"I've been coaching for twenty years. Never had any complaints."
"Yeah, well, there's a first time for everything. Young girl like that, man your age…makes people wonder what else you're capable of. My older daughter is on the girls’ team. I'm wondering if I need to pull her. She's not all that much younger than your girlfriend."
"Molly Lane is not a child. And none of this is any of your business."
"When you're in charge of our kids it is."
"Twenty years, no complaints," I say again, dangerously still and calm. "Not one. Why? Because I do my job. I look out for my players. I earn their trust and the trust of their parents. And every one of them knows I wouldneverbetray that." I bore holes in him with my gaze, using my size to back it up. "If youhave any issues, you can take them to the administration. This conversation is over."
My fists are clenched so hard, they're shaking as I turn around and walk away.
"We're all watching," he says to my back.
Don't I fucking know it.
Vibrating with rage, I get in my truck, slamming the door and starting the engine, desperate to get out of this parking lot.
Fuck these people. Why can't they just leave us alone?
I wanted to tell him to fuck off. I want to scream and fight and roar. But I have to keep it together.
So I think about Molly. About her warm little house and her soft bed. It'll smell like dinner when I get there. I just have to get there. Everything will be better when I'm with her.
Eleven days. Eleven whole days starts now.
My phone buzzes when I'm stopped at the light out of the high school parking lot.
Grab some garlic bread on the way home? Making pasta! *Pasta emoji, heart emoji*
Simple. Sweet. Normal. She has no idea what just happened, and she doesn't need to.
This. This is what matters. Her.
Sure thing, peaches. Be home soon.
The second I hit send, my heart jerks in my chest.
Home.
I don't know when I started thinking about her place as home.
Maybe I didn't.
Maybe she's home.
I swallow hard, put my phone in the cupholder. Look up to find the light turning yellow and swear, gunning it so I don't have to wait through another light.
Home. Home. Home.
Almost there. Perpetually.
I hurry to the grocery store, feeling my luck change when I find a spot close to the front. Just run in. Grab the bread. Get out. Don't make eye contact. Don't engage.
I beeline for the frozen foods, finding the garlic knots she likes, grabbing two boxes because she always eats more than she thinks she will. Head to the check out.
The woman in front of me turns, recognizes me. Her eyes widen before snapping away.
I ignore her, staring at the conveyor belt until it's my turn.
