Page 88 of Not On Your Life

“Um, actually I have.” I’ve had a lot of free time as of late to think. About this job, about Connor.

“And? Do we get to keep you?”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Don’t I have to be a teacher or something to coach?”

“Not at all.” He says. “But if you want to teach, there’s a history class with your name on it.”

I laugh awkwardly. Knowing him, he might sign me up no matter what I say. “History isn’t really my thing.”

“But I hear law is, right?”

I freeze. “Um, yeah, I went to law school.”

“So if a government or debate class opened up, you’d like to be considered?”

“I didn’t say that.” I’ve only considered it because I love these girls and have grown comfortable with them. I might not like any other teenagers in the world besides them.

“Once you discover the magic of working with kids, it’s hard to leave. They suck you in. But I promise there’s nothing more fulfilling.” He watches the girls, and I catch a hint of pride in his eyes.

I agree. Which is why I want the coaching job. Volleyball was one of my outlets growing up. On the court I didn’t feel like a failure. I didn’t focus on what I couldn’t control; I just played the game. It’s time to get that freedom back.

I straighten my shoulders and fix my attention on him, confident with my decision. “I’d like to take the coaching job if the position is still available.”

“It’s yours.” He turns to the girls and cups his hands around his mouth. “Ladies, meet your new coach!”

I’m not expecting applause. I’m not expecting anything. But when they run forward and wrap me in the middle of a group hug, I realize that was all I wanted.

These girls might need me, but I need them more.

I notice Diedre hanging back, and I raise my brows at her. I don’t need her approval to be her coach. But it sure wouldn’t hurt.

She purses her lips. “You still have to play me for it.”

Adrenaline courses through my veins. “Bring it on.”

This time I play to prove myself to these girls, that I’ll stick around for them, that I’ll fight for them. And only when I’ve beaten Diedre by twelve points do I realize I probably could have dialed it back a bit.

I walk to her side. “Good game.”

She shrugs and tosses me the ball. “I let you win.”

Oh, I won alright. “Of course you did.”

***

“You look incredible,” Lyndi says as I walk out of her master bathroom in the satin red dress. She insisted I get ready at her house so she could check the dress one last time for the hole, which we’ve now determined doesn’t exist. Thank goodness.

Once upon a time, I helped her get ready for a fancy event, and now it’s her turn to dote over me. Funny how we’ve come full circle.

I run my hands over the bodice of the dress. “I can’t believe I’m going to prom.”

“I can’t believe you’re going solo.” She raises a brow that really says ”when are you going to talk to Connor again?” I can hear it from here. Or is it the voice in my head? It’s getting really hard to tell.

It’s been eight days, and I haven’t stopped thinking about him once. I’m used to thinking about ways to kill him, but those haven’t been the thoughts going through my head lately.

“A confident woman doesn’t need a date,” I say, smoothing out the silky material at my waist.

A woman who is only pretending to be confident, though, would like one. I should have asked Connor. I thought I couldn’t trust him, that he’d let me down or hurt me again, but that’s a load of crap. I can always trust he’ll tease me, and I’ll tease him back. I can count on him to push me and encourage me. It's me who I can't trust. What if I change my mind? I fear I'm only going to let him down.