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Chatter floated about the gym as cheerleaders filtered in, gathering on the mat in the center to gossip, stretch, and complain about the early hour. You sat on your usual folding chair in front of them all, scribbling out notes for the choreography you were working on. An average Monday by all means.
“How was your weekend, coach?” Marissa’s perky voice cut through the noise and you looked up from your clipboard and smiled, “It was good, thank you. My husband and I saw Edward Scissorhands.”
"What?” Cindy added, “I work at the movie theater, I did not see you guys!”
You reluctantly sat down your pen and sighed, “We were visiting a friend a few towns over, so we went to a different theater,” you laughed and examined the girls staring intently at you, “I promise I’m not hiding him from you guys.”
"Sure seems like it," Cindy grumbled, then returned to her stretching.
“Alright, alright,” you stood, “Time for practice, girls.”
“I bet he looks like Leo.”
“No way, he’s totally a Patrick Swayze.”
“So we all agree he’s blonde?”
The group giggled, and you perked your head up from your desk, “What are you girls talking about?”
They looked at each other expectantly before Lisa spoke up, “We’re debating what we think your husband is like.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Oh? Do tell.”
“He’s for sure blonde,” Cindy stated, “And I bet he’s a member of a country club.”
You snorted to yourself. Eddie? Blonde? Country club?
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Coach, but you do cheerleading . In Hawkins . There’s no way he’s anything but a blonde, polo-shirt-wearing, golfer.”
“ I think he’s brunette,” Emily stated matter-of-factly, “And since you haven’t told us what his job is, I think he works in a library.”
It just kept getting better and better.
“He’s a brunette,” you relented, leaning back in your chair, “And he’s a musician.”
A chorus of ooooh’s sounded and you smiled mischeviously, “That’s all you’re getting for today. Come on, get to class.”
They groaned and filtered out of your office, leaving with a chorus of ‘ Bye, Coach .’
“Hey, Coach,” Cindy called, sipping on her water bottle, “How’d you meet your husband?”
You feigned a sigh. Leave it to them to try and start this again with five minutes left in practice, “We met here.”
“At Hawkins High?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, “I told you guys I cheered here, right?”
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell us you met your freaking husband here. Oh my god,” Lisa swooned, fanning herself, “High school sweethearts. That’s so romantic.”
They were good kids. You remembered when you had been in their shoes, and smiled to yourself. Back when the status quo was so much more rigid, and you and Eddie were forced to sneak around, meeting in empty hallways and dark bedrooms.
You rolled your eyes but smiled, “We were. We got married about two years ago, my second year of college.”
“Why’d you wait?” Cindy asked, and you remembered she was in a similar position you had been – senior year of high school with a steady boyfriend.
“He said he wanted to wait until he could afford to buy me, and I quote, ‘ the biggest rock he could find .’”
You heard a mix of awwhhs and ooohs as they shuffled closer to examine the rock in question.
“Hot damn, he did find it,” Emily whistled.
You gave her a look she recognized as ‘Language, please,’ and continued.
“He did,” you smiled, “And he just asked me one day, out of the blue. I think we were making pancakes when he proposed.”
More awwhhs .
You glanced at your watch and announced, “Alright, it’s 5, girls. You’re officially free to go.”
It was the last practice before school let out for spring break, and the girls were restless as they warmed up.
“Got any fun plans over the break, Coach?” Marissa, ever the sweetheart, asked as she worked on her splits.
“A little further, honey, I know you got it,” you knelt before her and corrected the position of her foot, “And as a matter of fact, I do. My husband and I are visiting some friends in California.”
There it was – the H-word that made everyone’s ears perk up.
“I need details, please,” Lisa requested from where she stood, held aloft by Amy and Jennifer.
You quickly adjusted one of Amy’s arms before you relented, taking a breath, “Some friends from high school just had a baby. They moved out there right after we graduated, and Eddie and I haven’t seen them since.”
“ His name is Eddie ,” Cindy exclaimed, mouth ajar.
“That it is,” you mused, “Come on down, Lisa, let’s wrap up practice for today.”
“His name is Eddie, he’s a musician, and he’s brunette,” Jennifer exclaimed, “This is big news, people.”
“I can just imagine him,” Marissa smiled, “I bet he’s all charming and suave like Gregory Peck.”
You fought the urge to correct them, thoroughly enjoying just how wrong they were, “Anything else?”
“He wears sweater vests,” Amy said.
“He plays golf every weekend.”
“His hair is always perfect.”
“He only wears suits.”
“And Ralph Lauren!”
“Hmm,” you nodded slowly, a grin creeping across your face.
“We’re totally right,” Cindy nudged Lisa, smirking at you.
“1, 2, 3, 4,” you counted, clapping your hands as the girls moved into perfectly practiceed formations, forming pyramids and flipping out of them.
“.. and 1,” you concluded, smiling broadly as they landed in their final poses, all breathing hard, “Excellent job girls, really excellent. We just need to work on the bas–”
The gym door creaked open, stopping you mid sentence, and you whipped around. You heard the girls behind you all still as a man strode in, clad in black jeans and leather.
You fought the urge to smile and said in your best teacher voice, “Can I help you?”
Eddie grinned as he made his way to you, brown paper bag cradled carefully in one hand, “You forgot your lunch.”
He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek as he handed the bag to you.
“And you are interrupting practice,” you scolded, giving him a chaste kiss.
Eddie had the widest, shit-eating grin you had ever seen, “Oh, I do apologize, Mrs. Munson.”
“Holy shit, that’s your husband?!” Lisa exclaimed, gaping.
You imagined what they must be seeing – their girl-next-door, ponytail wearing, all-american cheer coach cuddled up with a metalhead with wild hair, ripped jeans, and jewelry glinting off all of his fingers.
Eddie’s grin widened and he slid an arm around your waist, “The one and only.”
You looked at the group of girls, mouths hung open in surprise and laughed, “What can I say, Gregory Peck was never my type.”
"I have so many questions." Cindy declared.
"And they can wait until after practice," you gave her a pointed look, and squeezed Eddie's side, "Thank you for my lunch. I love you, I'll see you at home."
"Alright, alright," Eddie held up a hand in surrender, "See you later, sweetheart. I love you."
He kissed you again and gave your waist one last squeeze before waving goodbye to the starstruck team and striding back out the doors.
When you turned around, you sighed at the expectant faces. Half the team looked like their jaw might unhinge, the others looked like their head might explode if they didn't get answers.
"You're not going to do the routine until I answer your questions, are you?"