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“This is official?” I ask.
“I signed the papers this afternoon,” he answers, still smiling. “It’s official. I’m your new coach.”
I scoff. “And you didn’t think to run it by me first?”
He shifts his weight. “This isn’t about you, Connor.”
“The fuck it isn’t.”
“Connor,”Mom warns softly.
“No, this is bullshit!”
“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” Dad says.
“I’m not talking to her. I’m talking to you,” I say. “Why would you do this?”
“This is a huge opportunity for me,” he says. “This is my chance to give back.”
“You can coach anywhere you want! Why did it have to be myschool?” I ask.
“Once a Northie,” he says.
More of that fucking script.
“No. Fuck that, Dad! This was supposed to be mytime!” I back up a step. “Now if I make quarterback, everyone’s going to think it’s because my dad is the coach.”
Mom deflates, her expression betraying the obvious I told you solingering beneath.
Dad doesn’t move, a calm silence before a coming storm. “Connor...”
“Whatever.” I turn my back on him. “I’m out of here.”
“We’re not done talking.”
“I am.”
“Connor.”
Ignoring him, I walk out the front door, one hand searching my pocket for my keys. I find them, but something keeps me walking past my car instead.
I continue along the driveway. Down the sidewalk. My feet carry me, the direction as random as the furious thoughts swirling between my ears.
At least, I assume it’s random until I look up at the giant tree next to the Kirby house, the branches outstretched toward her window.
The lights are on. She’s there.
And I need her.
CHAPTER 21
DANA
Damn, Grant Wilson is a talented writer.
I already knew that. I’ve seen every one of his plays before — or at least the ones that were age appropriate for us growing up. Getting dressed up for a night at the theatre is a common occurrence in our circle of families, but I’ve never actually sat down and read his words before. There’s something… different about the experience. Something primal about the bare-naked words on the page that makes them cut a little deeper.
I collapse on my pillow, not realizing how tense I am as I let the script drop onto my lap.
