Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
DREW
Where the ever-loving hell has my log cabin charm disappeared to? I can not leave for the last game of the regular season without it.
Good grief. The last day of the regular season is tomorrow. How have the two months since I got here gone so fast?
And we’ve gotten lucky—well, it’s not all luck. Hugo and I have worked our asses off and done some great things. But it is fortunate that no team in the league has had a glorious season. A record number of draws has left the playoffs not quite anyone’s game, but it’s enough of anyone’s game that we still have a microchance of qualifying.
Whoever thought the Commoners would be in with even the slimmest of slim chances of making the postseason?
No one. That’s who.
Apart from maybe Hugo, who radiates unrelenting self-belief at all times. Or at least he does on the outside. Just last night, when we were cocooned together in the darkness of his bedroom, he whispered, “I don’t know if we can do it.” And it was me who brought him back around to the positive side. Even though I haven’t dared believe we could make it myself most of the time.
The soccer press is going wild. We’re the comeback story they never thought they’d be lucky enough to have. Hugo and I have done more interviews since last Saturday’s win over Toronto than we would ever care to. Even he finally got tired of being in front of a camera. But at least the press likes him now—the British tabloids are finding more and more good things to say. It’s quite the comeback for him as well as for the Commoners.
Anyway, I am not getting on the bus that’s idling outside the office window, waiting to take us to the airport for our flight to Florida, without my lucky log cabin charm. It’s been on the zipper of my jacket for every game this season. Yes, for the losses too. But whoever said sports superstitions made sense?
I checked Hugo’s place before I left this morning, and stopped in at the pub to scour my apartment on the way here. It’s not in any pocket of any garment, not in any bag. And now I know it’s not in any drawer or on any shelf in this office, nor under my desk, which I have just thoroughly searched and have a bump on my head to prove it.
Maybe it fell off in the owners’ office when I was up there yesterday finalizing today’s travel plans.
After a record-breaking sprint up the stairs, the sound of Miller and Leo chatting in their office brings me to a screeching halt. Why are they not in a limo on their way to the airport?
“It’s the only logical thing to do,” Leo says .
Not only is it wrong to eavesdrop on their conversation, I certainly don’t have time for it. But there’s something about the vibe emanating from the gap in the door that brings me to a halt and sends a shiver through me that my grandma would describe as “someone just walked over my grave.”
“When should we tell her?” Miller asks.
My blood runs as cold as if I am, indeed, six feet under.
“Well now wouldn’t be good,” Leo scoffs.
“No time would be good,” Miller mutters. “And for the first time in my life I feel bad about laying someone off.” He makes a noise that would indicate he’s shuddering at the thought.
My whole body shudders too, making my knees buckle. I lean against the wall, my trembling hands instinctively reaching for the charm that’s missing from my zipper.
“Exactly,” Leo says. “It’s just business. We were always going to have to pick one of them for next season. And all the common sense says we should go with Hugo.”
It’s like accidentally overhearing two sympathetic doctors discussing how to deliver your terrible diagnosis.
A few minutes ago, this was going to be a great day. Now I want to throw up and cry and punch a hole in this wall all at the same time.
Of course they’ve picked him. Of course they have. Just like I always knew they would. But it doesn’t hurt any less. It actually hurts even more than I ever imagined it would. This moment marks the end of my ties with the Commoners. The club that’s been part of my life since I was two years old.
I push off the wall, take a deep breath into my trembling chest, and throw back my shoulders. They’re not going to take me down without a fight.
Not that there’s really time for this when I also need to find my charm, get on that bus, and concentrate on the game and getting the guys into the playoffs.
I give a cursory rap on the door while swinging it open. “Hi.”
One look at my face, which feels like it’s on fire, and their expressions immediately scream that they know I heard them.
“Drew, we–”
I hold my hand up to Miller. “Do I not get to fight my corner?”
“This is not how we wanted you to find out.” Leo stares down at his desk and grabs at the only thing on it—Amelia’s soccer ball-shaped stapler. “And I’m sorry, but it’s a done deal.”
