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“Oh, I know exactly what you need to do.” Chloe claps her hands and gets us yelled at again. Then she tells me her plan.
Oh yeah. My best friend is the best.
23
Brady
Our team has just finished our second practice this week.
We have a walkthrough and interviews with the local sports channel scheduled for tomorrow.
There is a pep rally in school on Friday.
Our first game of the season is that night, and our team has never played shittier football. Tensions are so high from the fight last weekend that I don’t know how to pull us together. We talked to Natalie about telling Coach Maxwell what happened, but she doesn’t want to do that. I told Cooper I thought that we should, but he said it was her decision. I don’t let anyone make decisions for this team, but if it’s what she wants, I can’t go against it.
It really isn’t helping matters that I want to rip that mother fucker’s balls off and shove them down his throat every time I see him in the huddle.
I’m the quarterback, the captain of the team. Part of my job is to get everyone on the same page, and I don’t think I can do it now.
Darby has tried to keep under the radar, but he is getting his ass handed to him by half the damn team. The other half are his friends, and they’ve got his back, pitting one half of the team against the other.
Coach Maxwell ripped us to shreds. He screamed himself hoarse this afternoon.
At the end of practice, I was instructed to shower and have my ass sitting in his office in ten minutes. So here I am sitting in the hard metal chair on the opposite side of Coach’s desk with him staring me down. I’m waiting for him to speak first, but I am starting to doubt his ability to do so. Once he opens his mouth, I regret ever questioning him.
“Brady Ryan, you have played for me for four years. You’ve been my starting quarterback for three of those years, and this is your second year as my captain. Care to explain to me what in the actual fuck is going on out there on my football field? And don’t even think about saying nothing, because that shit show out there today was not nothing.”
He stares at me for a long minute. “The floor is yours, son. Explain. Now.”
“Uh, Coach. There was a bit of an issue over the weekend, but I know we can pull it together for Friday night.”
“You are in the top five quarterbacks in this country, Brady. You better be able to pull it together. Leaders lead. They don’t make excuses. Show me the leader that I know you can be. Reporters will be here tomorrow to do interviews before the opener this weekend. I will not have any of you boys make a mockery of this school. Pull your head out of your ass and pull your team together. I’m counting on you.”
“Will do, Coach.”
“Now get out of my office.”
“Yes, sir, coach.”
* * *
Driving down our town’s main street later that night, I pull to a stop at the red light and glance to the right. Sandwiched there between the local pharmacy and the dry cleaners is Hart & Soul Dance Academy. The windows in the front are one way, so I can’t see if Natalie is still there or not. Before I have a chance to second guess myself, I’m pulling into an open parking space in front of the studio.
There are little girls in pink tutus holding their parents’ hands, skipping happily out of the studio as I shut my car off.
My hair is still damp from my shower earlier, and my head is still heavy from my conversation with Coach, but I don’t care. There is a magnetic force pulling me to my girl.
Bells jingle as I walk through the front door. There is no one sitting at the front desk, and the lobby is deserted. Looking to my right, I see Natalie.
She is on the other side of the glass dressed just as she described in a pale pink bodysuit and a floaty little pink skirt wrapped around her hips. She has a fuzzy sweater covering her arms and tied in a knot at her chest. All of her gorgeous, golden blonde hair is pulled up in a tight bun with a pink ribbon around it, hanging down the back of her head. She floats around the room, her feet barely touching the ground. Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah is playing through the speakers and I can’t look away as she leaps through the air.
She is incredible.
A throat clearing pulls me from the picture in front of me. “Can I help you with something, Mr…”
“Oh, I’m sorry. No, I don’t need any help. I just wanted to stop in and see Natalie. I wanted to ask if she needed a ride home.”
“Well, I can let Natalie know you’re here if you give me your name.” This woman has a lightness to her voice now like she knows why I’m here, and it’s amusing to her.
