Page 75 of The Coach

“What if we just let me get through this season, then fire me?”

Ed blanches. “What?”

“Pretend you didn’t find out,” I state. “If anyone asks, whoever came to you did so at the last game of the season, and then fire me.”

“Tanner.” He sits forward, leaning against his desk. “Are you unhappy here?”

“No,” I reply, a headache coming on. “I love it here. I love the team. I love the staff. I think this is probably my dream job.”

“But…” he leads, his brows bent in obvious confusion.

“But she’s the one person in my life I can count on. I’m not about to break up with her over some stupid bullshit rule. She’s a master’s student, for fuck’s sake. She’s not some freshman.”

He lets out a long sigh, like this is draining him. “I know, but I didn’t make the rules.”

“You’re the director, you can make some rules.” I had little doubt he’s swept stuff under the rug before.

He sits for a moment, assessing me, then lets out a deep sigh. “Fine, I will wait until after, and then… I’ll fire you.”

I stand, reaching my hand across the desk, and he takes it. “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

“You better not,” he replies. “You know, it’s going to look bad to fire you after we win.”

I smirk. “Yeah, it is going to look bad for you.”

I step around the chair and head for his door, my heart in my throat, my eyes dry and my temper pissed.

I have to quit a job I love, leave my home again most likely, just to appease a pissed-off twenty-year-old.

Mick was going to lose her shit.

thirty-one

MICK

“So, I’m not in trouble?” I ask, sitting stiffly in the seat across from my adviser. She smiles at me and shakes her head.

“No, you’re not in trouble. Why would you think that?”

I let out a breath of relief, grateful that whatever is happening has nothing to do with Tanner and me.

“No reason, you just haven’t had me in this year, and I was wondering why.”

“I called you in to talk over classes, finals, and to see where you were at.”

“Where I’m at?”

“If you’ll finish in time.”

My heart drops. “Does it… look like I won’t?”

“You’ve taken a lot of classes this semester to make up for the ones you missed in your first year.” That had not been my fault. “The burden of that would normally crush a student, but you take it in stride. Hell, I’d like to use you as an example for future students.” She looks at some papers on her desk. “You’ll finish your last final on May fourth.”

May fourth… my last day of school ever.

We discuss things further, making sure that everything is in order, and she checks on my mental health as well. She was probably my favorite student adviser I’ve ever had. Others didn’t always check in on those things. They would be more concerned with the classes and if someone was failing them, then yank them from those classes to keep the grade point averages of the students at a decent level.

When I leave the building, I feel both lighter and worried.