Page 8 of Make the Play
“Setting up,” he finishes. “So much to set up.”
“Ah, you’re helping someone. Is it the new teacher?”
“I’m not helping the new teacher,” he replies, tone unexpectedly clipped given how innocuous the question seemed to Jason.
“Okay, maybe the?—”
“Do you know where the English building is?” he interrupts, the sharpness in his tone overshadowed by the way he takes a measured breath.
Jason’s seen enough frazzled students to recognize the signs of anxiety or stress and to be well versed in not taking that kind of thing personally.
“Sure, but you’re on the wrong side of campus,” Jason answers, softening his tone. He takes a step into the other’s personal space so he can pluck the map from his hands and turn it around. “This building here is the front office, but you’re going down here right now. See, this walking path here is where we are now. If you continue down this way, you’re going to pass the gym and then reach the sports fields. Soccer is here, baseball is down there, and right past us another hundred feet down that hill and behind the gym is the football field.”
“Ugh, that’s definitely not where I want to go.”
“Not a fan of football?” Jason asks, unsure why the guy’s expression has him wanting to laugh rather than be offended. He looks so completely horrified at the idea.
“God no. Football, or sports in general—just no.”
“No sports,” Jason laughs. “Got it.”
The guy sighs heavily, tracing his finger over the path Jason just drew, tapping the spot where they currently stand. “This campus is…spread out. I looked at this map online, too, but it’s different in person. I swear I thought schools like this only existed in movies with everything outside and full of all this sunshine and palm trees, but no.”
Jason can’t help but be charmed by his rambling. “I take it this isn’t what your own school looked like?”
“Not even close. My high school was all one building, and there definitely wasn’t so much grass and trees and well—this,” He opens his arms and gestures at the general scenery. “This place looks like a vacation destination, not a prison.”
As far as Southern California schools go, it’s not that atypical, but living this close to the beach combined with their more favorable tax bracket means Santa Leon is one of the nicer high schools in the area, especially for a public school. Between the landscaping and copious seating areas for lunch and breaks, it really is a beautiful campus.
“I mean, schools should never look like a prison,” Jason says.
“Mine did.”
“Well, that sounds depressing,” Jason says with a frown. “Where did you go to school? It can’t have been in SoCal. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a high school like that around here.”
“It was—no, it wasn’t here.” His expression shifts and he reaches for his left hand, spinning the gold ring on his pointer finger. There’s some kind of engraving on it, but Jason can’t tell what. “So can you tell me where the English building is, please?”
“Of course,” Jason answers, feeling a prickle of guilt for being such a yapper when it’s clear this guy isn’t in the mood. “The English building is behind us, just to the left of that tall building there, which is our library and—” but he’s cut off by someone calling for him.
“Coach!”
Jason turns to see one of his senior players running across campus. As a teacher and coach, Jason isn’t supposed to have favorite students or players, but he definitely does, and Matty is one of them. Not that he gives any of them preferential treatment. Jason makes sure he’s impartial and fair, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t go above and beyond for some of the kids, the ones who need more than the school can give. Kids like Matty. Despite his academic struggles, he works his ass off, never complains, and he’s so damn polite. He’s also doing everything on his own, working a part-time job to help his mom in the summer and on weekends with his rigorous football schedule.
“I thought I told you I didn’t need to see you until classes start, huh?” Jason’s smile gives away that he’s teasing.
“I know, Coach, but I wanted to know if I could talk to you about something.”
“Everything okay, Matty?”
“Yeah, it’s just—” Matty fills his lungs with air, looking oddly small considering his bulking six foot two frame. He’s radiating anxiety, the same kind he saw coming off the guy beside him, and a familiar urge to soothe hits Jason. He hates when people are upset.
“Why don’t we head down to the field,” he suggests, knowing Matty is always most relaxed there. “We can toss the ball around and talk.”
Matty’s exhale is palpable. “That’d be great, Coach.”
“Just let me say bye to—” but Jason stops mid-sentence when he notices he and Matty are alone, his mystery companion now gone. He can’t help but frown, turning around towards the library, but there’s no sight of him.
Turning his attention back to Matty, he jerks his thumb over his shoulder towards the football field. “Come on, kid. Tell me about your summer.”
