Page 67 of Just Like Home

The boys’ groans were followed by a chorus of verbal grievances.

“That’s not how we talk about women on my field,” Cole shouted.

“Come on, Coach. We were just kidding.” Hotchke set his feet and glared at Cole.

“Take a lap, Hotch, or don’t bother coming back.”

After a pronounced pause, the kid chucked his helmet on the ground at Cole’s feet and walked off toward the locker room while the other boys stared. Hotchke was their best running back.

Cole would hear about this later. From the athletic director. From the boosters. From Bilby. He watched the other boys run a half-hearted lap as Matt arrived at the center of the field.

“What’d they do?”

“Disrespected a woman,” Cole said. “Don’t tell me I’m being hard on them.”

Bilby held his hands up in front of him. “I won’t. If our job is to make them better men, it starts there.”

“We’re going to need to make some changes around here, Bilby,” Cole said, thinking about how hypocritical it was not to ask for help after telling not one, but two different people there was no shame in it.

“What kind of changes?” Matt asked.

“I need to be a better coach,” Cole said. “And I’ve got to find a way to unify this team.” He didn’t bother looking at his assistant coach—he knew the guy was probably staring at him, slack-jawed.

The boys reached the end of their lap. Most were winded, though their run had been anything but fast. They circled back up. Cole stood in front of them, searching his mind for a magic solution to make them a team, but he came up empty.

He had to do better by them. He owed them that. Before he could say a word, he saw the boys’ attention drawn in the distance behind him. He turned and saw Asher walking toward them, dressed for practice. Next to him, an annoyed-looking Hotchke.

“Found this in the locker room, Coach,” Asher said.

Hotchke didn’t make eye contact with Cole. Instead, his gaze focused steadily on the grass between them. Asher pushed Hotchke with his shoulder, and the kid finally looked up.

“Sorry for disrespecting your lady friend, Coach,” Hotchke said.

Cole glanced at Asher, then back at Hotchke. “Forgiven,” Cole said. “So long as you keep that trash talk out of my locker room and off this field. Better yet, don’t talk like that at all.”

Hotchke nodded.

Cole took a step toward him, barely a foot between them now. “The world has enough guys treating women like dirt, Hotch. It’s so unoriginal. Be a better man.”

“Yes, Coach,” Hotchke said.

“Now, take a lap.”

Hotchke appeared to be trying not to roll his eyes, but Asher grabbed his arm, and the two of them ran off toward the track.

And the sight of their obedience made Cole feel for the first time in a long time like his team had a shot. He and Bilby split the boys up for drills, and Cole cast a sideways glance at Asher. The kid tossed him a look, then a barely detectable nod, as if to let him know everything was good between them.

They’d been running drills for about forty-five minutes when Bilby made his way over to Cole.

“They look good today,” he said. “Asher’s got a fire I don’t think I’ve ever seen.”

Cole kept his eyes on the field. “He sure does.”

“You have something to do with that?”

Cole shot Matt a sideways look, the remnants of their unpleasant conversation playing on repeat in his mind. Cole shook his head. “Doubt it.”

But what if it had? What if something he’d said had gotten through to Asher? What if that moment out on the field at Haven House actually made the kid want to turn his life around?

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