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“Is that when you want to train?”
“Well, it would be the best time for me, because I’ve got coaching and matches after school.”
“And homework, young lady,” Dad interjected, a cheesy grin on his face.
“Yeah, and homework,” I agreed with a grimace. “But if I could get my running and gym sessions done early, it would make life easier.”
“Well, you tell the football coach you’ll be training in the mornings then.”
“What?” I gasped.
“Tay,” Dad said, his voice dropping lower as he stirred the pan vigorously, “What would Mom do?”
What would Mom do?Yes, Dad spoke those words frequently, too. Any decision, tough or otherwise, he asked it. For the lease of this little derelict house, he asked exactly that. We knew that Mom wouldn’t want us to spend an exorbitant amount on rent, that it would be a waste of money to have four or five bedrooms and a house in Covington Heights when 1040 Fox Avenue sufficed.
“She’d say toask,nottellthe football coach that you want to train in the mornings. To say that you’d do your program without getting in anyone’s way,” I said, smiling as I recalled my Mom’s brisk and common sense approach to everything.
“Too right she would,” Dad said with a definitive nod.
“But what about the boys?” My face scrunched up at the thought of training with those big, burly football players.
“You’re worried about a few football players?” Dad asked in disbelief.
“Hmmm,” I mumbled, “Mom would say they’re only boys, wouldn’t she?” Dad nodded again. When I’d gotten to the stage where I’d beaten all the local girls at the club, I’d had to hit with the boys. Boys made good friends, they didn’t care about your clothing choice, or how you wore your hair, not like the girls around here.
“Oh, and you know what else Mom would do?” I said in a bid to cheer myself up. “She’d say plant some flowers in the front yard. Did you see how bare it is?”
Dad smiled. “Absolutely she would. Though I must say the lawn man did a good job. Very tidy.”
“Yeah, it looks a hundred percent better. Not quite so rundown.” I rolled my eyes, but startled at my own words. Imagine if Bianca Holbrun found out where I lived—she’d shred me to pieces.
As if reading my mind, Dad said, “And about that girl, Bianca? What would Mom say to do about her?”
I clicked my tongue in contemplation, but knowing what her answer would be. “She’d say let your tennis do the talking.”
“Uh huh. She surely would, and you certainly did,” Dad said proudly, and at that moment I abandoned my homework at the kitchen table, leapt off my chair and squeezed up to Dad.
“I miss her,” I said, hugging him tightly from behind.
“Me too, princess,” he said, continuing to mix his noodle concoction. “Me too.”
I stood there holding him until he declared the dish was cooked. There were no tears—this time, but that didn’t mean they’d all dried up. Each day was different, but today had been too good for it to end with crying. I had made the number one ranking, I’d overcome my nerves and shaky start, I’d won the match, I’d run fast laps...on the track...with Max.
A flush of heat seeped up from neck to my cheeks. Whew! Thinking about him running beside me, fixing my zipper, his muscular thighs...
Okay, I had to stop it! Max was a boy, and boys made good friends, right?
I had no room in my life for romance, and besides, River Valley was a temporary stop on my roadmap. I didn’t need any distractions, not mean girls or...boys.
Any boys.
Especially cute ones.
––––––––
Coach Mercer’s officewas to the side of the gym. I dressed in my PE uniform again, hoping it made me seem righteous and justified in being there. If Coach was completely unreasonable, then plan B was to go to the track. There might have been a small, teeny tiny part of me that didn’t mind if I had to run, just so I could see if Max would be there again.
I snapped myself out of my silly daydream and knocked firmly on Coach’s door, even though it was wide open.
