And suddenly Grey is in her place.
There’s not time to arrange my face or to analyze Lily Jane’s suggestion that maybe not everyone—or just her, I suppose—thinks I’m a total loser.
Dark circles hug Grey’s lower lashes and he looks exhausted for the first time since I met him. His eyes meet mine, their usual light snuffed out.
Still, he nods at me and settles into his desk, broad shoulders hunching in his polo, boat shoes crossed at the ankles. But there’s a swooshy curve to his spine—as if every muscle in his body is fighting not to turn and sit sideways toward me the way he has every other day so that he can see both me and Coach Lee in the same sweep.
I realize that all the eyes are back on us, only Topps and Jake making an effort not to watch us fail to interact. Kelly, Lily Jane, and the others either blatantly stare or steal glances at us out of the sides of their eyes.
I wonder if it’s been this way all day for Grey, too. Like you’re literally the only thing on TV and there’s nothing else for anyone to do but watch.
“I know we all love a good Shakespearean drama,” Coach Lee’s voice drawls out, and it’s clearer than it wasSaturday morning that he knows exactly what happened Friday night. “But I’d appreciate it if you folks would at leastactlike you’re paying attention to me right now.”
Twenty heads snap toward the front.
Out of the spotlight, Grey’s shoulders soften, and my earlier question is answered.
Ithasbeen this way all day for him, too.
Good.
34
I MAKE IT THROUGH CALC. I MAKE IT THROUGH THEday.
Now, just two-hundred-plus more days until Grey’s and Jake’s graduation and the reprieve of summer break. Gotta survive and advance. It’s like state, but life.
But first: Coach Kitt.
Her door is wide open, NPR whispering into the hallway. There’s also the shuffle of papers and the fizzy pop of a newly opened La Croix. In a word: comfortable. She’s comfortable even though she’s about to see me.
Me—Hurricane Liv. Bringing the drama on one-hundred-mile-per-hour winds to her team, then to her school, then to her son.
Heart quickening, I tell myself she wants me here. She invited me—with a smile. Last time, I was the one to invitemyself in. It’ll be different this time. Even if I have exactly zero defense for my attitude Friday night that wouldn’t inadvertently throw her son under the bus.
“Coach?” The word feels thick and strange on my tongue, as if I haven’t used it every day of my life.
Her eyes flash up and again, she smiles. “There you are—come in. I won’t keep you long.”
I sink into the chair opposite Coach Kitt. Her smile has vanished, something friendly but serious in its place.
“I know you have places to be, but I wanted to make sure you understand how much I appreciate the work you did Friday night in helping Kelly control her emotions.”
WHUT.
It’s only by the grace of Danielle’s training that I manage to keep my features smooth.
“I know you might have thought about letting Kelly learn a lesson by allowing her to rush into that fight, where she might have gotten hurt, but you showed great maturity in making sure she didn’t.”
I suppose I did. But shock still zings up my spine that Coach Kitt noticed it. I figured she’d have been in the stands searching for Grey during the whole brawl.
“What you did showed incredible dedication to the Northland softball team,” she continues. “And at the personal expense of the opportunity to defend someone important to you.”
Grey. Jake. The team.
I watch Kitt’s face for any sign of trepidation about the way I feel—how Ifelt—for her son, or for a hint that she’ll bring up the yelling match in the parking lot. But there’s none—she’s already moved on.
“And though you aren’t on the team yet, I really appreciated your thoughtfulness in the midst of the chaos.”
