Page 47 of Redemption
The girl knows how to swing.
“Come on, you clown,” I call over my shoulder. “We have a practice to start.”
After my interview with Lily, I asked Campbell to be a part of my coaching staff. We played together in high school, but he never went further than that. Not that he couldn’t have. He was just as good as Langston and me, but it wasn’t the path he wanted to follow. He knew he was always going to be an officer. He has a way of connecting with people that makes them feel comfortable.
It’s why I need him. I might know all the skills these kids need to learn for the game, but Campbell knows how to connect with them.
When I’m halfway across the field, Campbell sprints to catch up. The team is waiting on the track where they’d been warming up with laps. I keep my eyes on them as I talk.
“Listen, keep an eye on our quarterback.”
“Who? Tanner?”
I nod, thinking about the last time I saw him. I can see where MJ is coming from—I caught the kid trying to smoke, for Pete’s sake—but I also can’t say that I didn’t try stupid things in high school, too.
On the first day of practice, I laid my rules out for all the boys—no smoking, partying, or drinking. They are in high school, but I’m not an idiot. These boys like to toe the line of what they can get by with, but they don’t understand how dangerous it can be for them to cross that line.
All it takes is one time.
I can see Campbell studying me out of my peripheral, but I don’t look at him. I don’t want him to know how much MJ’s words have shaken me. MJ and I have a lot of trauma. I don’t want to shove that onto a kid who is just being a kid. I’m not saying she’s wrong, but I won’t jump to conclusions. Having Campbell keep an eye on Tanner won’t hurt.
“Okay—” Campbell drawls, “but is there something in particular I’m looking for?”
My steps falter, trying to figure out how much to tell him. It’s best if I just keep it simple for now.
“Just—tell me what you see.”
He pauses for a minute, considering me.
Campbell is not stupid.
He knows if I’m asking, I have a good reason behind it. Turning so he’s walking backward, he salutes me. “Can do, Coach.”
I don’t bother to hide my eye roll from him.
______________________
Practice was rough, and that’s all I have to say about that—otherwise, I might slip into my truck and bang my head on the steering wheel or, worse, cry.
MJ wasn’t wrong about something being off with Tanner. I can’t put my finger on it yet, but Campbell and I agree that we have to pay attention to the kid.
I hate that she was right. Not because it’s her, but because I know the pain it will cause her to be right.
Add the problem with Tanner to the fact that the entire team has an ego bigger than life, and it was an all-out disaster. What’s worse—they haven’t even earned those egos.
The team hasn’t made it to a district game in several years, let alone state, and they act invincible—like they don’t have to listen to a word I say. But that stops now. I’m not their old coach who was content to be walked all over. I’m here for one thing and one thing only—to help shape them into the men they will grow up to be. I don’t care if we don’t win a game all year, which won’t happen if they will listen to me. It’s more than winning a game to me.
Lowering my tailgate, I sling my equipment bag into the back of my truck.
“That’s an awfully ugly thinking face you’ve got on there,” a deep voice rumbles from behind me.
I chuckle and turn to face Silas.
“What are you doing here?
“Can’t an old man come to watch his favorite coach at practice? Did you think I would let you take this job without joining in on the fun? I got a lot of knowledge, you know.” Silas taps his pointer finger against his temple.
“I’m sure you do,” I say, exasperated with the conversation already. “Let’s hear it then. What did you think?”
