Page 4 of The Penalty

“Yeah, but Mom warned me that football is your life during the season.”

I hum in agreement because that’s a nicer response than what I might say about her mother. She liked that I played football until realizing how demanding it was and how little attention I could give her during the season. She wanted me to choose between football and her. At the time, I was seventeen with a baby and didn’t know what else I could do besides try to go pro. So, I went off to college to play and then entered the draft as soon as I could. It definitely started a rift between Kylie’s mom and I. But I always made sure Kylie was taken care of. And I visited her every chance I could. Now, she’s living with me for her final two years of college, and it feels like a second chance for us.

“I was going to bring you coffee, but I figured you already had your one cup of the day.”

I smile. She’s only been living with me for a few weeks and is already picking up on my habits. “I did. Thank you, though.”

“Are you going to be home for dinner?”

I wince. “Probably not. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

She shrugs it off. I know one of the reasons she moved up here was to get a little more independence. She’s certainly going to get that during football season.

“That’s ok. I’ll make something that you can heat up when you get home.”

There’s a knock on my office door, and I look up to see a girl standing in the doorway.

“Yes?”

Kylie turns her head and shoots out of her chair. “McKenzie? What are you doing here?”

McKenzie. That name sounds familiar. Am I supposed to know her?

She’s cute. Long blonde hair. Bright green eyes. But I’m certain I’ve never seen her before.

“I’m here to meet with Coach Danvers about my Television Sports Reporting class.” Her brows furrow in confusion. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, he’s my dad,” Kylie answers, hooking her thumb in my direction. McKenzie’s eyes almost pop out of her head. I have to bite my cheek to stop myself from laughing at her shock.

“Coach Danvers is your dad?” McKenzie chokes out.

“Yeah, did I forget to mention that?” I’m sure she “forgot” to mention that on purpose. She’s never been one to throw my name around for perks. She’s had some experience with people using her to get to me when they learn her last name. It’s a sad reality in today’s world. She turns to me. “Dad, remember me telling you about McKenzie?”

“Vaguely,” I answer. I know the name must have come up at some point over the last week.

Kylie rolls her eyes. “Well, we have lunch together most days between classes.”

“Oh. Uh, well, it’s nice to meet you, McKenzie.” I guess I should be polite to my daughter’s friends.

“Nice to meet you, too. I didn’t mean to interrupt, but you should’ve received an email from Professor Moore about meeting with me this morning.”

I sigh. Fucking emails. I’m sure I did, but I probably overlooked it because it’s not ringing any bells. The journalism department tries to assign a few students to me every year to shadow the team during the season. I try to get out of it and usually end up pawning the students off on my assistant coaches. Last year the kid showed up for two games and then never came back.

“Sorry, I don’t think I got that,” I lie.

This McKenzie sees right through my bullshit. She tilts her head and narrows her eyes at me. “Hmm. Did you also not get the three emails I sent confirming the time for today?”

“Yeah, not ringing any bells.”

She pastes an obviously fake smile on her face before saying, “Well, no worries. I’m here now, and I’ve been assigned to the football team for the semester.” Lovely. I look this girl up and down. Not to judge a book by its cover, but nothing about her screams athlete. She’s wearing black slacks and some sort of flowy blouse. She looks very professional, but I can’t say I’ve had any female students reporting on the football team.

“Oh, that’s so exciting!” Kylie says. I’m not sure I agree with that statement. “Dad, McKenzie is so sweet. You’ll love her. Please be nice? She’s my only friend here.”

I sigh again. I don’t want to have to worry about being nice or supervising what she’s doing or whatever the hell else I’m supposed to do for a student reporter.

But one look into McKenzie’s glaring eyes, knowing I don’t want to disappoint my daughter, and I hear myself agreeing before I can think better of it. “Yeah, I’ll be nice, Ky.”

“Good. Ok, I gotta run, but I’ll see you both later,” Kylie says as she grabs her bag.