Page 81 of The Coach

Carl waves me over, pointing at the TV. “You should’ve seen the game, last week, Ivy. This Knox guy hasit.”

My stomach twists.

I grab a glass of water, sipping carefully. I didn’t even tell my parents I saw it. “Yeah, I, uh, heard it was a good game.”

Mom tilts her head. “How was Chicago anyway? You and Lauren have a good time at the art museum?”

I swallow. It still doesn’t seem real that I was definitelynotat the art museum, as I had told my parents.

“Oh, you know. Just to get out of town. The city is so pretty this time of year.”

She narrows her eyes, sensing something, but thankfully, Carl keeps talking.

“Smart guy. And young, too! You don’t see a lot of head coaches that age.”

My mom nods in agreement. “He carries himself well. Good leadership presence.”

They’re raving about the father of their grandchild without even knowing it. I grip my glass so tightly I’m surprised it doesn’t break.

I should tell them.

But instead, I decide—I’ll let Jackson introduce himself to them…when the time is right.

This is too crazy, anyway.

I clear my throat. “So, uh, can we talk about something else?”

By the time I get back to my apartment, it’s already dark.

I park on the street, hugging my coat tighter as I step out. The crisp September air bites at my skin.

And then—something shifts.

A figure.

Standing near the alley, just far enough away that I can’t make out his face.

A cold shiver rolls down my spine.

I blink, my breath hitching.

Is that…Kyle?

I take a step forward, my pulse hammering.

But when I look again—he’s gone.

Just an empty street.

I swallow hard, hurrying inside and double-locking the door.

I need to stop letting him get in my head.

It’s been months.

He’s gone.

Right?

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