Chapter Seven
Razor paced outside the office door. She shook her arms out and puffed her cheeks in a long exhale. You can do this. You can do this. She shook her head side to side and bounced on the balls of her feet. Then she knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Ashton called from the other side.
Razor clicked the latch and peeked inside.
Ashton sat at her desk, glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she looked at her computer screen.
Oh man, Razor never knew Ashton wore glasses, and she was very happy at that moment she hadn’t.
Her blood was always on a low simmer whenever Ashton was near.
In glasses that made her look smart and sexy?
Razor bit her lip to keep a moan from escaping.
It also didn’t help that Ashton’s blouse was open at the collar, and the tease of bare skin attracted Razor’s eye. She forced herself to raise her gaze and ran smack into a friendly smile.
“Razor. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Razor gulped down her embarrassment and studied her sneakers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I can come back.”
“Nonsense. Come. Sit. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
Razor moved to the chair and crossed her jean-clad leg. “Are you sure? It can wait.”
Ashton turned off her computer screen. “Actually, I was just finishing up my application to the IRB, so your timing is perfect.”
“What’s the IRB?” Razor asked.
“It’s the Institutional Review Board. Part of my degree requires a field study for my dissertation, and I need to submit a questionnaire and all materials pertaining to the study to make sure any participants’ rights are not being violated.”
“Sounds tedious.”
“It is,” Ashton agreed. “But it’s worth the extra time and preparation required if it allows me to make my argument.”
“And what is your argument?”
“I’m trying to show there’s a correlation between how an athlete leaves the game and mental health.
I believe if a player retires, then they have better mental stability when transferring into life away from the sport.
If an athlete leaves due to injury or misconduct, they struggle with the transfer more. ”
Razor smiled. “Sounds interesting, and you obviously are looking forward to diving into the research.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because your eyes are dancing with excitement just from that little bit of information you gave me.”
Ashton chuckled and removed her glasses, much to Razor’s disappointment. “Thank you, and yes, I’m very excited. But my dissertation is not the reason you wanted to talk.”
Razor sighed. She couldn’t stall anymore. “You’re right. It’s not. I’m here to talk about Summer.”
“What specific concerns do you have with Summer?”
Razor waved her hands around. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that we’re not cohesive.”
“Well, it’s only been a couple of weeks. These things take time,” Ashton said.
“Yes, but with the season starting this weekend, time is not a luxury we have.”
“I have to agree with you in that regard. Any ideas on what’s causing this friction?”
Razor shook her head. “Summer is being overly difficult, almost bratty. Like she’s intentionally fighting every suggestion I make just because it’s me suggesting it.”
“How do you mean?”
Razor took a deep breath. “She’s been struggling with the curveball, and I’ve been giving her pointers on how to make it better, but she just scoffs and walks away.”
“Uh-huh, what else?”
“When I try to ask her questions about herself, she shuts me down.”
“Have you done this before or after you try to tell her what’s wrong with her pitching?”
Razor startled. “Um…after.”
Ashton stood and leaned against the front of her desk, arms crossed. “Razor, I’m surprised I have to say this, but I do. You are not Summer’s coach.”
“I know that, but—”
“Do you?” Ashton interrupted. “Because it sounds to me like you’re trying to coach her, then brush it aside like you weren’t actively undermining Nancy.”
“That’s not…I mean, I wasn’t…” Razor couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Look.” Ashton unfolded her arms and leaned back in a more relaxed pose. “I believe what you’re doing is coming from the heart. You want Summer to succeed. And you also want to succeed yourself. But you must remember, you were brought on to the team to catch. Not to coach.”
“That’s exactly what Nancy said,” Razor mumbled.
“And she’s right,” Ashton replied. “I’ve watched you these past couple of weeks, and Summer is not the only problem you’re having. Am I wrong?”
Razor shook her head.
“You come into practice, and instead of going over to your team, you come and stand around Courtney, Nancy, and me. At first, I thought it was because of your panic attack, and being around people you knew probably helped ebb the effects. Am I right?”
“You aren’t wrong.”
“But in the weeks since, you’ve continued to join us instead of them. What do you think that says?”
Razor hung her head and sighed. “That I’m an asshole who doesn’t see myself as part of the team.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Ashton sat in the chair next to Razor and clasped her hand.
“You’re in a very unique position where you’re a player but you’re also an adult.
You feel comfortable around us. We’re your friends.
But on that field, we are not your friends.
We are your coaches. The team needs to know they are your friends.
That they’re part of your circle. Especially Summer. ”
Razor groaned and slouched in her chair. “So, what do you recommend?”
“Be a better teammate and friend to those girls. Also, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Just be you and do what you do best, and let the rest come naturally.”
“Anything else?”
“You need to be respectful of Nancy.”
Razor wanted to laugh, but Ashton’s features were stern. “Are you serious?”
“Extremely.”
“How can you ask me to do that after what she did?”
Ashton stood and glared down at Razor. This would’ve been a good time to have those glasses on. Or not, Razor thought as the image of Ashton in those glasses and one more button undone on her blouse popped into her head.
“I will admit,” Ashton said, breaking through Razor’s daydream, “I only know a little of your history together. But you can’t continue blaming her for what happened.”
Razor nodded. What Ashton said wasn’t anything she hadn’t considered herself. Nancy wasn’t the reason Gary got away with his crimes. Razor was, but she didn’t want to tell Ashton that. Not yet.
“This is a big ask, Ashton.”
“I know it feels that way, but it’s really not. Nancy is a good coach. You’re living proof of that. Courtney wouldn’t have brought her on otherwise.”
Razor pursed her lips, silently and regretfully agreeing with Ashton. She’d thrived under Nancy’s hard-nosed approach, and it had made her a better catcher before it all went to hell.
“I’m not telling you to let go of what Gary did. That’s something that will never dissipate until he gets what he deserves. But maybe it’s time to stop blaming the wrong person.”
A sniffle escaped and Razor wiped at her cheeks before the tears could fall. “I know you’re right. It’s just hard to let go of that anger after so much time.”
Soft fingers touched Razor’s arm. “Just imagine how much better you’ll feel when you do.”
Razor released a breath. To not be angry anymore would feel amazing. And if she did, maybe she could become the teammate Summer and the team deserved.