Chapter Seven Vaughn
Chapter Seven
Vaughn
“How could you let this happen?” Dad looks down at my algebra test like his stare alone can help him better understand. If it does, then that makes one of us.
It’s like the more I study, the worse I get. I didn’t just fail the test. I bombed it.
Dad lets out a heavy sigh. “I have no other choice but to bench you Friday night. Possibly longer.”
My mind swirls with objections, but I stay quiet. There is nothing I can say to make this better, and my throat is so thick, I don’t trust my voice to speak anyway.
My dad was once described by a reporter as unflappable. No matter what questions people threw at him or how hard they tried, he never lost his cool with the media. But right now he looks like he’s at a complete loss. At least he hasn’t grounded me.
He tosses the test paper on his desk. “Until you bring this D up to a C, minimum, you aren’t to go anywhere but school, home, and practice. Do you understand me?”
Well, so much for not being grounded.
“Yes, sir.”
“I already talked to Dr. Frievalt, and he has graciously agreed to let you retake the test.”
For the first time since Dad started lecturing me, I finally perk up. “He has?”
Dad’s chin dips in a small nod.
“When?”
“Next Wednesday.”
A little hope sparks inside of me. Regionals is next Saturday. Dad must read it on my face.
“If you pass the test and show me that you’re taking school and your position as captain seriously, then you can lace up for the game.
But if this happens again, I’ll take the leadership position from you.
You can’t guide this team if you’re struggling to keep yourself afloat. Do we have an understanding?”
He stands, and I do too. It’s time for practice, and I’ve never been happier to get out onto the field. It’s the one place everything makes sense.
“I understand.”
“One last thing.” Dad’s voice has lost the edge of frustration, but his hard expression is not reassuring.
An unpleasant feeling spreading through me. I don’t think I’m going to like this last thing.
“You don’t play with the team; you don’t practice with the team.”
My eyes go wide. “Dad—” I start then stop myself. Right now, he’s not my dad. “Coach, I need to be out there.”
Not just for myself but for the team. Every moment of practice is critical to prepare.
We’re going up against the best teams in the state.
This is not the time to make big, sweeping changes in our lineup.
Though I guess Coach is just hedging against the likely outcome that I won’t be back this season.
“And you will be. You’ll set up for drills, fill water bottles, wash jerseys, load the bus, anything the team needs.”
Arguing won’t make a difference, and I guess I deserve it. I let my team down, but it’s going to be humiliating filling water bottles for guys I’ve played next to for years.
“Yes, Coach,” I say, jaw tight.
He hesitates a beat like maybe he wants to say more. Perhaps something more encouraging than whatever this depressing talk was. I’ve never felt worse.
“I’ll see you out there,” he says finally and brushes past me.
I let out a long breath and then follow him.
I come up short outside his office when I spot Lacey.
She’s dressed in athletic shorts and a crop top with tennis shoes and her pom-poms in hand.
The cheerleaders practice outside between the football and soccer fields.
She’s gone out of her way no matter where she’s headed.
Dad’s office is on the other side of the wall, and I don’t think there’s any chance she didn’t hear him reprimanding me.
I square my shoulders as I approach her, attempting to infuse myself with confidence I am not feeling right now.
She shifts uncomfortably and moves her blue and silver pom-poms to one hand. “I didn’t mean to overhear.”
“It’s fine,” I say when what I mean is I am horrified, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
“I’m sorry about the test. Dr. Frievalt is going to let you retake it?”
“Next Wednesday,” I say. “Not that it matters. I had weeks to study for the last test and still failed. Another week isn’t going to make a difference.”
Her brows pinch together, and her mouth twists until it falls into a sympathetic smile that makes me feel even worse. It’s not like Lacey thought very highly of me to start, but I really hate that she now knows I’m an idiot who is going to fail Algebra II.
“Don’t say that. You can do it.” Her voice takes on the cheeriness I’ve often heard from her, but never directed at me.
I’m not quite sure how to reply, so I don’t.
“I could maybe take a look,” she says, back to sounding a whole lot less cheery.
My brows rise, and I don’t even try to hide the surprise on my face.
“If you want,” she adds quickly.
“What’s the catch?”
“The catch?”
“You didn’t want to help me before. Why the sudden change of heart?” I should shut my mouth and just accept her offer, but I need to know what’s prompted her to show up now.
“I feel bad, I guess. And the team needs you. Austin and Rowan are moping around like the world is ending.” She tries a smile, but it’s small and brittle.
