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“I think so,” I said.

He rolled his entire head. “Finley. You know this. You have to get pumped up. Get some blood flowing through your veins. Are you ready?”

“Yes…”

“Scream it!”

I laughed and looked around; the field was empty, and the stadium seats were mostly empty. A few people ran the steps, exercising. It was a Sunday, so the campus had been pretty quiet on our walk.

He moved so he was standing in front of me and jumped a few times, then indicated he wanted me to do the same.

I jumped.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes!” I felt like I was on the soccer field again about to start playing. In soccer we’d all huddle together and yell out positive affirmations. Things likeWe’re the best, We can run forever, Kicking balls is fun, Bury the enemy.That last one wasn’t so positive, but it always made Deja laugh. She was the most supportive teammate ever when working for the same goal. And when we weren’t on the same page, like now, in my relationship with Theo, the lack of support was glaring.

“Again!” Theo shouted.

“I’m ready!”

“Good! Then let’s go!” He ran to the twenty-yard line, and I followed. There, he took off his backpack and retrieved a football, then squatted down and held it in place. We’d practiced this last time after flag football. Him holding the ball instead of placing it on the plastic ring. It took a while to get used to. I kept thinking I was going to kick his hand. But he moved it out of the way fast enough every time. Right now, he looked at me with a sweet smile. “It’s all about muscle memory. Just do what you’ve been doing. Don’t even think about it.”

I shook out my hands.Don’t even think about it. Don’t even think about it.I drove forward and connected with the ball. It flew through the air and straight down the center.

Theo’s hands shot in the air like I’d just scored the winning points in the Super Bowl. “That was amazing. And it went far! Really far. We can back up ten yards.”

Theo grabbed another ball and was already running back to the thirty.

“And did I tell you!” he yelled over his shoulder. “The goal posts are narrower in college. So it will be even easier on our field.”

I followed after him, walking, not running like he was. “They’re narrower here?”

“Yes!” he said when I reached him. “You are brilliant!”

The wind picked up, whipping through my hair and twisting it around in front of my head. He pushed it out of my face and placed his palms on my cheeks, staring into my eyes in boyish excitement. “There’s wind!”

Coach Theo, who had turned to Kissing Coach Theo, was adorable.

With his hands still on my cheeks, I pushed forward and kissed him. “Does that mean I am done for the day? We can make outnow?”

He wrapped an arm around my waist and spun me in a circle. “No! It means we get to practice in the wind! You get to learn how to adjust your kick.”

I laughed and held a fake microphone up to my mouth. “Coach Theo, how are you feeling after your hard work helped an ex–soccer player make a field goal?”

He brought my hand to his mouth. “I’m feeling like she needs to kick about a hundred more today.”

“She thinks fifty sounds more doable.”

He laughed. “I’m seriously super impressed. We probably should’ve come here earlier.”

“And does watching her success make you want to kick a ball today?” I asked, fake microphone still in hand.

The giddy excitement that had been on his face melted rightoff.

I lowered my hand, dropping the reporter act. “Will you?” I asked softly. I’d watched him do so many physical things now, and aside from the occasional wince, and the slight favor he showed his left knee, I sensed what was stopping him was more mental than anything.

“We’re working on your kick. In the wind,” he said, squatting down to hold the ball in place. “I don’t…If I…Just pay attention to how the wind is blowing and adjust your swing in the opposite direction. It might take a couple attempts to get the hang of it.”