Page 22
CHAPTER 21
KIND AND GOOD
SAGE
Sage settled into her seat on the plane. She’d kept her headphones in on their walk through the airport, sending the silent signal that she wanted to be left alone. She’d grabbed a seat between two strangers, sacrificing the loss of personal space for what was hopefully going to be a blissfully quiet trip home.
She needed a fucking break.
Ideally, she needed at least twenty-four hours alone. She couldn’t even begin to sift through the events of the previous night, not until she had the time and space to fully process and parse through it all.
She’d barely woken up when David’s alarm had gone off. She’d felt him carefully disentangle her hands, which had clung to his t-shirt like she was afraid he was going to leave her. She’d ignored the numerous texts from him throughout the morning, needing to put herself back together before she could return to the comfortable friendship that had existed between them.
Embarrassment heated her skin. She’d shown him too much. It was a moment of excruciating weakness that had brought her to text him, but in that moment she’d needed… Well, she’d needed him , and she knew that he’d show up at her door. She never planned to tell him everything. But it had been so nice, even for just a little bit, to settle against his warm, strong body. To pretend like his comfort was hers to take.
The flight passed quickly, her audiobook of one of her favorite Westerns serving to block out the rest of the world.
Once they got back to the Humphrey Center, she had a bit of work to do to make sure that all of the equipment was put away. She could feel David watching her as she went through the familiar motions, but avoided eye contact by keeping busy.
As she drove home, her phone rang. She glanced at her screen, sighing. She debated ignoring the call, but decided at the last minute to answer.
“Hi Mom.”
“Sagey!” Her mom’s voice filled the car, and for a second her eyes burned with emotion at the familiar warmth that only her mom could summon.
“What are you up to?”
“Oh, I just finished changing the chickens’ bedding. School starts back up tomorrow, so I’m trying to finish up all of my chores before going back to work.”
“Nice.” Sage could picture the robin’s egg blue painted chicken coop nestled in the top corner of their sloped backyard.
“How are you doing?”
“Fine,” Sage answered as she rolled down her window to enter the gate code for the apartment complex. “Staying busy with the team and classes.”
“Any news on the job hunt?”
Sage grimaced. She knew that it was irrational; her mom’s questions about her post-graduation plans were completely reasonable. It was totally warranted for her to be curious and concerned about her kid having a concrete plan. But Sage couldn’t help the way her skin crawled when her mom brought up the topic.
“Nothing yet,” Sage admitted reluctantly. “I honestly haven’t had time. We’ve been traveling almost every week. My advisor has some ideas, so my plan is to hit the ground running when the season wraps up.”
“Hm.” Sage could perfectly imagine the pursed-lip expression that probably pinched her mother’s laugh-lined face.
“What, Mom,” she asked, rather than waiting for the lecture that was inevitably coming.
“I just want you to make sure you don’t miss out on a perfect opportunity because you’re waiting,” she said. “Did you get a chance to look at the postings I sent you? The one with the baseball team looked really good. Starting at sixty-thousand, Sage. Can you imagine?”
Sage sat in her parked car, her head tilted back against the headrest. “Yeah, Mom. I’ll give them another look though.”
“Good.” In the background, she heard the click of the back door opening. “You know I love you, right?”
Sage closed her eyes. “I know. Love you too. And I’ve got to go.”
“Okay, well call me when you have more time to catch up.”
“Sure, Mom.”
“Bye, Sagey.”
“Bye.”
Sage hung up the phone, exhaustion making her whole body feel impossibly heavy. She dragged herself and her luggage out of her car and up the stairs to her apartment, barely making it to her bed before she collapsed into a heap, powered off her phone, and fell asleep.
* * *
After an indulgent three hour nap, Sage dragged herself to the couch and grabbed her laptop.
Her stats from last night’s game were absolute garbage, so she logged onto the team drive and queued up the tape that they’d already uploaded.
The idea that she hadn’t done her job well because of something as trivial as being faced by someone from her past grated on her, and she was determined to redo the stat sheet before practice the next morning.
With a cup of tea in one hand, she focused on the game playing on her laptop in front of her.
The team looked good. Really fucking good.
She tapped out the stats on the tablet, tracking the plays with the attention she’d been missing the night before. A few times she paused to watch a play again, not because she’d missed something, but because an idea or an adjustment crossed her mind.
Finally, she paused the tape and ran into her bedroom, tracking down a barely-filled notebook on the bookshelf where she kept her school books and textbooks. Grabbing a pencil from her bag, she went back to the couch and flipped to a blank page.
Before she could second guess herself, she started writing. Sketches of plays surrounded by words as she tapped into a well of thoughts and ideas she hadn’t even realized were there.
She knew basketball. She’d lived and breathed basketball. She shouldn’t be surprised that she had a lot to say on the subject, but still, when she flipped the third page and hadn’t yet reached a stopping point, she couldn’t quite believe it.
An hour later she’d finished correcting the game stats and had somehow filled ten pages with various notes and ideas.
