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“That’s never a good sign,” Jude muttered, and a few guys around us laughed.

“Please, Jude, enough,” he said. Something in Rhodes’ tone killed the laughter immediately. My chest tightened. Whatever he wanted to tell us, I didn’t have a good feeling about it. He continued, “Now, as you know, my taking this position was never meant to be a permanent thing. That being said, as of yesterday, Dean Wirtz has hired a new head coach.”

The field erupted into chaos as questions were thrown at him from every direction simultaneously. What? Already? Who the hell is it? You’re leaving? Each question was fired right on top of the other, but that last one knocked the air out of my lungs.

I knew this was coming. We all did. Rhodes had never pretended otherwise. But knowing that didn’t make the sting of change any softer.

Rhodes let the noise run on for several minutes—letting everyone get their initial worries and frustrations out—before lifting both his hands in the air to get their attention.

“I know! I know,” he told them loudly. It took another long moment for anyone to quiet down enough for him to continue. “I know that’s a lot to take in, but I need you to stick with me through this. I talked with the dean yesterday, and I met your new coach. His name is James Peterson. He’s enthusiastic about the position, and he’s looking forward to meeting all of you.”

“Do you like him?” Cody called out.

The question made several heads turn toward Rhodes. It didn’t surprise me that that was a question. I knew most, if not all, of the guys looked up to him. They valued what he had to say. His approval of this new coach would go a long way.

Rhodes crossed his arms as he nodded, his expression thoughtful.

“Yeah. From our interaction, he seems like a great guy. I think he’ll do well as your coach,” he said. The answer seemed to ease some of the intense emotion in the group, but I knew better. That was the most diplomatic Rhodes answer ever, which translated into something like, I haven’t talked to the guy enough to form any kind of opinion, but I’m not going to say that out loud. Even Jude caught that too as he rolled his eyes.

“So what happens with you?” Wyatt asked, voicing probably the most important question.

“I’ll be stepping back as your head coach starting tomorrow,” Rhodes said. His hands flew up once more when the chaos started. “That’s only because the dean wants me to stick around and train Peterson.”

The relief hit me all at once, and I let out a sigh. I wasn’t quite ready for Rhodes to leave—not with everything else going on.

“Look, the dean is impressed with how the season has gone so far—he’s impressed by you,” he continued. “And he wants me to work with your new coach to keep things moving in the same direction next year.”

“Does that mean you’re not our coach anymore?” Rodney asked. His voice had lost most of his usual stupidity, which somehow made the question hurt more.

“No, I’m not,” Rhodes replied.

A strange heaviness rolled over the group. Even the guys who usually couldn’t stay quiet for more than thirty seconds were silent. Someone behind me muttered a quiet shit, and Rodney stared down at the turf like he regretted asking.

My own chest ached. Somewhere along the way, Rhodes has stopped being the temporary guy filling an empty position. He was Coach K. He was our coach. And I had a feeling no one had really considered what it would feel like when he was done.

“Peterson is your coach now. But I’m not going anywhere until the last game is over. I just won’t be the head coach of the Hammerheads anymore.”

“Damn,” Forrest whispered, and a few guys murmured their agreement.

“Don’t think of it as a bad thing,” Rhodes said with a smile. “I get to coach your coach—”

“Are you going to be as mean to him as you are to us?” Jude interrupted loudly. The tension cracked with a rumble of laughter.

“I’m only mean to you,” Rhodes retorted.

“I don’t know,” Brent chimed in. “Some of those workouts you insisted we do were fucking brutal, man.”

“Yeah,” Luke added. “I’m pretty sure one of them violated the Geneva Convention.”

“That’s dramatic,” Rhodes said. “And how do you know about the Geneva Convention?”

“It had sled pushes, Coach,” Max exclaimed, like that explained everything.

“We’re getting off topic.” Rhodes waved them off while everyone laughed. “And yes, I’m probably going to be mean to him in the most professional way I can be. My job is to make sure I leave you with a coach who can do a better job than I did.”

“Bullshit!” Sam shouted, but half the team started yelling over him, making it hard to pick out who said what and when.

“No fucking way.”