Page 91 of All This Time
“Fletcher Adams…Blossom Peak’s own bona fide celebrity.” I step through the door and wait for him to lock it behind me.
“I’m still a regular guy.”
As I follow him down the same halls I once walked through as a student, eerie familiarity creeps up my limbs. When we arrive at the principal’s office—the same one Principal Bell had back when I went to school here—we both take a seat in our respective chairs across from each other at his desk.
“So, how can I help you, Mr.—” I stop myself. “Principal Hastings.”
He acknowledges my correction with a nod. “Well, I’ve been watching your career, as you can imagine.”
“I appreciate the support. Thank you.” Lacing my hands together, I rest them in my lap.
“Of course. So how much longer do you think you have left in the game?”
If I had a dollar for every time I’ve been asked this question recently, I could probably retire a year early.
The truth is, when it comes to the NFL, I’m getting toward the age where I’m practically considered ancient. Ten years in the league is a long time, but very long for a wide receiver, with an average career length of just under three years.
“Taking it season by season at this point, sir.”
He nods. “Have you thought about what you might do when you’re ready to hang up the cleats?”
“A little bit, but I’m just not done yet. Why? What’s up?” My nerves are humming under my skin right now.
“Well, I was wondering if you’ve thought about coaching,” he says, clearing his throat as he shifts in his seat.
“Oh. Well, uh…” I rub the back of my neck. “I honestly don’t know.” But then something dawns on me. “Wait. My dad is the coach. Are you saying…”
“Think of what a full circle moment it would be to have the two of you coaching together, or you even taking over for him one day. I mean, Blossom Peak having two back-to-back NFL stars as coaches would be pretty spectacular.”
Nausea swirls in my gut over the idea of working alongside my dad. I mean, it was bad enough being his player and son. But trying to be his colleague? Expecting him to respect me as an equal? I think pigs would fly before that would happen.
“Look, I appreciate the offer, Principal Hastings, but…”
He holds his palm out toward me, cutting me off. “Just think about it, okay? There’s been a few…complaints,” he says with an arch of his brow, “about the coaching staff and I’m just trying to be proactive and look out for the program.”
“Complaints?”
He nods but says nothing more.
Is he alluding to my father? Has he put his hands on another kid? If so, I’d beat the shit out of him myself, consequences be damned.
Luckily, his cell phone rings on his desk before I can spiral too far. “Uh, I’m sorry, Fletcher, but I need to take this.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Standing from my chair, I reach out to shake his hand. “Thanks for the offer.”
“It would be an honor to have you. Keep me in the loop on your career decisions, will ya?”
“Sure thing.”
But as I head back out to my truck and glance at the football field once more, this uncertainty builds in my chest.
I know I want Laney. That much has become clear to me since I returned.
But do I want Blossom Peak too?
Her life is here, and mine…isn’t.
My job, my house, my other friends and teammates—they’re all in Charlotte. But once my career is over, does that mean I’ll leave Charlotte too?
