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I didn’t know.
I didn’t plan on texting her.
No, I didn’t care.
By Thursday, Grams was hardly talking to me. But she had finally gotten her appointment through for her first infusion, so I could suffer her old lady tantrum so long as she didn’t have to suffer unnecessarily.
We had a game tomorrow night; our final game before the playoffs started in two weeks’ time.
“Good practice,” Coach Farringdon boomed across the locker room. “Get showered and changed and get out of here. I’ll see you all bright and early tomorrow. Washington, a word in my office please.”
Shit.
What did he want?
Kye flashed me a curious look, but I mouthed, “It’s all good.”
Coach didn’t know anything, and if he did, it was none of his business.
I followed him to his office and went inside.
“Take a seat, son.”
“What’s up, Coach?”
“Sit,” he said, and I did. “Miss Kyrie informs me you still haven’t submitted any college applications.”
“That’s right, sir.”
“Want to clue me in as to why?”
“College isn’t in the cards for me, you know that,” I said.
“What I know, Zane, son, is that college is in the cards for each and every one of my boys. But you have to want it. You have to make the effort and fill out the application.”
“Look, Coach, I appreciate your concern, I do, but I have more important things to think about right now.” I stood up, done with this conversation.
“More important than your future? I checked your transcripts, Zane. With your GPA you could get into a good school. Just think about it, okay? You still have a few weeks, and a bunch of colleges have late submission.”
“Can I ask you something, Coach?”
“Sure, son.”
“Why do you even care?”
He whipped off his ball cap and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Because you’re my boys, the whole damn bunch of you. And someone’s got to want more for you. You change your mind and need some help with things, you come to me, okay?”
I gave him a non-committal nod. “You’re a good man, Coach. I wish I had a different answer for you.”
“Me too, son.” His expression sobered. “Me too.”
Celeste
“Celeste,”Max called. “There’s someone here to see you.”
My brows pinched as I peeled the cushion from my chest, my heart pitter-pattering beneath my rib cage.
The stupid fickle thing wanted it to be Zane. But my head knew better.
