Page 39 of The Way the Heart Breaks: Jade’s Story

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I lean against the wall and look at the clock, wondering why Coach is late for a meeting he called, one he insisted was only him and me. Not Lucas this time. I hate when he pulls this crap. I don’t like keeping things from Links.

I sure as hell don’t like the fact that Coach is now fifteen minutes late on a Friday afternoon when I have shit to do.

I push off the wall and look around, seeing a toolbox and empty metal bins on wheels. I grab a screwdriver and head over to take my nameplate off my locker, and then Lucas’s.

“You can’t have it all away, motherfuckers.” I grumble as I toss the screwdriver back in the box.

“Was wondering if either of you would end up taking something to remember this place by.”

“Surprised to see anything left; I was sure the board members would have it all boxed up and, in their basements, to be auctioned off when he goes pro.”

“They will,” Coach Saville says as he sits on the bench, taking off his hat and crossing his arms.

Unable to pull on a smile, turn a shit situation into a positive, a new beginning, I let my agitation roll out. “They couldn’t wait one year? They couldn’t let us just get through our senior year?”

He shakes his head, eyes showing not a care in the world.

“You’re out of a job, Coach,” I huff. “Losing the opportunity to see, at very least, Lucas play D1. The first and last kid that comes off your field and goes pro.”

He stands up. “I narrowed down your best option. Spoke to Landon last night⁠—”

I cut him off, “That’s gonna piss Lucas off.” And I’m gonna have to deal with it.

He scrubs a hand over his face and nods slightly. “The choice wasn’t made lightly.”

“Then why call Landon? You know what a piece of shit he is.”

He nods and then explains, “I needed to know we’d have his support to ensure —”

“You could have called my father.” When he doesn’t reply or respond in any way but looks down, I ask. “You did call him.” He nods. “He said no.”

“Your mother⁠—”

I finish the sentence for him. “Hates Lucas and doesn’t want me playing ball. She doesn’t believe I’m good enough.”

He points at me. “You have moments of doubt because of her. Not this year. You and Lucas have a team to carry, one more state championship to win.”

That belief he has in me is only matched by Lucas’s.

I nod, “Where we going, Coach?”

When he pauses, it hits me in the balls, balls that will be so backed up going to farm country that they’re likely to explode. “Blue Ball Valley?”

He hides his smirk by running his hand up and down his face. “Only team that didn’t have a long losing streak or massive blowouts. Solid team, winning team with you two.”

“You sure about that because we killed them.”

“They have two new seniors who stopped playing ball a few years ago. Watched a few practices and had they not taken a break, they’d be playing just about as good as you and Links.”

“A winning season?” He nods. “Need me to convince Links?”

He laughs, “You know I do.”

“His ex isn’t going there; she’s headed to Ithaca, so that headache is gone.”

“Good. He gets even more irritable around her. Let him know, there’s a coach being added to Blue Valley’s roster as well.”

“Don’t mess with me, are you for real?” I ask, feeling a bit emotional.