I race after Coach. “Coach Goodwin,” I call out again. This time he stops and turns to face me, irritation all over his face. I’ve seen him in action over the years, and he is not a guy you want to get on the wrong side of. But I remind myself this isn’t about me; it’s about Slater. I force myself to keep walking forward, even though my brain is screaming at me to turn around. One of the assistant coaches puts a hand up, stopping me.
“No students are allowed on the field.”
“I know. I just need to talk to—”
“Whatever you need, you’ll have to set up an appointment, just like everybody else.”
I watch in frustration as Coach Goodwin walks further away. “It’s about Slater Thorne!” I call out, desperation filling me.Thatmakes him stop. Coach turns around and motions me forward. Relief and terror both flood through me, and I force my wooden legs to walk over to him.
“This had better be important for me to delay practice,” he says before I even get close.
“Having your best player play for you in the playoffs is,” I return, still walking towards him.
He doesn’t even wait for me to get to him. “What?”
The words I’d been rehearsing on my way over suddenly flee; my mind goes completely empty. I finally reach him and try to find words...any words. Coach’s frown deepens. “What happened to your face?”
I suck in a breath. “That’s what I’m here to talk to you about.”
“Slate do that to you?”
I suck in a breath and promptly choke on it. “Slater? No! Slater would never hurt me or anybody for that matter. That’s what I came to—”
“Is that what the fight was about?”
“Well, yes. He—”
“The boy Slate had against the wall. He hurt you?”
“Yes. I mean he didn’t mean to, but—”
“You Slate’s girl?”
I struggle to keep up with his onslaught of questions. I don’t know how to answer that one. “Yes,” a new voice says, joining us. Ben, Slater’s teammate and the team goalie, joins us. “She’s Slate’s girl.” I don’t get a chance to deny his words.
Coach turns to one of his assistant coaches. “Call him. Tell him to be on the field in ten minutes or there won’t be a spot for him.” Relief flows through me so fast, I can hardly breathe. Right after that, though, comes the panic because what if he can’t get here that fast. I turn to Ben, panic in my eyes.
“It’s fine,” he says quietly. “He’s in the weight room; he’ll make it.” He looks over my shoulder. “There he is.” Then he looks down at me again. “Thank you.”
His words barely register, and I turn around. Sure enough, Slater jogs towards us, coming from the main building. His eyes are fixed on me, and nerves flood my system.Will he be mad at me for interfering?I figure now is a good time to make my escape,beforehe gets here. I take a few steps that way, but Ben figures out I’m trying to escape and stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “You trying to run now? You already did the hard part.”
“Is there a reason you’re touching her?”
Slater’s voice reaches my ears, and I feel my already taut nerves tighten more. “Just keeping her here for you, Man.” Ben says, lifting his hands away. “She was trying to run.”
Slater eyes me, and I can see the questions in his eyes. I glance at his coach, wondering if I’m going to have to explain everything, or if he will. “You have your girl to thank for getting your position back,” Coach Goodwin says.
“I’m not—” I start.
“You are,” both Slater and Ben say at the same time, silencing me.
“Now, get on the field, both of you.”
Slater turns those dark eyes on me. “Thank you,” he breathes and then shocks me by leaning forward and placing his lips on my forehead.
“Slate, let’s go!” Coach calls out.
Slater doesn’t move. “You good to get back?”
