Page 42 of Full Court Love

The ending is all too familiar.

I sat in his office, rubbing my hands up and down my legs in an attempt to keep them dry. It didn’t work. He sat down in the seat behind the desk, took one look at me, and shook his head.

“Mitchell, you aren’t in trouble.”

The pit in my stomach shrank ever so slightly with that reassurance.

“No, nothing like that. You’ve been such a positive addition to this team, it’s hard to believe we were able to land you. The season we’re putting together is surpassing everyone’s projections. We owe a lot of it to you.”

I had to fight the urge to smile. Men take sports seriously, so oftentimes there’s not a lot of room for that kind of compliment.But his words mean more to me than just on-court praise. He’s helping me reframe how I fit into a team.

The labels I’ve received all my life have been overtly negative–toxic, team cancer, selfish. And even though I know that reputation was almost exclusively caused by the actions of my dad, it became hard not to internalize it.

Coach Daniels cracked a little smile as he watched me process his compliment. I coughed out a reply.

“Umm, thank you, sir. That really means a lot to me. More than you even know.”

He nodded solemnly. “I might have a little idea. I know your background, and I have some experience with what you’ve dealt with.”

I wasn’t entirely sure what he was referring to. Then he laid it all out for me.

“I’m fully aware that you’ve turned away some lucrative sponsorship deals since you’ve arrived in Maverick City. I’m also pretty sure I can guess why. You’re protecting yourself and you’re protecting your team. I commend you for that sacrifice.”

At this point, he leaned back and removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Mitchell, my father was a bully. I don’t need to get into the specifics, but once I turned eighteen, I was out of there. I met my beautiful wife and made my way in the world, vowing to be nothing like him. I want that for you. There’s greatness in you, but I see the strings holding you back.”

I just stared at him. I never knew much about my coach’s background–we’ve only known each other for a few months, after all. But now I recognize where his toughness and resilience come from.

He’s been battle tested.

Just like me.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the massive wooden desk.

“So, here’s the deal. Pierson Automotive reached out. They want to give you a lease on a new car. You and Lucy Townes.” There’s a twinkle in his eye. “I think you might know each other.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “Yes, sir, we do.”

“They want to do some promos with you, but I gave them a caveat: it all has to be for local news. No social media. I figured that would be the best way to keep it relatively under the radar.”

I clenched my jaw. The second my dad catches wind of this, he will be on me to use my leverage to get him a new car. Or give him mine. Or start canvassing local businesses asking to do more promotions for way too much money.

Coach Daniels read my mind. “I don’t have to tell you how big the Pierson family is at this university. Keeping them happy is a top priority for administration. They asked for you and Lucy specifically. You can think about it, but it’s pretty much a done deal already. See you on the bus.”

I nodded and then headed for the door. He left me with one final tip.

“Hey, Mitchell. Townes is a good one. Reminds me of my spitfire of a wife. Don’t take a girl like that for granted.”

As embarrassing as it was to have my coach commenting on my love life, his words are pinging around in my head as the bus revs up and slowly pulls out of the arena parking lot. Lucy basically made him into a prophet with a 100% hit rate when I left his office and immediately found her present in my locker.

I’m anxious about her association with me, though. I don’t know what my dad will do if and when he finds out. I haven’t talked to him in so long, I don’t know how much he’s been drinking. He becomes bearable and even fun when it’s under control–even if he’s still constantly grubbing for money.

But when the drinking rears its ugly head, he’s relentlesslycruel and selfish. Memories flood back in of his various drunken tirades. The time he berated me after a seventh-grade basketball game because I missed a game-winning shot. Every game he got thrown out of–which was almost half of them.

This whole thought train is making me feel nauseated. I gaze out the window into the vast Nebraska cornfields. Deep breaths in and out. I love this place. Most people from back home couldn’t believe this is where I decided to come. Aside from the fact that it was one of the only schools that would even take me, I wanted a place that didn’t feel suffocating.

I can breathe here.

I can think.