The Coaching Hours

THERE ARE NO DOUCHEBAGS IN THIS STORY. Well, there are, but they’re not who this story is about. This story is about me—the coach’s daughter. When I moved to Iowa to live with my dad, the university's take-no-prisoners wrestling coach, I thought transferring would be easy as pie—living with my father would be temporary, and he'd make sure his douchebag wrestlers left me alone. Wrong on both counts. ASSHOLES ALWAYS COME OUT OF THE WOODWORK WHEN THE STAKES ARE HIGH. A bet is placed, and I'm on the