Chapter 25
“Hannah!” My voice carries across the open field, bringing a sudden halt to everything.
All eyes turn my way as I walk onto the field from the parking lot.
I’d been running ten minutes late and asked Jana to start practice, but from the looks of it, my assistant coach was too busy gossiping with two of the high school girls to do so properly.
I’m not sure what a twenty-something woman has in common with high schoolers, but apparently, today that commonality was more important than watching my fucking practice.
Hannah—a senior and veteran of the squad who thinks she’s God’s gift to cheerleading—stands front and center, chin held high.
She’s putting up a front for the others, but I’ve seen the look in her eyes enough times in and out of the ring to know that she knows she just came within inches of a career-ending injury.
“I have half a mind to kick you off the damn squad right now,” I say.
Hannah is someone who likes to push the limits, to see just how far she can go, and then reel back at the very last minute.
But she’s never done anything this stupid—not in front of me, anyway.
Despite some of the other squad members expressing their concerns, I’ve never caught her acting up, and supposedly neither had Jana.
Now I’m starting to wonder if that was a lack of attempt on Hannah’s part or a lack of attention on Jana’s when I wasn’t around.
There’s been a handful of complaints brought to my attention over the last month, insinuating that Hannah has been wobbling her ankle on purpose in the middle of a liberty, over-exaggerating her movements when setting up stunts, and pretending to fall too early to mess with her bases… to name a few.
But today I finally witnessed it myself.
As she prepared to dismount, I watched as she twisted mid-air when she should’ve fallen back into a basic cradle, and her bases weren’t prepared.
The group landed in a twisted mess of limbs, and she came within inches of landing neck-first into the turf.
Thus, the reason for the scared look in her eyes.
“I was just messing around. It’s not that serious.” Hannah scoffs, trying to maintain some dignity.
“Not that serious?” A fire flares in my chest. “You almost broke your damn neck. You think that because you’re the captain and one of the more experienced girls, that means you can do whatever you want.
Trust me, Hannah, even the best get injured.
I’ve seen it happen more times than you can count, and not everyone is lucky enough to come back. ”
“Oh, you mean like your ex-boyfriend?” the blonde teenager quips, rolling her eyes, and I hear more than a few gasps from behind her.
Hannah and I have had a complicated relationship since I took over as head cheerleading coach at the high school my first summer back home.
Hannah was moving from her sophomore to junior year and was most likely to be voted captain, which gave her a big head.
I wasn’t impressed with the teacher’s pet act, and when she realized sucking up wasn’t going to get her anywhere—with me, at least—her attitude did a complete one-eighty.
“That’s it, you’re suspended,” I say.
“What?” Her face falls. “Coach, you can’t do that!”
“I just did.”
Hannah looks around at her squad, but every single one of them avoids eye contact. “Jana,” she pleads, but my assistant coach shrugs. “This is bullshit. I’m going to make sure that my father hears about this.”
“Great. Have him give me a call, and we’ll discuss how I kept his daughter from ending up in a wheelchair.”
“I am so sorry,” Jana says.
Hannah storms past us, mumbling under her breath. Something along the lines of: I’ll have your job for this. I roll my eyes. One day she’ll thank me for this. Maybe.
“The girls had asked me a question about tryouts for next year, and I got distracted. I know it’s not an excuse. I’m sorry.”
“Jana, the next time I ask you to lead practice,” I say, and turn to look her dead in the eye.
“I expect you to lead, not hand it off to a teenage girl with an attitude problem and an ego the size of Texas.” I don’t wait for her response, turning back to the rest of the squad members, who have a new pep in their step as they form a half circle in front of me.
“If anyone else here thinks they are bigger than this squad or thinks they can perform stupid stunts without consequences, now is the time to leave. I will not have any of you getting hurt on my watch because you think it won’t happen to you.
It can, it will, and it has. I’ve seen it happen, and I don’t want that for any of you. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Coach,” they say in unison.
“Okay, from the top then. Casey, fill Hannah’s spot for now.”
I adjust my baseball cap further over my eyes and shove my hands into my windbreaker, taking a step back to watch the routine.
How in the hell did I get here? I went from main-eventing the biggest nights in sports entertainment to…
this. Most days, I wonder if it’s worth babysitting high schoolers so I don’t have to face what I left behind.
Because if I ever want to step foot in the world of Elite Wrestling Entertainment again, I will have to face it…
Face him. It’s been over two years. You would think I’d be able to move past it by now, but…
I’m not sure I ever will. Some days are easier than others.
I won’t think about him at all, and then something will happen, and like a tidal wave, everything comes crashing down, sweeping me away in a sea of memories.
