Page 4 of Silent Count
I hear Coach talking in the hall. Then the door opens, and he shuts it behind him.
Shit.
“Callaway.” He nods, then takes a seat at his desk. “I’ll get right to it because my wife is expecting me home for dinner tonight since I haven’t been home all week.”
There’s a folder sitting on top of a stack of papers, and he takes it and sets it in front of him, then puts on his glasses. “You know why you’re here?”
“I have a few guesses, sir.” I fold my hands together, elbows on my knees. “My psychology class? Or the show?”
He nods. “Yes to both. But let’s do the class issue first. Son, how did you get a D on your first quiz in an introductory class? You’re one of the smartest kids I know. This doesn’t track.”
I swallow a lump in my throat before I answer, “Well, sir, I’m not exactly sure why. Honestly, I’m still shocked my advisor missed putting this required class in my schedule freshman year. And I’m also confused about why I need it for my business degree.”
“It doesn’t matter why. What matters is that it’s required, and you’re barely passing, which is a big problem for me, son. I need you on that field for every game this season. I want thattrophy again this year. And I know you want to go out strong—am I right?” He tilts his head and looks at me over his glasses.
“Yes, sir.” I nod.
“Good. So, here’s what we’re gonna do. You’ll be assigned to a tutor, and you’ll establish a schedule with her around your practice schedule while also being mindful of her availability. Am I clear?” He opens the folder and starts scanning the paperwork.
“Yes, sir, absolutely respectful of her time.” I sit back and grip the arms of the chair. “Is she a TA or something?”
He shakes his head. “I believe this is a paid job for her, so really, whether you show up or not, she’ll get paid, but Bo, you’d better be there for every single second. If that grade isn’t moved up to at least a B on your next paper, I’ll have to pull you, and I really can’t afford to do that. Understand?” He doesn’t look at me, but he takes a sticky note off a pad and starts writing.
“I understand.” I scoot forward in my seat to see what he’s writing.
“I’d also gather that your father monitors your grades?” He picks up the note, folds it, and hands it to me.
“That he does, sir. I’ll have to let him know about this and about my tutoring. It’s always better if he hears it from me first.” I chuckle uncomfortably and take the sticky note from him and put it in my pocket.
My dad is the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court in California, and he keeps tabs on me pretty closely for multiple reasons.
“I can imagine so, which brings me to the next topic. The Sports Network wants to shadow you. The docuseries is about the team primarily, but they are specifically asking to have access to you during the entire season. Now, I have sent over all the paperwork to your father to review, and he signed off on the accessibility to you from a legal standpoint. But as your coach, Iwant to tell you that if at any time you don’t feel comfortable or you need a break from filming, just say the word. Again, I need you to be on top of your game, and I won’t risk the distractions this might cause for you.” He leans back in his seat, assessing me.
“Yes, sir. That shouldn’t be a problem. Just tell me what they need from me, schedule-wise. Although I’d prefer they try to keep their filming at the field as much as possible. Not that my personal life is all that exciting, but still, I’d like to have some downtime to myself, and I definitely don’t want them following me to tutoring.”
He lightly smacks his hand on the table, signaling the end of our conversation. “I don’t think that will be a problem. Call this girl as soon as possible and get your time coordinated. I want an update by Friday on when your first meeting is.” He stands and walks around his desk.
I take that as my cue to also stand. “Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it right away.”
He opens the door and stands beside it, waiting for me to leave. “See you at practice tomorrow, Bo.” He holds his hand out for me to shake.
“See you tomorrow, Coach.” I release his hand and walk out the door.
I can hear one of my roommates still hanging around in the locker room, so I head in the direction of his loud voice.
“Sup, Callaway. I didn’t realize you were still here. I thought you’d left with King.” Silas finishes packing up his bag, zips it, and heads in my direction.
“Nah, I had a meeting with Coach real quick. You riding with me?” I don’t really want to tell him I need tutoring right now, especially not in front of my other teammates.
“Yep, let’s roll. I’m hungry, and I always love it when it’s Charlie’s night to cook.” He laughs and rubs his stomach.
I hold out my fist for him to bump. “No doubt it’ll be good. Her nights are by far my favorite.”
We live in the same house with one of our other teammates, Casey King, and his twin sister, Charlie. We all take turns making dinner one night each week and eat together. It’s a nice tradition they started a few years ago when Charlie moved in.
Silas and I make the walk to my SUV, chatting about practice and some of the new plays we’ll be running this season. We’ve been practicing for a month now, but the season is just getting started, so new plays and adjustments are usually made once the coaches see how we work together as a team.
When I get to my car, I put my gear in the back seat, then get into the driver’s seat. I pull out the note from my pocket so I don’t forget about it and wash it. That would be bad. I open it to stick onto my phone and see the name written on it. She just so happens to be the girl I can’t stop thinking about since I met her. But she doesn’t know it because I’ve never made a move. She kinda intimidates me, to be honest.
