her life meant the world to me. After
a month of arguing, Melody told me that if I fought her, she would tell the courts, our friends and family, the media, everyone
Trevor felt bad for the man. In a small gesture of comfort, he placed his hand on his shoulder.
"I was young and stupid at the time. I didn't want any bad publicity, which would affect my career. So I let her go with the
stipulation that I get to see her and she'd never be told I wasn't her father. Melody allowed me one month during the summer.
Not much time to bond with a child."
A bitter laugh escaped the coach and Trevor could feel the bitterness that oozed off the man.
"In time I became bitter, I guess that bitterness got transferred to Jessie. Now, I'm old, set in my ways and have lived for
the game for so long. I don't know how to get close her now?"
Trevor met the Coach's eyes and felt uncomfortable at the wealth of emotion there. He rose and patted the coach on the shoulder.
"Maybe you could try talking to her instead of yelling at her." Dan Kirk looked up at him and shook his head.
"What do I say?"
Trevor shrugged, "I don't know, maybe just open the door for her to start."
With that Trevor walked out of the kitchen. His heart went out to Coach Kirk and his Daughter. How could his wife do something
so completely heartless? As he walked down the hall towards his room, he stopped and stared at the closed door in front of
him. Eminem blared from the speakers of her stereo. An odd compulsion to make an effort to get to know her made him knock
on the door. As he stood there waiting for her to answer, he felt stupid. What business was it of his anyway? Maybe it had
something to do with the haunted look in her eyes and the perpetual frown she always wore. He wanted to see her smile, and
damn it he wanted to be the one to put that smile there.
Maybe it was because he was used to women falling at his feet, not slamming doors in his face. What else did he have to do
with his time? As the door opened he looked into the seriously irritated face of the woman he had been thinking about. He
smiled a bright smile.
"Hi Jessie, Can I come in?"
The door slammed in his face before he could finish the question. This might be harder than he thought, but he was up for