35. Chapter 35
Cole
Jackson went down hard. Not that it was surprising. He’d begged for a chance, and I’d finally let him play. The other team saw him hesitate for half a second and took him straight down.
I jogged out onto the field. Jackson popped up and limped toward me. I clapped his shoulder and walked him to the bench.
“I knew football was a bad idea!” a shrill voice said.
I turned. Mrs. Hall.
Of course.
“I’m fine, Mom,” Jackson said. “I just rolled my ankle or something.”
She glared at me. “Why did you put him out there? He’s smaller than the others.”
I crossed my arms. “You signed the permission form and paid the fees. You had to know he might see the field.”
She huffed. “I didn’t think he would actually play.”
“You paid for summer camp, equipment, and a uniform so he could sit on the bench?”
“Go sit down, Mom,” Jackson muttered.
Her jaw tightened, but she turned and marched back to the bleachers.
“My mom is so embarrassing,” he said, staring at the field.
“Don’t worry. Mine can be too.”
He glanced at me.
“How’s the ankle?” I asked. “Need the trainer?”
“Nah. I’ll walk it off. Once it stops throbbing.”
“Don’t overdo it. I don’t let my guys play hurt. Small injuries turn into big ones.”
He nodded. “At least you let me play. The last coach never gave me a shot.” He looked down at his grass-stained jersey and grinned. “And hey. My uniform’s dirty.”
I smiled. “That’s what it’s there for.”
“I hope all the girls at the after-party notice.”
“People don’t wear their gear to the party.”
“I might,” he said, rubbing his ankle. “It’s not like I’m in football for a career or something.”
That was a good thing. “Yeah? What do you want to do?”
“I’m going to be a pro gamer.”
Of course.
My attention went back to the field. We were winning, but only by one touchdown. My stomach was tight, and pressure was building up behind my eyes. I tried not to let games affect me this way, but it seemed to be the way I was built. Close games almost killed me.
I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Protect the edge!”
Johnson was just standing there like he’d bought a ticket instead of a uniform.
“Johnson! Edge!”
He snapped into action.
Nice.
I forced myself to breathe. I refused to be one of those coaches who hyperventilated on the sidelines and blamed the refs for gravity.
“Pay attention, Griff!” a voice yelled behind me.
I turned. Brynlee was hanging over the fence at the bottom of the bleachers like she was about to jump in and run the play herself.
I frowned. Bryn loved football. Understanding football?
Debatable. Since she worked at the middle school, she knew every player, their jersey number, and probably their locker combination.
“Wrap up!” I yelled. “Wrap up! Wrap up!”
“Do your job, Todd!” Brynlee called.
I hurried over. “Knock it off, Bryn. You’re going to confuse my guys.”
She shot me a look, then leaned forward again. “Left! Left! Oh, come on! What was that?”
“Bryn,” I muttered, “stuff it.”
She ignored me completely.
Typical.
I went back to my space. Other people yelled out to the team, but I felt like Bryn was extra loud and annoying. Probably on purpose.
I glanced at the bleachers. Sadie was sitting up high, alone. She’d been with Bryn earlier, but Sadie didn’t take me as a hang over the fence and yell type.
“Yes, yes, yes!” I yelled as my guys piled on the player with the ball. I paced a little.
Games usually flew by for me, but this time, as the coach, it was dragging. The headache wasn’t helping.
With three minutes left, we were tied and burning a timeout.
My team circled me, helmets bumping together.
“Look at me,” I said, lowering my voice. “You know this play. We’ve run it all week. Stop trying to be heroes. Do your job. Protect your lane. Trust each other.”
Harris shifted his weight. “Coach, if they blitz—”
“They will,” I said. “And that’s fine. We’re faster on the outside.”
I looked at Harris. Really looked at him. He had potential, but he overthought everything. Giving him the shot in a tied game with three minutes on the clock was risky. If he failed, he’d be public enemy number one tomorrow at school.
“You wanted the ball, Harris? This is it.”
He swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
I stepped back. “One clean drive. That’s all we need.”
We broke.
The snap.
The quarterback dropped back.
The pocket collapsed.
My heart tried to leave my chest.
Then—
Harris cut left.
The pass went high.
Too high.
He jumped.
Fingertips.
He bobbled it.
The crowd sucked in a breath.
He secured it.
And ran.
I forced myself to breathe. I was too tense to even yell. Bryn was shouting something behind me, but I couldn’t hear it.
Thirty yards.
Twenty.
Someone grabbed his jersey.
He spun free.
Sweat poured down my back.
Ten.
Five.
Touchdown.
“YES!” I yelled and pumped my fists into the air.
I didn’t realize I was running until I was halfway down the sideline. The crowd exploded, and the cheerleaders jumped up and down screaming. My team crashed into the end zone like they’d just won the Super Bowl.
I stopped myself from scooping Harris up—barely. The rest of the team did it for me, hoisting him into the air.
My first game as head coach.
And it was a win.
I rubbed my temples and felt the tension ease a notch. I probably wouldn’t fully recover until after a good night’s sleep. I hoped every game wouldn’t take this much out of me.
After congratulating everyone, I moved over to where Sadie and Bryn stood.
“Good game, Coach,” Bryn said.
I punched her lightly on the shoulder. “I could’ve done with a little less commentary.”
She laughed. “You know that’s never going to happen.”
I reached over the fence and grabbed Sadie, lifting her over. She gave a small squeal as I set her on her feet.
“Did you have fun?” I asked.
She grinned. “Did I enjoy watching you pace back and forth, looking like the world was ending? Absolutely.”
I laughed. “It was intense. I think coaching is more stressful than playing. When I played, at least I had control over my own mistakes.”
“I get that,” she said. “I’d hate to coach.”
“I could do it,” Bryn cut in.
I glanced at her. “No chance. You yell things when you don’t even know what’s happening.”
“I totally know what’s happening.”
“Sure you do.”
She laughed. “I’ve got to go. Congrats.”
I turned back to Sadie. “Are you going to come to all the games?”
She groaned. “Maybe. That felt so long. I might convince Alyssa to come next time, and we’ll bring snacks. Snacks cure boredom.”
“Boredom? How could you be bored?”
She smiled. “I think your team needs you.”
“Do you mind?”
“Nope. Go.”