“Ha. Ha.”
“You know,” she began, “my sister is dating a former college soccer player. Do you know Brady Judd? I could see if he’d be interested in helping coach.”
I knew of the Judds. They were recognizable in Kirby Falls the same way the Clarks were. Small-town apple royalty.
There was a prickly, prideful part of me that didn’t want Bonnie’s help—or anyone’s. But then my eyes drifted to the field where the scrimmage had devolved into most of the players sitting on the ground while Jamie and Raeanne looked on in disappointment. Gia was definitely FaceTiming someone, and Callie and Michelle were tossing Goldfish crackers into each other’s mouths.Christ.
I didn’t know anything about soccer. I also didn’t know what to do with these kids. And I sure as shit didn’t know how to motivate them. Turning down an offer for help from someone who actually knew that there were different-sized soccer balls was probably a dumb move.
Clearing my throat, I finally replied, “Thanks. That would be really great.”
We exchanged numbers, and I made sure Bonnie saw me enter her contact name asClyde. I bit down on a grin as she rolled her eyes at me, but she promised to talk to Brady tonight when she had dinner with him and her sister.
The kids must have known we were nearing the end of practice because they stopped looking for four-leaf clovers long enough to come over and tell Ms. Jensen goodbye.
“You’ll come to our first game, won’t you?” Jamie asked her hopefully.
“Of course,” Bonnie said easily. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Coach Jack, your hair is long,” Gia said out of nowhere. “You could have a man-bun if you wanted.”
I must have made a face because Bonnie snorted in amusement.
“Why would I want that?” I asked.
All the girls chimed in at once.
“Because it would be cool.”
“One of the Premier League coaches wears a man-bun.”
“That would be way better than the boys in our grade with their mullets.”
“And their perms,” Raeanne added in disgust.
“And their permed mullets,” Gia concluded.
I didn’t know why, but I felt embarrassed by their attention. And then I noticed Bonnie nodding along with the girls, and my ears went hot.
Raising my brow, I asked her, “You think I need a man-bun?”
She narrowed her eyes like she was trying to picture it. “I think you could pull it off.”
The team echoed their support.
Thankfully, the girls stopped speculating about my appearance as a few parents approached from the parking lot. I checked my watch, and thank Christ, this torture was over.
I cleared my throat uncomfortably for the hundredth time this afternoon. “Alright, your parents are waiting. No game this week. I’ll see you next Tuesday for practice.”
Without warning, the girls crowded around me, and I thought for one horrifying moment that they might hug me.
“Hands in,” Rosie ordered.
Ah, a huddle. Sportsmanship and whatnot.
Cautiously, I placed my hand on top of the little ones stacked in the middle of our sloppy circle.
“You too, Ms. Jensen,” Jamie said.
