“Me? Nervous?”
“Yes, you. Are you worried about the tournament?”
“Oh, come on.”
Of course I’m worried. This is the last training session we have before the first match, and everyone seems to have decided to come along, just to put me under even more pressure. There’s my daughter, Tyler, my favourite headmistress, and a few of the kids’ parents, too.
“There’s a lot to play for,” Tyler reminds me.
As if I didn’t know that already.
“And after the first two matches they start eliminating teams.”
I scoff, irritated. I’m starting to remember exactly why we weren’t such good friends as kids.
“And if you lose—”
“Are you done?”
Tyler laughs, my daughter joining him.
Since when have they been so close?
Jordan walks back over to us after yelling at the team. I should really have been the one to do it, but I couldn’t help it; she’s so sexy when she puts people in their place. And I’m trying really hard not to think about that ponytail: I want to grab it, and…
“What are you looking at?” Her voice shakes me from my daydream and back into a dull reality.
“I can’t tell you that. We’re not alone, and we’re on school grounds.”
She narrows her eyes, and I laugh.
“Why don’t you try keeping your eyes on your team, instead?” she snaps. “If you ask me, they’re not exactly well-prepared for the match on Saturday.”
“Are you kidding? They werebornready.”
“They’re distracted, and they’re being flaky. Just like their coach.”
“Ouch,” Tyler comments.
“What are you trying to say?”
“That you need to be a good example to them, Kerry.”
“Are you saying I’m not doing a good job?”
“They don’t take you seriously enough.”
“That’s true,” Tyler adds, helpfully.
“If you want to win this tournament, then go over to your team and show them who’s in charge.”
Her little speech has an unexpected effect on me. But not on my mind: on something I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about right now.
I get to my feet and walk down the few steps which separate the two of us.
“Can I showyouwho’s in charge, too?” I whisper into her ear.
“Kerry…” she says, scolding.
