I nodded. “I’m Jack. I’m coaching the Brookline girls’ team,” I added in case he was checking references or knew a way to get me out of this.
Jacob elbowed Charlie, and they shared a laugh. “Good luck.”
I didn’t know what that meant, but I wasn’t about to start pumping kids for information. Even I, with my limited experience with children, knew that was not a good idea.
“I live in Brookline, too. Are you coaching the boys’ team?” Jacob asked hopefully. “Because our coach last year wasn’t very good and my dad left, so it’s just my mom supporting my soccer career.”
Jesus, kids were honest.
“Uh, no,” I finally managed. “I’m only coaching the girls.” They stared at me for a moment, so I added, “Sorry.”
“Okay!” Jacob announced before running off. Charlie parroted his friend and immediately followed.
I sighed. That had only been one interaction with two kids, and I was already sweating. How was I going to survive the next hour with ten little girls?
I shoved the sleeves of my hoodie back up my arms before remembering Jacob’s curious gaze and tugging them down again. Was I a bad influence? Would he want tattoos now?
I didn’t have time to have an existential crisis over the art on my body because a pack—and I mean, a pack—of girls came running toward me.
My heart rate picked up, and I swallowed hard.
“Hi, Coach Jack!” the tiny traitor of my contractual obligation nightmares called when she got to the sideline.
“Hello, Santiago,” I replied flatly. “You know, you failed to mention the coaching portion of your request when you approached me about sponsoring the team.”
Her smile widened. I thought she’d lost another baby tooth since I’d seen her last week.
“It was all there on the form,” she said, not even a whiff of apology in her tone. “It’s always a good idea to review a legally binding contract in its entirety.”
I shook my head, borderline amused.This kid.
The rest of the pack were sitting on the grass, changing into soccer cleats. Jamie went to join them. It was still pretty warm for late September, and the girls were wearing shorts and tee shirts with tall socks in a variety of colors.
I finished placing the cones at the corners of our practice space and found the team stretching in a circle, Jamie leading them in the center. Tentatively, I grabbed my clipboard with the attached roster and joined my players.
I didn’t even have to say anything or call them to attention. Ten pairs of eyes focused on me, and I was pretty sure a bead of sweat found its way down my spine.
Clearing my throat, I said, “I’m Jack. I’ll be coaching you this season.” They continued to stare. Jamie gave me a thumbs-up and a grin. “Why don’t you take turns introducing yourselves and let me know what position you play?”
I pointed to a girl with dark brown skin and a tight bun, indicating she should start things off. Clicking my pen, I prepared to make notes on my clipboard.
The kid stood with military precision. “I am Raeanne Holt. Do not call me Rae or Anne. It’s Raeanne.”
I blinked. “Okay, Raeanne. What position do you play?”
“Captain,” she replied easily and then sat, returning her attention to tying her cleats.
Uh, okay.
Jamie piped up, “Raeanne is new to our grade. She has lots of experience from her old soccer team. I think she’ll make a great captain.”
My eyes flicked to Raeanne to see how she would respond to Jamie’s brownnosing, but the little girl remained stoic and offered a single, solemn nod. Jamie beamed.
“Right, next,” I called.
A tall, skinny girl with a long, dark ponytail climbed to her feet. “I’m Rosie. I play defense.”
I made a note. “Would you like to tell us anything else about yourself?”
