He whistles. “And now he’s being weird?”
“He’s beingprofessional.”
Max hums. “And you hate that.”
I glare at the floor. “He benched me like I’m some fragile little twink.”
“Did you just call yourself a fragile little twink?”
“Shut up.”
Max snorts and starts rolling tape back into place. “You’re cleared. Go tell your overprotective coach you passed with flying colors. Maybe he’ll let you back on the field. Or maybe he’s spiraling and doesn’t know what the hell to do with you.”
I stand. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Don’t thank me. Just try not to blow your kneeoryour dignity trying to prove something.”
I flip him off as I leave. He waves like he’s unbothered. And I head out, still fuming—because he’s probably right.
And I still don’t know why that pisses me off more than anything.
I don’t even knock when I reach the coach’s office.
The locker room’s mostly cleared, just the echo of the last guys heading out, cleats scuffing tile and laughter bouncing off the walls. But the coach’s office door is cracked, and I can see him in there—alone. Sitting behind the desk like he’s king of the fucking universe.
I push it open harder than I need to.
Silas looks up. Calm. Blank-faced. As though he’s been waiting for me.
“Max cleared me.”
His expression doesn’t change. “Good.”
“Which means I was fine the whole time.”
“You weren’t evaluated when it happened,” he says evenly, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t let players risk injury under my watch.”
“I wasn’t injured.”
“We didn’t know that.”
I step farther into the office, fists clenching at my sides. “I’m not fragile.”
His jaw ticks—just a twitch, but I catch it.
“I didn’t say you were.”
“Didn’t have to,” I bite out. “You sidelined me like I couldn’t handle a little stumble.”
“I benched you because it’s summer camp, not the fucking playoffs,” he says, voice sharpening now. “You tweaked your knee ,and I made a judgment call. That’s my job.”
“No, your job is to coach me. Not coddle me.”
His eyes narrow. “You think this was personal?”
“You tell me.”
He stands then, slow, deliberate. The chair creaks behind him, and for a second, it’s just the sound of my heartbeat and the hum of the overhead light buzzing between us.