Guilt. Well, that makes sense. Couldn’t be because she actually wants to help me. Not that I can really afford to be picky.
“Sure.” Worth a shot. If she can’t help, then I really am out of luck.
She keeps staring at me. Maybe she expected me to be more enthusiastic about her offer, but honestly, I’m not even convinced she can help me anymore.
“I have to get to practice,” I say, tipping my head in the general direction I need to go.
“Right. Okay. How’s tonight after practice?”
From the humiliation of filling water bottles to tutoring. My night is lining up to be stellar. “That works for me.”
Her demeanor changes immediately. Bright smile, shoulders pushed back, pink in her cheeks. She even has a little swing in her ponytail. “Great.”
It doesn’t feel great, but then again, I’m the one who needs a tutor. Even playing water boy to my teammates sounds better than standing here while Lacey smiles at me like she’s just solved all my problems.
She’s still aiming that big grin at me when she asks, “Do you want me to come to your house, since it’s one of the three places you’re allowed to go?”
My face flushes hot. There goes my last shred of hope she hadn’t overheard me with Dad.
“Sounds good.” I look to the ground and start to shuffle past her. I stop two steps away and force myself to meet her gaze. “Thank you, Lacey.”
* * *
Practice is as miserable as I imagined. I set up every drill but don’t get to do any of them. Instead, I spend the two hours filling water bottles and moving cones around. And any time there’s not something for me to do, Coach has me running laps around the field.
My mood is shit by the time the last whistle blows. Of course, I don’t get to relax because as soon as the rest of the guys leave the field, I have to take everything to the storage shed, and then when I get to the locker room there’s a pile of sweaty jerseys waiting for me.
As captain I’ve gladly taken on more responsibility than the rest of the team, which is why I think using it as punishment feels especially awful. I’m no longer leading. I’m a cautionary tale.
And it’s working. Everyone’s avoiding me or sending me sad, sympathetic glances. A couple of the freshmen don’t seem to know how to act around me. One guy wouldn’t even let me fill his water bottle at practice.
“Hey.” Rowan hangs back after everyone else has gone home. “Want to hang out? We could grab some pizza, dust off a bottle of Jack, rage against the injustice of it all?”
He grins playfully like he already knows my answer won’t be drowning my sorrows in liquor.
“I can’t. I have to wash the jerseys and then go home and study.”
“All right. Do you want some help? I’m pretty good at laundry. I’ve only turned one or two of my shirts pink.”
“Nah. I got it.”
He lifts his bag to his shoulder. “What’s the plan, Cap?”
I shake my head as I toss my own jersey on top of the pile. “No plan.”
“You always have a plan.” He tries to smile, but whatever he sees on my face makes him second-guess it. “Whatever you need. I’m here. My grades aren’t much better than yours, but maybe two of us can add up to one dude smart enough to pass that test.”
Rowan is a playful guy by nature, but he’s a good teammate and friend. I’ve rarely taken him up on offers of help, but I know I could always ask if I really needed something.
“I appreciate it, but Lacey is going to tutor me.” Saying it out loud has a fresh wave of unease settling low in my stomach.
“Yeah?” Rowan’s optimistic smile is back.
I turn my wrist over to look at the time. “If I ever get out of here.”
“Are you sure I can’t help?” He starts to put his bag down, but I wave him off.
“Dad will just find some other tasks for me if I don’t do this one on my own.”
“All right. I’ll get out of your way then. See you tomorrow.”
* * *
I text Lacey as soon as I’m finished at the school, and by the time I get home, she’s already waiting for me. She stands at the kitchen counter with my dad. They’re both smiling like her showing up at my home to tutor me is a completely normal, everyday occurrence.
I drop my backpack on the floor just inside the door from the garage. They turn in unison to look at me, smiles falling in a synchronized way.
“Hey,” Lacey says, infusing her voice with some of her usual peppiness. She looks just the tiniest bit nervous.
“Hi.” My gaze moves to Dad.
“Lacey says she’s going to help you with algebra.” His mouth rests in a firm line.
“Yeah. Is that okay?” I ask, just a hint of irritation bleeding into my tone. I know I screwed up, but I hate feeling like every move I make is under a microscope now.
“Of course.” He sounds thrilled, which I guess he probably is. He probably thinks she’s my golden ticket. I hope he’s right.
“I left dinner out for you. Put it away when you’re done. And if you use the living room, try not to mess up the set.”