I’ve kept my distance from most things EWE, but I know it will never leave my life completely.
Not only is my best friend still an active member of the roster, but the Williams boys have continued to get together on Monday nights and every other Thursday to watch.
They tried to hide it from me, moving their viewing parties from our parents’ house to Crew’s house.
I guess they didn’t think I’d notice when everyone went missing twice a week.
About a month after I moved back home, I walked in on them watching Battle of Champions, and all five of them—my brothers and Papá—froze like a deer in the headlights.
“You don’t have to hide this from me,” I said. “Just because I left doesn’t mean I don’t want you to watch. I just…I need some time before I watch again.”
After that, they returned to their regularly scheduled get together centered around our childhood living room, despite Mamá’s protests that it was insensitive to me.
But I truly didn’t care. They could watch if they wanted to, and after a while, I started to join them on occasion.
I wanted to know what everyone was up to, but every time, I would find myself missing the ring…
the people…him. So, I stopped because it was the only way to (somewhat) ease the ache in my heart.
To fight the call in every fiber of my being to return to the ring.
However, it was hard not to watch when I walked into my parents’ house three nights ago.
My brothers were watching the end of Monday Night Rage, and they were pissed.
They just knew they were about to witness Brody Wilder and Brooks Taylor get screwed out of the EWE World title.
Austin Spencer had inserted himself into their match, making it now a triple-threat match at Capitol Punishment scheduled to take place later in the month.
From what my brothers said, Spencer had been getting in the middle of Brooks’s shit for a while now, and the writing was on the wall.
They’re going to get Viviana involved next, was the first thing that came to mind, followed by: She’s lucky I’m not there.
“Heads up!” A voice rings out, catching my attention right before I’m nailed in the head by an oncoming soccer ball.
I stick my arm out, deflecting the rogue ball, and send it soaring off the field.
When I glance down the field, a boy stands near the goal with a sheepish grin.
“Sorry, Coach Skye,” he yells. Coach Skye, not Coach Williams, because on my first day, some of the girls had been a little too excited that Savvy Skye was going to be their new cheerleading coach.
And I didn’t have the heart to tell them no when they asked if they could call me by my ring name when they seemed so excited.
Gathering the ball, I drop-kick it back down the field and wipe my hands on my thighs.
A soccer ball to the face is the last thing I need right now.
This weekend is Crew’s wedding, and Amara is already freaking out.
I don’t need to add a bruised bridesmaid to the list. Speaking of, I’m surprised I haven’t heard from anyone in the last twenty minutes.
That’s why I was late to begin with, helping Mamá and Amara with some last-minute wedding errands.
Today might be the only day since my first month of coaching that I was happy to leave for practice.
You’ve got to be kidding, I think when my phone begins to vibrate inside my jacket pocket. Jinxed myself. Digging it out of my pocket, I almost drop it when I see the name on the screen.
When I call out to my assistant coach, she perks up immediately. “I, uh…I need to take this. Can you handle this for a minute?”
Jana laughs. “Wedding crisis?”
“Something like that,” I say, picking up my pace to get away from the chaos on the field.
I take another look at the name just to be sure I’m not imagining things.
I could let it go to voicemail, but knowing him, he wouldn’t bother to leave one.
He’d call me back in a day or two, instead, or not at all.
But after what I saw a few days ago, I’m too curious not to answer. “Hello?”
“Savannah!” His gruff voice rings out. “It’s Amos Rafferty. How are you?” He introduces himself as if I don’t already know.
“Amos,” I breathed, still wondering if I’m imagining the whole thing. It’s good to hear his voice again. “I-I’m good. How are you?”
“Great, great. I hear your brother is getting married this weekend.”
How does he know about that?
“Yeah, he is. High school sweetheart.”
“That’s great. I’m sure it will be a beautiful day. Give them my best, will you? Hey, listen, I was hoping to catch up before the festivities begin. Do you have a minute?”
My stomach tightens. It can’t be this simple, can it? “Sure.”
“Look, Savannah, I’m just going to cut to the chase.
We want you back.” Hearing the words, my already racing heart leaps out of my chest. “I know things were a bit…tense when you left, but I think it’s the perfect time to bring you back.
You’ve been gone long enough to reset and recharge, to let things go and—”
“You want me to come back?”
“Yes,” he says immediately. “We want to re-sign you for at least two years, if not—”
“Amos—“
“You don’t have to give me an answer right now. But if you’re at least open to the idea, I’d like you to come sit down with me, Noah, and Brian on Monday.”
He wants me to come back. Every fiber in my being screams out yes, but there is still a small sliver of doubt in the back of my mind. What am I going to do about him?