Chapter 33
Hayes
“Wrap it up, boys.”
I blow my whistle and let it drop to my chest. Campbell stands beside me, and the boys jog toward us, scooping up their water bottles.
It’s the first practice after our trip, and I’ve given them an hour to settle in—but now it’s time to talk.
Once they are close enough to hear me, I say, “Take a knee.”
One by one, they all lower to the ground on one knee and wait. Not once have I ever felt like I was just here to coach football, but this moment feels bigger than any game we might ever play.
Some people say I’m being dramatic, but this moment could be the difference between life and death for some of these boys—it was for Langston.
Searching through the sea of kids, I look for the one boy closer to downfall than any of them.
Tanner is already staring back at me, his face set in stone. I look away, keeping sight of him in my peripheral, and when he thinks I’m not looking, he lets that mask drop. His forehead crinkles like he’s in pain, and I wonder how often he is still having those headaches. Next time I see MJ, I’ll have to ask if he’s been coming to her during the day.
I won’t play him injured, but how can I prove he’s still having problems if the doctor gave him the all-clear and Tanner refuses to speak up?
A thought hits me, turning my stomach inside out.
What if Eric paid the doctor they saw to give Tanner the all-clear?
I wouldn’t put it past Eric, not after seeing how he was with Tanner and the pressure he puts on the kid. He could have easily gone out of town to get the all-clear, and as bad as this sounds, not all doctors have the ethics they should. I saw that time and time again playing football at the upper level.
Maybe I should ask Dr. Harrison if he’ll come in and do physicals for the whole team. That way, it’s not just Tanner being looked at.
But then again, after that disaster between MJ and her dad at the soup kitchen and Dr. Harrison’s complicated relationship with football anyway, I might be better off finding a different doctor.
It’s a problem to think about after practice.
Clearing my throat, I ask. “Who would like to tell me one story you took away from our trip?”
Heads swivel as they wait for someone else to step up and volunteer, but no one comes forward.
“I’ve got all night.” I cross my arms, waiting for someone to find their courage. I just need one kid to step up, and the others will follow.
A reluctant hand raises from the back of the group, and I look over, surprised to find one of our freshman linemen with his hand up.
“Go ahead, Isaiah.” At fourteen, he towers over most of the seniors, outweighing most of them too. But despite his size, he hardly talks. He has a pronounced stutter, and like most kids, he’s embarrassed by it—not that he should be, but telling that to a fourteen-year-old is like talking to a wall.
With his helmet in his hand, he stands. His fingers fidget with his chin strap, and red floods his face.
“I—I—I—” he starts, trying to force the words out.
Chuckles come from the other side of the group, and I slice my gaze that way, trying to find the culprit.
With my attention elsewhere, I don’t notice Tanner standing and placing his hand on the younger boy’s shoulder until he says, “It’s okay, Isaiah. You’ve got this.”
Pride pokes at my chest, but I keep my face neutral, afraid if I react too much, Tanner will take two steps back. I expect him to take a knee again after comforting Isaiah, but he remains standing, hand on the other boy’s shoulder, and offering comfort while Isaiah gathers himself.
And even though red still creeps into Isaiah’s cheeks, he doesn’t stutter nearly as badly this time. “I spoke with a ma-man that was probably your age co-coach. He was in a wh-wheelchair.”
“Probably got along faster than you can get a sentence out,” someone snickers.
My eyes zero in on the person it came from, and I can’t say I’m surprised—Morgan Ellis—a senior and a punk. Out of the two games we’ve played, he’s almost gotten kicked out of both for running his mouth, even the ones he was on the sidelines for.
Campbell steps forward to take care of this one, but before he can, Morgan is lying on the ground, with Tanner looking down at him.
“Oops, sorry, Morgan. I must have gotten tripped up there—didn’t mean to knock you down.”
