and the fire in him?—
This is only the beginning.
Royal Oaks is buzzing about basketball like nothing else in the world matters.
Whispers about tryouts.
Predictions about state championships.
Girls giggling about how Tristan, Xavier, and Leo are “so obviously” going to carry the team this year.
I want to scream.
I’m barely keeping myself together and the school feels like it’s running on delusion and pep rallies.
I duck into the locker hallway, hoping to slip out before the noise swallows me, when Coach Roman’s voice slices through the crowd.
“Jade. Office. Now.”
Oh great.
She shuts the door behind us and leans back against her desk, arms crossed, looking like she’s held together by caffeine and stress.
“I’m putting out fires all over this damn school,” she says. “Talk to me, kid. What’s going on?”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“Well,” I say, “since the season ended, I haven’t really been keeping up with anything. Not speed training. Not conditioning. Honestly, Coach… I’m just trying to get up every morning and find the will to get out of bed and breathe.”
Her expression softens instantly, and that almost undoes me.
“I can’t even imagine,” she murmurs. “I’ve coached for thirty years. Kids have always been mean, but this?” She gestures vaguely, like the whole mess is too big to name. “This era of phones and apps and fifteen-second cruelty? It’s different.”
I sit on the edge of the chair, elbows on my knees.
“Coach,” I say quietly, “why do you even put up with it here? You could teach anywhere. Public school. A city program. Make a real difference.”
She lets out a humorless laugh.
“So you think I’m a sellout?”
I shake my head. “No. I just… don’t understand why you stay.”
“Truthfully?” she asks, rubbing her forehead. “It was my idea to pull in more scholarship kids. To shake up the culture here. And when I saw your reels from Ohio? I knew I had to have you. You were raw talent. Heart. Hunger. You had everything they didn’t.”
She sighs hard.
“Part of me feels responsible. Like this whole thing might be my fault.”
“It’s not,” I say immediately. “It’s just… something I have to go through, I guess. I’m not sure why. Maybe one day I’ll look back and understand, but?—”
I shrug. “Thank you. For the opportunity. For believing in me.”
She studies me, eyes tired but warm.
“So you’re not thinking about going back to Ohio?”
I snort. “No. I’ve seen too much now. The good, the bad, the ugly. Hard to go back to small-town life after that.”
