“Names?” I asked.
“I’m Ming,” the Asian offered. “That’s Jasmine.”
“Nice to meet you.” I forced a smile. “Not gonna lie. I know very little about this sport. I’ve never coached anyone in my life. Don’t even know what we do first.” I figured if I was humble and honest upfront they might respect me. Either that or devour me for dinner.
“We gotchu,” Ming said. “At least for the first set. Then we have to change and stretch for our game.”
I’d take it.
Jasmine bounced, excited. “Let me get some paper.”
Ming led me across the court to the “bench,” which was a row of royal blue padded folding chairs, each embossed with a rearing silver stallion.
“First, we have to figure out who’s starting.” Ming stuck her fingers in the corners of her mouth and whistled so hard it left my right ear ringing. “Shanaya!”
My eyes moved to the Black girl who snapped to attention.
But then it felt as if someone had lit the gym floor on fire beneath me, because right behind her, standing on the top row of the bleachers, in all his drop-dead swoleness, was Holden, biceps popping as they folded across his chest. And he was deep in conversation with none other than Mr. Alvarez, the athletic director who looked like he couldn’t care less that Byrd was MIA and I had no clue what I was doing. Like he wasn’t getting paid big bucks for exactly this sort of situation. Alvarez said something and a slow, perfect smilespread across Holden’s rugged face. He ran a hand across his bottom lip like he was thinking about something, and the ground tilted a little. Like a pathetic cliché, I dragged my bottom lip between my teeth. I could almost feel those powerful arms around me, those strong lips on mine, those autumn eyes drilling into me, begging for my soul.
And then my gut panged and I thought I might puke. Because in mere minutes I was going to coach his niece’s team in their first game of the season and I had no idea what I was doing. I hadn’t known him that long, but Holden exuded confidence in a way that only the most capable of people can. He could probably coach this team with his eyes shut and his mouth gagged, and he’d look like he stepped straight off a centerfold as he did it.
I pressed a freezing cold hand to my head. I was pretty sure all circulation to my extremities had ceased. Barring a miracle, I was going to bomb this spectacularly as the one person I’d do anything not to embarrass myself in front of looked on. I would be the topic of conversation around the Dupree dinner table tonight when Anna’s team lost. Scrap that. I would be the topic of conversation for every family in the room.
“What’s up?” The tall, adorable girl named Shanaya landed right in front of me, snapping me back to the task at hand. Jasmine arrived behind her with a five-subject notebook. Ming motioned for me to sit in one of the padded seats. She sat next to me and the other girls squatted in front of us.
Ming’s hands moved as she spoke. “Shay, did Whorley tell you who was starting before she quit?”
Shanaya shook her head. “Uh-uh.” Her lips pursed, and she rolled her head in a slow shake. “Gurl.You know she didn’t.”
You have got to be kidding me.I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Don’t you worry, Thornbury. We’re not going down like that,” Jasmine said, her eyes narrowed in determination.
I had to pull it together. I was the adult. And I needed to instill confidence in these girls. So their JV coach had quit. And the varsity coach was MIA. Principal Thornbury would not leave them hanging.
I clasped my hands together. “Okay. Shay.” I pointed to the JV player. “What’s your position?” I figured Ming wouldn’t have called her over if she wasn’t one of the better players. At least, that’s what I was hoping.
“Setter. But I can play middle or outside if you need.”
Ming shook her head.“ You want her as setter. She’s the best. Not a close second on the team.”
“Awww.” Shay grinned and made a heart shape with her hands.
“Okay.” I looked at Jasmine. “Put her down.”
Jasmine wrote setter and Shanaya by the number one. One down. Five to go.
“Alright, ladies.” I gave them each a moment of eye contact. “No biases. No picking friends just because you like them. We need the best players to start.”
Eleven minutes later, we had a starting lineup and Jasmine had written down when the girls on the bench should rotate in. My confidence level had come up slightly. Four minutes before the game started, I handed in the lineup and called the JV team over. Thirteen adorable jersied girls bounced, ran, and leaped, forming a half-circle in front of me. Their sparkling eyes hit me right in the chest. They’d worked hard to get here and were finally playing their first game of the season.
“Do you guys have a team chant?” I asked.
They glanced at one other, grinning.
Shay put her hand in the middle, and every girl laid theirs over someone else’s till all hands were in the pile.
Shay tipped her chin at me. “You too, Coach.”
