Katrien has a bigger appetite than usual

On the walk home, side by side, the two coaches politely joke about their student experiences, like the clumsiness of growing bodies on full display in their gyms and out on the fields. The awkwardness of young love and absolute terrifying faces of determination the students exhibit. The two laugh and giggle, and Katrien is so very thankful to have a friend, and a mentor to be open with. She realizes she might be sharing too much, but feeling a little giddy, mentions that her wife doesn't quite understand the intricacies and stress of dealing with a group of thirty or so teenagers, whether they're respectful or not. "I love my job, Bill, I really do. But how do you unwind from a day, no, a week of all that turmoil?" She laughs at turmoil. "Girls are a lot, boys have to be something else!"

A short bark of a laugh burst out. "Yes, there are moments. And then there are...Moments." Their pace slows and he reaches into a pocket and fumbles for his keys. "I think you'll be only temporarily surprised, that is, depending on your northern customs, how I unwind after each day. It involves Dibs Law, and, while I'm not trying to be coy, I'll share everything after dinner, and how you're going to fit into it all." He stops at a gate, which he pushes open, unlocks a beautiful wooden door, and motions to her to lead the way. His open palm, his figure, his charm, his mysterious response beckoning her. "I'll give you a hint. And correct me if I'm wrong, but I think it's right up your alley. Intense and exhausting physical exercise." He nods through the door, "my house, my rules. Lead the way, Miss Bell."

Entering into a living room, Katrien eyes a long sectional leather couch hugging the corner and facing the home entertainment system, and a singular love seat with a short table with books, photo albums, a camera, and a least twenty colored folders. Bill motions her to sit down, while he heads into the kitchen. "Miss Bell, I'll make you an adult beverage to help you relax. You definitely deserve it after this week." Even though she drinks very little, she is glad to accept his offering. He's charming and disarming. "There are rules, of course, that all guests must follow." She is no stranger to house rules and nods to herself reassuringly. "The pertinent one being that you'll always take my food and drink. I like to take care of my guests, and know exactly how to help you settle in." He glides in from the kitchen with a tall glass, and a coaster, which he places on the table, then presents the drink to Katrien's waiting hands. "Be careful not to spill on my folders!" She murmurs a thank you and politely sips her tart cranberry beverage. She hardly tastes any **** and is encouraged to take larger gulps. It is quite refreshing. She points to the folders in query. And then to the camera. "Ah yes, you've found my afterschool hobby. When I'm not at work, I run an athletics program for select and eager members of the public. Women from all over New Atlanta submit to my teachings. I change them into better beings. Teaching them to do things they had never experienced before. Mr. Thompson's wife is one of my...clients." A small hesitation. "I'm so proud of each woman and thusly document their progress in these binders." He laughs, "I'll have you enrolled and exhausted sooner than you might think."

Her eyes light up, for she is intrigued. She loves workout programs. "Take a look through the folders and make yourself comfortable. Looks like you've drained your cup! I'll bring you another and then get started on dinner." He returns another full glass, turns on a nearby radio, and starts making noise in the kitchen. Pots and pans and chopping sounds. Katrien grabs a lime green binder, flips open the first page and starts diving into little bios Bill had written under polaroids of his women.

Law abiding was always the first descriptor. She sometimes saw hesitant, weak, unwilling, broken. More often though, were the words eager, driven, dedicated, willing, strong, loud, all positive notes. Birthdates, and visitation dates were listed in precise lists. Some younger women, even than herself, had asterixis, with the note saying, 'instructed on eighteenth birthday'. Some bios included marital statuses. Many were married, and most with children, some single and only a few divorced. Then she came across the picture and bio of Mrs. Thompson. 'Motivated, fully stretched, flexible, unquenching thirst to prove herself, best athlete, showed up during pregnancy for her scheduled sessions, always willing to please.' Katrien was two drinks in and started to feel a competitive hunger. She wanted to be Bill's best athlete, his most dedicated learner! She turned page after page looking at women that the high school gym coach had instructed to be all the better.

From the kitchen came a hoot of discomfort, a sound of pain, and Katrien surged upward and made her way into the kitchen. Coming around the corner, Bill was in the process of taking his shirt off and muttering a halfhearted expletive. "Stained again." Her eyes travel up his back from belt to neck and see his tightly toned muscles and huge and unflexed arms pulling his shirt over his head. He turns, seemingly unaware, and she gasps, and quite audibly; Bill has a six pack of abs, and she is starting to feel quite some heat on her cheeks. He meets her gaze and grins. "My apologies, Miss Bell. Though you will eventually see me like this during your training sessions, and later tonight at that. Oh!" It's his turn to point out a stain, and this time it's on her shirt. "This is no time to joke, take off your top before that cranberry stains your blouse permanent. Katrien giggles and doesn't move to pull off her shirt and instead shifts toward the bottle of cranberry juice and the vodka container. Before she can take two steps, Bill has stepped mere inches away her, and insists, that "In my house, all rules are followed, Miss Bell. Take off your shirt and only then will I pour another drink for you."

He steps back to the stovetop and mentions the meal is nearly ready. Katrien realized she was still holding her breath. No he hadn't startled her, but rather she was still admiring his powerful physique, and how she would appease his wants and "rules" as it were, for his friendship and guidance, both in and out of school. Her hands eagerly pop each button free and then the Athletics Department from Freeman Steel High were standing shirtless in the kitchen!