Funny thing—Tanner hasn’t moved from beside Isaiah. He must have been just sneaky enough to hide a kick behind the other kneeling boys, effectively knocking Morgan to the ground.
Morgan glares up at Tanner, but Tanner’s face is blank, revealing nothing. I have to turn my head so the other boys don’t see me laugh.
Should I get on to Tanner for that? Probably.
Will I? Absolutely not.
Morgan, on the other hand, will be running laps until he pukes after practice.
When I’m sure I have my face under control again, I look back at Isaiah. “Did you learn how he ended up in the chair?”
He nods, glancing at Morgan out of the corner of his eye before he lifts his shoulders high and looks around at the other boys, finally coming back to me. “Yes, sir. He wa-was a war veteran. He st-stepped on an IED. He—uh—sa-said something I’ll never f-forget.”
“What’s that Isaiah?”
“He sa-said that the de-devil wanted his li-life, but God to-took his leg instead. Co-coach, he was ha-happy to lose his le-leg, even though th-that path le-left him homeless. I-I’ve never looked at li-life like that.”
“Isaiah, I can honestly say I haven’t either. But I think that gentleman’s story should make us think about the things we can live without and the things we can’t. Thank you for sharing. Would anyone else like to share a story they took away with them?
Hands shoot up in the air, and over them all, I look at Tanner, who is looking at his teammates with pride and something else—something he’s not ready to admit to himself yet.
But I’ll be here when he is.
______________________
I’m sitting in the high school principal’s office during the middle of the school day. This hasn’t happened since that time in high school when Langston and I snuck up on the roof during the middle of the day and skipped school.
Lily called me last night and asked if I would come in for a visit with her and Tanner.
I’m glad she gave me a day’s warning because I had the whole night while on patrol to think about it and cool down.
At least, I thought I was, but that was before Tanner walked into the office with a smug smirk like this is funny.
“Sit down and wipe that look off your face if you know what’s good for you,” I growl.
Usually, I have more patience than this, but I’m getting fed up. It’s always one step forward and a hundred back with him.
“Hayes,” Lily warns, and I turn back to face her, shoving my hand through my hair and taking a deep breath.
Yelling won’t do any good, but I’m at my wits’ end. I thought I was getting through to him. I was even ready to let the boys start playing again, especially after checking in with their teachers. They’ve been participating in class, answering questions, and turning homework in, but then Tanner does something stupid like this. So the boys will be playing—minus him.
Yesterday, I gave the boys a day off. I felt like we’d made some progress at practice. They deserved a break, but now I’m regretting that decision.
When Lily called me last night and said that two of my players had been in a fight after school, I thought she was lying, but nope, here I am, staring at the culprit.
Apparently, Tanner shoved Morgan into a locker. I’m not saying Morgan didn’t deserve it. The kid likes to run his mouth, but without Tanner speaking up about what happened, the school’s hands are tied. Tanner will take the fall even if Morgan did provoke it.
“Tanner, please take a seat,” Lily says, her voice a lot calmer than mine was two seconds ago.
I’m proud of Lily. She deserves this principal position because she can understand these kids better than anyone. I want good things for her, even if I will never feel the same way she does about me. I’m not stupid. Even though we both decided to be friends, I see how she looks at me sometimes, but I’ve tried to discourage it. It’s why I’ve been avoiding her lately. I don’t want to lead her on. She deserves to find someone who can love her back.
Tanner sits at the same time the door to Lily’s office bursts open. Eric and Josephine stand in the doorway. Eric looks like a raging bull, and Josephine’s face is a mask of Botox, unable to move past its injected setting.
“Ms. Carson,” Eric says, bulldozing his way into the office to stand behind Tanner, his wife following him, and not for the first time, I wonder where this Tanner’s dad is. There’s no wonder he’s having problems with these two as his example. “You wouldn’t be starting this meeting without us, would you?”
“Even if I were Mr. Westbrook, it would not change the outcome of Tanner’s punishment.”
