Page 3 of Coach Me
I can’t say what would have been better in the long run, but I do know that Miles is just a kid. He didn’t ask for any of this. I’m trying my best to atone for all that Kate and I haveput him through, even if I can’t help but feel like I’m failing at it. I am trying.
Miles rams into the front door of the facility with a giggle. “I beat you!”
I let the smile on my son's face pull me from my somber thoughts. “I didn’t know we were racing. That’s not very fair.”
Miles pushes off the door and bounces at my feet. “What is it you say, Dad? Don’t be a sad loser?”
I let out an amused huff. “You mean sore loser.”
“Same thing.”
I push open the door and Miles jumps across the threshold. “I guess you’re not technically wrong, but still, if you want to race, you need to let the other person know it’s a race.”
Miles hums before wiping around to me. “Okay, so can we race now?”
I tug at the door to make sure it’s locked, then scan the parking lot for any potential moving vehicles but considering we’re the last ones here, it’s only us in the lot.
“Alright, first one to the car gets to pick what I cook for dinner tonight.”
Miles doesn’t miss a beat. “Can it be ice cream?!”
Okay, I should have expected that. Miles has been fighting me on meals for a few months now. Some days it’s worse than others, but I can’t help but feel like this is a result of the divorce. Another point for the failing dad scoreboard.
“That could be the dessert of choice, but real food has to go with it.”
“Alright.” Miles flicks his eyes to the sky as if the term “real food”offends him.
I shake his shoulder. “Come on, you count us down.”
Miles jumps around to face the parking lot and gets into his ready-to-run stance. “Okay, one…two…three…go!”
Chapter 2
Lucie
“Okay, everyone, line up!” I announce loudly to my class as I hit the small chimes by the door. I watch as each student scrambles from their desk to grab their backpack and races to the front.
Their sweet little minds are so ready to be out of this place and start their summer break. I get it, I do, but it hits me as each kid makes their way in line—I did it. My first year as a teacher, I crafted each of these little beautiful minds.
The squeals of excitement grow louder as each child files into the line. I see little hands start to high-five and hug, but they’re kids, so the joy can get out of hand quickly. I hit my chime again.
“Eyes and ears…”
All the kids turn their heads to face me and say, “Looking and listening.”
“You all did so amazing this year, each and every one of you should be proud of yourselves.” A small tug pulls at my heart.Okay, Lucie, don’t cry, these children will judge you.
Taking a deep breath, I start again. “Let’s do our end-of-day affirmations for the last time, but we have a new one this time, okay?”
Cheers erupt in the sweetest voices, and I can’t bring myself to care about the volume.
“I am smart,” I say.
“I am smart,” they repeat.
“I am kind to others and myself.”
“I am kind to others and myself.”
