I wouldn’t be here at all if attendance had been optional. The less time I have to spend around any of these tossers outside of the one job I came here to do, the better.
Sighing, I run my fingers through my hair and sit back, waiting for her to spit out whatever it is she’s dragged us here for.
I’ve been here only a week, so this dynamic she’s got with the team is something I’m still trying to wrap my head around. I’m trying to figure out why Coach allows it. I don’t understand it. Why she’s so involved and why everyone seems to put her on some kind of pedestal. It seems like everywhere I look, she’s there.
“I know you’re probably all wondering why we asked you to come in on an off day,” she starts, her piercing gaze slipping around the room, pausing briefly when it lands on me. “I think it’s pretty obvious we’ve been having a bit of a… rough start and that’s okay. It’s a big transition for everyone, I get it, and we were prepared for that. But we clearly need to work on team bonding. That’s the place to start. Therefore…” She trails off as she looks over at Coach, who gives her a brief nod. “We’re having an all-day clinic today that’s going to focus on trust-building and team-bonding exercises.”
The entire room erupts in a series of pained groans.
I sigh, crossing my arms over my chest.
Just what I wanted. To spend my only off day with these arseholes who clearly don’t want shit to do with me as much as I want to do with them. They’ve made that abundantly clear.
Going out of their way to push me out of pitch play, talking shit every time the coaching staff is out of earshot, or ignoring me altogether.
Which I prefer.
All I want to do is play rugby. To finish these two years out at this damn school and go back home. Play for the Premiership.
But the only way I’ll end up with a contract is by playing for a team where a scout can see me.
I know that I’m good.
But if I’m not on a pitch then my chances of that are gone.
I don’t want to bond. I don’t want to work on team building. I want to get in and getout.
Unlike the rest of the team, I stay quiet, keeping my thoughts to myself because I’m in no position to complain about today’sactivities. Truthfully, I’d rather take a hit right to the balls than work on some bullshit exercises that aren’t going to make anything better.
Forcing us together isn’t going to solve this problem, but I’ll let her figure that out on her own.
“Look, I get it. It’s not something you want to do on your only off day. But let’s be real, it’s necessary and you all know it as much as we do,” she says as she crosses her arms over her chest, trapping the clipboard against it. Her navy-blue V-neck dips slightly with the movement, exposing the pale creamy swell of her tits. Which I ignore because that’s the last bloody thing I need to be noticing.
The very last.
“Rory, please for the love of God don’t do this to us.” One of the guys in the back of the room groans loudly. “I’m begging you.”
Her dark brow arches, and that sticky sweet smile returns. She doesn’t look the least bit sorry for the torture I know is coming our way. Apparently the one thing we can all agree on is that we don’t want to be around each other.
“Sorry, but it’s happening,” she responds. “Get your gear and put your game faces on.”
Coach St. James steps forward when a chorus of murmurs ring throughout the room, a serious expression on his face as he says, “I expect everyone to give it their best today. I know it’s not a normal practice day, but I support everything that Rory said up here. I’m giving the reins to her on this because it was her idea and you all know how much I value my daughter’s feedback, and I know that you do as well. This is necessary for our team development, and I know that you’re committed to making this year the best, most successful year we’ve had. Go gear up, let’s do this.”
He dismisses everyone with that, and the guys begin to file out of the room, most of them still muttering and complaining under their breath.
Not that it’ll do any good because obviously this pointless clinic is happening whether we like it or not.
And I’m quickly beginning to realize that Rory St. James has this entire team wrapped around her finger and I haven’t the slightest ideawhy.
“Today’s team-building exercise will be fairly simple. You’re going to split into two groups, a mix of forwards and backs, then run through an obstacle course relay. The first team over the finish line wins,” Rory says, standing next to her father and Coach Matthews. She’s got a bright yellow lanyard around her neck with a shiny whistle attached, and I already know she’s going to blow the damn thing until our ears bleed.
She’s on a mission. I can see the defiance in her eyes, and the way she’s squared her shoulders as if she’s prepared for an impending battle.
One that there’s no doubt she’s going to lose.
“Every station requires collaboration, which means you’re going to have to worktogetherif you want to succeed. Much like you have to do on the pitch,” Coach St. James says. “You will need to lean on your teammates and communicate with each other. While this is Rory’s exercise, I did suggest that we…up the ante—make sure you guys are really invested in being thewinning team. Losing team will run a Bronco.Beforeyou leave the practice facility today.”
Bloody fucking hell.