Surprise hits me at the flintiness of Lily’s tone, but I’m smart enough to tamp it down and not let it show on my face.
Lily’s spine is made of steel. It makes me want to stand up and start a slow clap for her. Eric thinks he can shove money around and get what he wants, but it makes me happy to see that Lily will be another example for Tanner to see that not everyone will bow down to his stepdad.
Red creeps into Eric’s neck. Lily puts her hand up, preventing him from speaking again. She looks at Tanner, and her face softens. “Tanner, do you understand why you’re in trouble?”
He nods, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. Gone is the anger from moments before, and now all that’s left is a kid struggling to make good decisions. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And you don’t want to offer up any other part of the story?”
At this, he sits up straight, stiffening his back, and looks her dead in the eye. “Sometimes it’s better just to stick with the version people expect from you, ma’am.”
Lily sighs, then looks at Josephine. “You may take your son home now.” She turns to me. “Tanner is suspended for three days. That means he will not be attending the game on Friday.”
I keep my eyes on Tanner, waiting for him to react—throw a fit or something—but he sits quietly, accepting his punishment without a word.
It’s Eric who takes up the position of a child.
“Now, wait a minute,” he bellows.
I stand, readying to put myself between him and Lily if he steps any closer, but she beats me to it. She stands, slamming her hand against the desk. The sound shocks Eric into silence, and Lily lowers her voice when she speaks. “You may take Tanner home now, but next time you step into my office, Mr. Westbrook, I expect better conduct from you. You are a member of our school board, and I suggest you present yourself as such. I will not be intimidated by you.” She pauses, a menacing smirk slipping onto her red lips. “You are dismissed.”
Eric splutters, searching for the words to respond, but I don’t let him. I cup his shoulder and guide him to the door, opening it for him and shoving him out. All the while, Josephine follows, her nose pointed in the air, and I wonder how she can see with her head shoved so far up Eric’s butt. In the meantime, Tanner has risen from his chair, following them out and tucking his chin to hide the smile on his lips.
When Tanner gets to where I’m standing, he drops the smile and turns to face me head-on. “I won’t apologize.”
Shaking my head, I sigh, “I wouldn’t expect you to, Tanner. I’ll see you bright and early on Saturday. You have some running to do to make up for missing a game. Bring a bucket. I’m sure you’re going to puke.”
He nods, turning to leave.
“And, Tanner—.” He stops, looking at me over his shoulder. “It’s always better to tell the real version, no matter what people expect.”
Another nod, and then he’s walking away, following his parents out the door.
Closing the door to Lily’s office again, I throw myself into the seat I vacated earlier. “Well, that was exciting.”
Lily laughs, sitting back in her chair and pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Sure, Hayes, that’s what we’ll call it.”
There’s a window in Lily’s office that looks out into the main office, and from the corner of my eye, I see a flash of red hair. Without even thinking about it, I turn my head to look.
MJ stands in the office, laughing with one of the secretaries. Her head is thrown back, and her arm is wrapped around her stomach, holding it as she laughs. She looks so happy.
My chest tightens. MJ can’t see me from here because the window is tinted on the outside, allowing me to drink her in while she’s unaware. It’s a small taste of the happiness I want to give her, but the problem with small tastes is that it always makes you crave more.
“Uh-hmm.” Lily clears her throat, and I snap out of my trance, offering her a guilty smile in apology.
She doesn’t return it.
She stares at me like she’s realizing something for the first time, and I squirm in my seat, uncomfortable under that stare.
After a full minute, she says, “You really love her, don’t you?”
There’s sadness in the tilt of her lips. I want to apologize—but I never offered Lily anything other than friendship—and to apologize would mean I regret how I feel for MJ.
No matter what’s happened in our past, that’s the one thing I haven’t done. I could never regret loving Mallorie Jade Harrison.
So, instead, I offer her the truth. “Since before I even knew what love was.”