Why did the thought of that terrify him?
“I know you haven’t given me all the details of what’s going on with your family.” Coach’s words pulled Kieran back to the present, away from that new, terrible what if. “But I find it hard to believe they would be okay with you giving up on your dream.”
Kieran snorted. “I’m not so sure.” Coach raised a brow in question, and he looked so sincere, like he truly had meant it all the times he’d told the team that his door was always open for anyone who needed to talk.
So Kieran talked. He laid it all out, everything from the situation with the farm to the unending comments from his mother that were slowly but surely wearing him down. He felt awful for it. He was painting his parents in a most unflattering light, and he didn’t want anyone to see them that way.
But something about talking to Coach, telling someone who Kieran knew would be on the other side of the argument,someone who would root for Kieran to stay and keep playing, it was more relieving than Kieran could have imagined it to be.
“Tough position you’re in.” Coach’s words mirrored the ones Kieran had offered Sammie. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then. “I’m not going to pretend like I have any solutions for you. Sometimes things don’t have clear cut answers. Sometimes it’ll suck either way.” He paused, mulling over his thoughts. “All I know is that I’ve seen you at your happiest, and it’s when you’re out on the court with our own little family.”
Putting it that way, calling their team a family, hit Kieran like a punch to the gut. He’d been struggling to understand why the thought of letting them down, of letting themgo, felt so much harder than turning down his parents’ request.
They were his family too. Kieran had spent the summer worried about letting down one family while wanting to stay with another. Both were equally important to him. Both were equally loved by him.
“I don’t want to retire yet,” he said softly. At some point, the dripping that had held his attention had stopped. The quiet of the room had turned peaceful, no sounds other than the gentle echoes of their voices. It made Kieran feel safe. Safe enough to keep going. “I don’t want the farm. I still have good years left in me, I could play for another decade.” Barring any injuries that turned out worse than the one tonight.
“You’re young,” said Coach. “But you’re not a kid, McCullough. You’re allowed to tell your parents no, if that’s what you really want to do.”
Did he? Kieran thought that he’d known the answer to that for a long while. No, he didn’t want the farm, and nothing was going to change that.
But was he brave enough to tell them? Brave enough to see the disappointment he knew he would find in their eyes?
Coach pushed himself up from the floor, complaining about creaky hips and knees the whole way. “Come on,” he said. “My wife, Carmen, always tells me that sleep is like a reset button, and you look like you could use one.” He patted Kieran on the back. “It’ll all look better in the light of day.”
Kieran hoped he was right.
Ivy: since your brother so rudely disrupted our plans for tonight, wanna pick a different night soon? we neeeeeeeed our crash out time!
Sammie: I’m gonna tell him you’re blaming him
Sammie: He’s already getting too comfy being doted on
Sammie: It’s pretty cute actually, never seen Kai be so… sweet?
Ivy: awwww they’re so gross, i love them
Sammie: But yes, let’s reschedule
Ivy: lots going on leading up to the next game, but i’ll let you know when i’m free!
Ivy: too much time apart and i’m gonna start getting needy
Sammie: Haha
Sammie: You sound like Attie
Ivy: noooo you like me more than him :)
~
Sammie: Sorry I didn’t stick around after the game, went home with Attie and Kai
Kieran: Don’t be sorry, I was in a shit mood. Wouldn’t have been good company.
Sammie: You know it’s not your fault right? I hurt him worse by spiking a ball into his face when we were thirteen
Sammie: He’s a baby, he’ll be fine
