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“I’m not useless,” Remi said.
He opened Coach’s office door.
We all poured inside.
Coach stood holding a picture in the air, ready to slam it against his desk.
“Coach,” Riff said.
“Was practice that bad?” Abel asked.
Remi lunged forward and put his hand under the picture to keep Coach from breaking it.
“What’s going on?” Remi whispered.
Remi took the picture from Coach’s hands and leaned it against the desk.
Coach pointed to his desk.
At the picture of his family.
The picture of himself, his wife, and his two kids.
I picked up the picture. “What happened, Coach? Talk to us.”
“Didn’t know you were still here,” he said. “Figured you’d have changed and bolted by now.”
“Coach,” Remi said.
“Guys, you have to get out of here. Okay?”
“We’re not leaving,” Riff said.
“I said to leave,” Coach growled. “That’s a fucking order.”
“Punish us then,” Matias said. “I’ll do pushups right here. I’ll go skate laps. Whatever you want us to do. We’re not leaving.”
“Did you get fired?” I asked.
“Fuck,” Abel said. “No. Don’t even…” Abel curled his lip. “If that fucking new guy fired you, Coach, I’m requesting a trade.”
“Me too,” Riff said.
“Same,” Lay said. “Fuck this team then.”
“I didn’t get fired,” Coach said. “Will you all back off for a second?”
“Not when you’re trashing your office,” Remi said. “You love your office. So something really bad is going on.”
“Are you sure you’re not fired?” I asked.
Coach moved behind his desk and took the picture from my hand.
He didn’t answer my question.
“It’s Carrie,” he said. “My wife. She’s…”
“Oh, fuck, is she leaving you?” Lay asked.
“You’re an asshole,” Remi growled.
“She might be leaving me,” Coach said.
“What?” I asked.
“What does that mean?” Riff asked.
Coach sat down and tossed the picture to his desk.“Carrie has cancer.”
