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JACE
The clock on Coach’s nightstand read 10:58 a.m. I shot up in the bed, scrambling to pull on my shirt and get to the two minutes of practice that I had left because I had fucking slept through it. I hadn’t missed a single day of practice since Mom had died, and I didn’t want to start today even if it meant showing up and doing laps around the field as all the guys showered.
Someone knocked on the door, and Coach’s wife peeked her head into the room.
“You’re finally awake,” she said, opening the door wider. With a plate of French toast, eggs, and bacon, she walked into the room and set the tray on the dresser. “Don’t worry about going to practice. Steve told me to make sure you rested up. He’s on his way home.”
I frowned at her and nodded, sitting back down on the bed. “You didn’t have to—”
She waved her hand at me. “Nonsense. It’s nice to cook for someone again. All my kids are off to college.” She looked toward the plate. “Oh dear, I almost forgot. Do you like orange juice? Or I also have some apple juice or milk downstairs.”
The corner of my lips curled up slightly. “Orange juice is great. Thank you, Mrs. Carol.”
She gave me a curt nod and smiled. “Good, good. Well, would you like to come eat in the kitchen or eat in here?”
By the way she teetered toward the door, I could tell she wanted to talk to someone. Or maybe it was me who wanted to talk.
I grabbed the tray and walked with her down to the kitchen, sliding onto one of the chairs and grabbing a piece of bacon.
She sat across from me, sipping on a cup of coffee. “Steve told me that you’ve been contacted by many colleges for football. Have you chosen which one you’ll be attending?”
“Michigan,” I said.
“Michigan?” she asked, eyes lighting up. She reached across the table and gently grasped my wrist. “That’s amazing, sweetie. Michigan is a huge football school—well, I’m sure you already know that.” Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her coffee.
The front door opened. When Coach walked into the house, his wife stood.
“Honey, you’re home.” She handed him some coffee. “I’ll leave you two alone. I have some washing to do.”
She disappeared into the hallway and then into one of the back rooms.
Coach sat across from me and took a sip of his coffee.
I rubbed the back of my head and frowned at him. “Sorry that I slept in. It won’t happen again. I was—”
“You’re fine, Jace. You show up to every practice early and stay late when you can. You need some time off,” he said. After a few moments, he cleared his throat. “I, uh, heard about what happened with Allie after the game on Friday,” Coach said, running his tongue over his bottom teeth, as if he didn’t know what else to say or how to approach the subject. “Word gets around fast in Redwood.”
Sunlight flooded in through the windows, and I closed my eyes, feeling nothing but hurt. I balled my hands into fists. Tears welled up in my eyes. “I love her, Coach. I fucking love her so much.”
“Why don’t you tell her, son?” he asked me. “You’re gazing up into those bleachers during every practice and every game, just looking for her, then pick on her every chance you get. That’s not how to win someone over.”
My lips curled into a frown. “That’s how to protect her.”
“Protect her from what?” he asked, graying brows drawn together.
I couldn’t tell him the entire truth because I hated the mere thought of it, but I could tell him some of the pain that I had endured for years—even before Mom’s death.
“My dad abuses me,” I said aloud for the first time ever.
Everything rushed to the surface, all the emotions that I had been trying to suppress since I was a kid, and I sobbed, throwing my head into my hands.
“The principal, the police chief, the fucking counselor he made me fucking go to after Mom died … nobody believes me when I tell them that he’s dangerous. Everyone turns a blind eye, thinks I’m lying for attention, that my dad couldn’t be a monster because he has fucking money. I have been trying so hard—so fucking hard—for someone to believe me.”
It’d been too hard, too much some days. I was getting tired of the facade that I had to keep up at home, on the field, at school, and especially with Allie. I had wanted to tell someone the real, deep truth for years now.
“Son.”
Coach pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arms around me and holding me close as I shook uncontrollably. I wrapped my arms around him and shook my head, the tears actually falling.
