Chapter 4 — The Plan
Coach Price didn’t do speeches.
He did facts.
Max sat in the small conference room with his arms crossed, jaw tight, leg bouncing under the table like his body wanted to sprint out of the building.
Across from him sat Coach Price, Coach Ramirez, and someone from athletics compliance who looked like they’d rather be anywhere else.
Max felt their eyes on him like he was a problem they were trying to solve without touching.
Coach Price slid a packet across the table.
Max didn’t pick it up.
Coach Price didn’t care.
“These are the conditions for your return,” Coach Price said.
Max’s mouth curled. “My return. Like I died.”
Coach Price ignored that too. “Controlled practices only for the first week.”
Max stared at him. “I’m already suspended.”
Coach Price nodded once. “And when you’re back, your minutes will be earned.”
Max’s chest tightened.
Coach Price continued, “No public outbursts. Not on the field. Not on the sideline. Not in the tunnel. Not on social media.”
Max’s jaw flexed. “I didn’t post anything.”
The compliance officer spoke, careful. “The perception includes your reactions on camera.”
Max’s eyes narrowed. “So I can’t have a face now.”
Coach Price finally looked directly at him. His expression was flat, but his voice carried weight.
“You can have a face,” he said. “You can’t have a scene.”
Silence snapped tight.
Max’s knee bounced harder.
Coach Price slid the last page forward. “Mandatory check-ins with performance services.”
Max knew what that meant.
Sabrina.
His stomach twisted like it was annoyed he had one.
Coach Ramirez spoke then, quiet but firm. “This isn’t negotiable.”
Max leaned back in his chair. “So I’m on a leash.”
Coach Price didn’t blink. “You’re on a plan.”
Max’s laugh came out sharp. “Same thing.”
Coach Price’s voice stayed calm. “A leash limits you. A plan protects you.”
Max wanted to argue.
But the problem was, Coach Price sounded like he meant it.
Coach Price leaned forward slightly. “You want to play next season.”
Max didn’t answer.
Coach Price didn’t need him to. “You want the scouts to see you as a leader.”
Max’s throat tightened.
Coach Price tapped the packet. “This is how you get there.”
Max stared at the paper like it might catch fire.
Coach Price added, “You’ll meet with Sabrina Yu three times a week. Short sessions. Clear goals. She reports attendance, not content.”
Max’s eyes snapped up. “She reports to you.”
Coach Price met his gaze. “She reports that you showed up and did the work.”
Max scoffed. “And if I don’t.”
Coach Price didn’t raise his voice. “Then you sit.”
The words landed clean and final.
No drama.
No threats.
Just consequence.
Max’s fingers curled into fists under the table.
Coach Ramirez spoke again, softer. “Max. Nobody here is trying to embarrass you.”
Max’s laugh was bitter. “My face is on every screen.”
Coach Ramirez’s expression tightened. “And we’re trying to make sure it’s on screens for the right reasons next.”
Max stared at the packet.
He hated this.
He hated being watched.
He hated being told what to do like he was a kid.
He hated that a small part of him knew he’d earned it.
Coach Price slid a pen across the table. “Sign that you understand the conditions.”
Max stared at the pen like it was a dare.
He reached for it anyway and signed.
The compliance officer collected the packet and stood. “Thank you.”
Coach Price didn’t thank him. He didn’t congratulate him. He just nodded once.
“Good,” Coach Price said. “You start controlled practices tomorrow. Be early.”
Max pushed back from the table. “I’m always early.”
Coach Price’s eyes didn’t change. “Then keep being early.”
Max walked out before his temper could start talking again.
In the hallway, the Locker Room Rules board stared at him like it always did.
NO DISTRACTIONS.
Max stopped.
He could feel his warning signs trying to flare up—tight chest, noise in his ears, heat in his neck.
He caught the moment right before it tipped.
Name it.
He stood there, breathing hard through his nose.
Then he heard footsteps behind him.
Sabrina Yu appeared in the hallway like she belonged there.
Clipboard in hand. Calm face. No flinch.
Max’s chest tightened anyway.
He turned toward her, ready to bite.
Sabrina spoke first, voice level. “Coach Price sent me your schedule.”
Max’s mouth curled. “So now you have my calendar too.”
Sabrina didn’t blink. “I have your sessions.”
Max stepped closer by half a step, testing. “You like this. Being in charge.”
Sabrina held his gaze. “I like clarity.”
Max scoffed. “I don’t need clarity. I need people to stop pushing me.”
Sabrina’s expression stayed steady. “People will keep pushing.”
Max’s jaw tightened. “Then what.”
Sabrina’s voice stayed calm. “Then you learn to stay on your feet.”
Max stared at her.
She wasn’t scared of him.
That was new.
And it was unsettling, because fear was a kind of control.
Sabrina glanced at his face like she was reading his pulse without touching him. “You’re baiting.”
Max’s eyes narrowed. “What.”
Sabrina didn’t soften it. “You’re trying to make me react so you can call me the problem.”
Max’s stomach tightened.
Because she was right again.
He leaned back slightly, annoyed at himself. “You think you know me.”
Sabrina answered, simple. “I know patterns.”
Max’s voice dropped. “I’m not your pattern.”
Sabrina nodded once. “Good. Then you can change yours.”
Max’s throat went tight like he’d swallowed something sharp.
He didn’t know what to do with her calm.
So he went for the only thing that felt safe.
He turned away.
Sabrina didn’t chase him.
She spoke once, clear and firm, like a boundary set on the line.
“Same time tomorrow,” she said. “Don’t be late.”
Max paused without turning back.
He hated that it made his chest go tight.
He hated more that it wasn’t anger this time.
It was something like being seen.
He walked away anyway, because walking away was what he knew.
Behind him, Sabrina’s footsteps didn’t follow.
And that might’ve been the most unsettling part of all.