“Because it’s not fair, Mom,” Hannah snaps. “We all work together out here, and if Jayden doesn’t get to play then neither do we.”
Parents oppose each other, arguing their points, until Shreeya’s mother steps forward. “We don’t agree with what’s happening to Jayden or Coach Ainsley. Is there anything we can do to help?”
Several other parents nod in agreement, glancing around the group.
Relief floods my senses. “I think we should start a petition. If the school board sees the majority of us standing together on this, that might expedite their decision.”
“One bad apple shouldn’t ruin the bunch for the rest of us,” Shreeya’s mom says. “Let’s do this and show the school what we stand for.”
Pride swells in my chest. This is what school spirit is all about. This is how it should be, parents and students and teachers working together for the same cause. The school has to follow protocol, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us have to sit idly by.
And all it took was the courage of a bunch of teenage girls to spark this movement.
Quinn jogs over with a clipboard and a pencil. “Let’s pass this around and start collecting signatures.”
Excitement courses through me as I scribble my name onto the top of the list.
As the JV teams clear off the field, they slap hands with the varsity girls. The varsity playoff game is next, and after this show of solidarity, I’m curious what Ainsley’s team is thinking. They haven’t been happy without their leader, but it’s the seniors’ last shot at making state. It’d be a bittersweet ending for their high school lacrosse careers if they forfeited.
And Ainsley would have an aneurism.
I slide my phone out of my pocket and click on her name to FaceTime her like I promised. This is the closest thing to being here since she can’t physically be on school grounds.
Ainsley’s eyebrows pull down as her face fills my phone screen. “What’s wrong? You’re not supposed to call me for another hour.”
“My team forfeited and refused to play without you and Jayden here.”
“What?” Her eyes bulge. “That’s...that’s...”
“Fucking awesome?” I chuckle. “The parents aren’t happy with Mrs. Morales, either. We started a petition to get you back in school where you belong.”
She shakes her head, but the smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “Rebels. I love them.”
“Reminds me of another rebel I know.” I shoot her a wink. “Listen, I don’t know what Natalie and your team plan on doing, but I can’t imagine they’ll want to play after the JV team walked off.”
“They have to play. This is their last chance. Put Nat on the phone.”
I walk over to Natalie and outstretch my arm. “The boss wants to talk to you.”
She rolls her eyes and takes the phone from me. “Coach, we’ve already discussed it and you can’t change our minds. We’re not playing.”
Ainsley’s voice rises. “This is your last chance at playing in high school. Think about your stats. Think about the juniors.”
Natalie covers her mouth with her palm, feigning a yawn. “Are you done yelling?”
“No!” she screeches.
Raymond pinches the bridge of his nose, and I roll my lips between my teeth trying not to laugh.
“You told me you wanted me to be a leader, and that’s what I’m doing. We’re taking a stand, and that is that.” Natalie shoves the phone into my chest. “You deal with her.”
Then she darts onto the field and exchanges a few words with the referee.
“She’s impossible,” Ainsley says.
I arch a brow. “Wonder who that sounds like.”
She lets out a frustrated sound from the back of her throat. “Keep me on the phone. I want to know what happens.”