“Yes,” Miller says. “Hugo’s already accepted and?—”
My boiling blood turns to ice. “Hugo already knows ?”
“There was a rumor that Bayern Munich was approaching him for an assistant fitness coach position,” Miller stammers out. “And we wanted to be sure to keep him.”
“And you were going to tell me when, exactly?”
“We thought telling you right before this big game would be unnecessarily cruel. So we decided to wait.”
“But you thought that Hugo knowing I didn’t get the job for days before you tell me is not unnecessarily cruel?” I mean, what the actual fuck?
“This might be a bit of a catch twenty-two,” Leo says.
Miller thrusts his hands into his pockets and strolls over to the window. “Yeah, we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t. A lose-lose situation. A case of not being able to win for losing. We’re kinda between a rock and a har–”
“Yes, I get it. It must be terrible for you.” My fists crunch into tight balls at my sides.
“Sorry.” He turns back to face me, his expression full of shame for trying to brush it off. “The team’s done better than anyone dared hope,” he says. “And a lot of that is due to you.”
“Absolutely,” Leo says. “I mean, of course, it would take a very fortunate confluence of events today for us to get to the playoffs. But to be in with any chance at all is more than we imagined so soon in our tenure. We will of course be very happy to write you a most glowing reference any time you need it.”
Oh good, he’s launched into dispassionate investor-bot robo-speech.
“Your contribution has been phenomenal,” Miller says. “The positivity and morale you foster is a remarkable thing. I’ve seen the way you handle the squad, the way you talk to them. And the experts you brought in to help have been top-notch. We can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”
I fold my arms across my trembling chest, hook my icy fingers under my armpits to warm them, and hold his gaze. I’m not going to make this easy for them. If they’re firing me, they’re going to have to look me right in the eye while they do it.
“I can think of one way you could thank me. You could keep me on. It doesn’t have to be as coach.” If the desperation in my voice is obvious to me, I dread to think how humiliatingly obvious it must be to them.
“We can talk more about it later, if you’d like.” Leo looks at his watch and stands up. “We need to get to the airport, Miller.”
“Right, yes.” Miller grabs the good excuse to escape with both hands and strides toward the door.
“I’m so sorry, Drew.” Leo rounds the desk and pats me on the upper arm. “But for now, you should go down and get on the bus.”
“Oh, and why did you come up here?” Miller asks. “Did you need us for something?”
“No. I was looking for my—” The rest of my words are trapped below a swelling rock in my throat, and I have to stop talking or run the risk of unprofessionally blubbering in front of fifty percent of my bosses.
Closing my eyes, I swallow hard. “Doesn’t matter. You go. I’ll see you there.”
As we stand in silence, it’s all I can do to keep from collapsing in a heap on the floor and letting the floodgates open.
“Please know,” Leo moves toward the door and rests his hand on the handle, “you will always be welcome here whenever you like. And you can come to any game. Just call Amelia and she’ll get you a pass.”
And there it is. I’m officially an outsider at the Commoners for the first time in my life.
“I’ve never had to call anyone before.” The words virtually jerk out of me. “Never needed a pass before.”
“Okay, right,” Leo says, full of discomfort.
I couldn’t give a shit if he feels as awkward as he sounds. I’m not going to make any effort to make him feel better.
He pulls open the door to reveal Hugo standing right outside.
It’s like my heart stops as I gaze at his frozen form. The most expressive face I’ve ever known suddenly has absolutely no expression at all. He just looks pale. With a hint of shock behind his eyes. And a visibly fast thump of his heart under his shirt.
Why didn’t he tell me?
How long has he known?
And how long has he been standing there? Exactly like he did outside our office door when he heard Ramon getting in my face and stepped in to stand up for me.
He must have heard what Leo was just saying.
But there was no standing up for me this time. Not now it suits him not to.
I press my hands to my chest in an effort to contain the riot of emotions swirling inside it, push past him, and run down the stairs.