Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Whatever. It wasn’t like I was going to message someone on a hookup app to ask for real-life advice. Geez, I wasn’t that desperate.
I dismissed the notion with a laugh as I pulled myself off the bench and headed across the grass.
I locked up the athletic office before trekking the high school’s tree-lined campus to my office in the math and science building, taking a moment to appreciate the stately brick and ivy façade, the high ceilings, and the turn-of-the-last-century retro lighting.
Westgate was no ordinary prep school. It had the look and feel of an Ivy League college, and that wasn’t a Hollywood-style trick of smoke and mirrors either. This place was a well-preserved original founded by a railroad baron who’d owned half the city in the late 1800s. It was a legit historical landmark and had been featured in dozens of films and television shows over the years. Tourists occasionally drove by the famed iron gates facing west to take pictures.
Yep…this was a good gig.
I graded papers for an hour, then locked up my office and headed for the parking lot. My mind was all over the place, which was probably why I didn’t notice the figure leaning against the hatch until I pointed the fob at my 4Runner.
“Hey, Coach.”
I jumped back a step, blinking wildly. “Jesus, Carly. You scared me.”
Carly snorted merrily. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, making her look much younger than seventeen. “Sorry. You were zoned out.”
“Yeah, I tend to do that.” I opened the hatchback and tossed my gear in the SUV. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m gay. That’s what happened on the field. That B wanted to rattle me and I let her. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blow you off earlier. I apologize if I was rude. That’s all.”
All right. She’d literally hand-delivered a second chance for me to do the right thing. I had to make this count.
“You weren’t rude. But I’m glad you waited to talk to me. I’m on your side, Carly.”
Her radiant grin made me feel like a fucking hero. “Thanks. I don’t think it’ll be a big deal. My teammates have known for a year.”
“A year?” I repeated.
“Yeah, and they don’t care. My parents don’t care either. I have one weird aunt and uncle who live in the mountains who think I’m a little savage, but they thought that before I came out.”
“Family.”
“I know, right? But the people who matter are cool. Like Katie. I know you guys broke up, but my family is going to show up in droves now to support me at games. It’s just how they are. You’ll probably see more of her and…”
“She called me earlier.”
“Cool. She told me she was going to,” Carly said carefully. “I hope that’s not weird for you.”
“No, it’s all right. We’re adults.”
Carly nodded. “Hey, just so you know, I really wasn’t gonna say anything, but I met someone special, and it seemed crappy not to acknowledge it. I forgot there were jerks who’d want to see me fail because I have a girlfriend. I should have known better, and I should have told you sooner. I thought Katie would do it for me, but…I’m sorry if you got blindsided.”
“Don’t apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Well, I almost punched that bitch today at the scrimmage. That’s kinda wrong,” she singsonged playfully.
“True,” I conceded with a brief nod. “Don’t start fights. I need you on the field.”
“I know, I know.”
“You don’t have to fight on your own anyway. I’m here, Coach Shana is here. We support you…one hundred percent.”
Carly smiled and held her hand up for a high five. “You’re pretty cool, Coach J.”
“Thanks. See ya tomorrow.” I smacked her palm.
Okay…that went well.
I should have been relieved. Carly was in a good space and yeah, seeing Katie often wouldn’t be ideal, but wanting to support her cousin was awesome. And it had nothing to do with me.
So I could officially move on to my next set of worries. Like what to make for dinner. I drove away feeling better, but…not quite.
Something still felt wrong. I couldn’t say what.
I stopped by the gym and the grocery store, moving like a man possessed. But there was a method to my madness. Keeping mind and body busy was my go-to method for clearing out unwanted thoughts, and I was doing pretty well…until I pushed open my apartment door.
I barely made it to the kitchen when the chorus in my head started firing at me. You’re a fuckin’ pussy and a loser. You don’t deserve to live here. You don’t deserve your job. You don’t deserve your life.
There was more, but that was the gist. I turned on some music and a basketball game on TV to drown out the inner voices, humming while I put my groceries away. It didn’t work. I showered, changed into sweats, and returned to the kitchen to make something to eat. The voices got louder. And louder.