It was getting dark, so she packed up her stuff and changed to go shoot on campus, needing to expend some of the nervous energy that filled her body.
Twenty minutes later she was alone under the buzzing lights, her muscles warming up as she moved around the basket. She felt the beginning of sweat on her forehead, and lifted the hem of the old t-shirt with cut off sleeves that she’d thrown on to wipe it away.
Already, she was coming back together.
But even though she felt the pieces of herself returning to their previous equilibrium, there was something different. Seeing Evan had opened up something that she’d previously ignored, something that she’d had to walk away from in order to survive.
That final year of basketball — her senior year — was supposed to be the culmination of something. It was supposed to be the crowning achievement of a career that had started when she was just seven years old, as well as what opened the door to playing at the next level — playing in college.
Evan had been her coach for four years at that point. He’d been young, charismatic, and passionate, and had her entire team hanging on to every word he said.
Sage had set herself apart with her skill and her work ethic, willingly devoting all of herself to basketball, spending every minute of her spare time at the gym. It helped that she’d been tall from a young age — hitting her full height in eighth grade.
Of course she’d developed a crush on Evan. All of them had. The boys around them had acne and hadn’t hit their growth spurts yet. Evan was tall and handsome and drove a new car. What she hadn’t expected was for him to take an interest in her. And when he had, it was a teenage fantasy come to life.
She’d been a sophomore in high school when he first started asking her to stay after practice. Extra drills turned into long, heart-felt conversations and offers of a ride home. He complimented her, while still challenging her to get better. He continuously raised the bar, and Sage chased his praise with a rabid need to earn his approval.
She would have done anything he asked.
The first time he leaned over the center console and kissed her in the darkness, she thought she’d died and gone to heaven. This man wanted her . He was choosing her.
It escalated from there. She bailed on friends and teammates to meet him in his car. Sometimes he’d take them to a motel, and on those nights she felt even more special. She kept playing, getting better and better. Coming out of her sophomore year, the dream of a college scholarship didn’t seem like too far of a reach. Her high school coach, who she’d always respected, encouraged her to keep working and focus on staying healthy.
And then that summer, the diet had started. Evan convinced her that it would give her an edge over the other girls her age. That was combined with cardio workouts on the track, running and running until she had to limp back to her car, weak with exhaustion.
She lost weight. Years of hard-earned muscle practically melted away. All the while, Evan reassured her: You’re getting faster. You’ll be able to be more dynamic. You can become a guard and you can score more.
Sage never thought to doubt him. Why would she? He’d chosen her, and had believed in her from the beginning.
And then they’d gone to tournaments in the summer, and everyone expected college coaches to come watch her. She’d tried to be humble about it, but she’d expected it too.
But they didn’t come.
She worked harder, pushed herself beyond what was healthy, because that had to be the reason. She must not have been good enough.
The pattern carried on. The summer season passed, and she’d played well enough, but not nearly as well as had been expected. Her high school coach began to express concern about her weight loss, and when Sage reported that to Evan, he’d brushed off the comments as a lack of understanding. He was training her to be an elite athlete, something her other coach could never understand.
Fast forward to her senior season. No college coaches had called. Her relationship with her high school coach had fractured, driven by distrust and Sage’s disregard for her input. Basketball, which for years had been the greatest love of her life, had become something she dreaded.
Her eighteenth birthday was at the end of January. Evan had told her repeatedly that as soon as she turned eighteen, they’d be together. They’d stop hiding away in his car and sneaking into motel rooms. He’d told her that the girlfriend who he lived with was just a placeholder while he waited for her.
Fuck, she’d been naive. Her birthday had come and gone, and nothing changed. Evan withdrew, claiming to be busy or otherwise occupied, and Sage was left with the ruins of a final basketball season, playing a sport she hated, surrounded by teammates she’d alienated years ago, faced with an empty future.
Choosing Southeastern had been a welcome relief. She couldn’t stand to stay in Santa Barbara, where her failures haunted her wherever she went.
She missed her tenth shot in a row.
Letting out a sharp, frustrated exhale, Sage chased after the ball and then paused, looking up at the basket. She stared at the vivid orange rim until the image began to blur.
She inhaled. Held it in until the pressure in her lungs ached. Exhaled.
The next shot went in. She chased down the ball, dribbling out to the wing before setting up again, her palms sliding easily over the leather before her finger found one of the seams.
That shot went in, and then the next. All of her focus was on the net in front of her, her body reacting to the exact bounce and roll of the ball each time it dropped through the net. She settled into an almost meditative state, quiet except for the squeak of her shoes on the hardwood and her heavy breathing as she moved around the court.
The gym around her was silent, and her mind quieted.
Sage had no idea how much time had passed before she brought the endless cycle of shoot, dribble out, shoot, dribble out, to a stop. She had to catch her breath; her shirt was wet with sweat and her face was hot, flushed from exertion.
There was a distinct calm that always settled over her when she walked away from the court, unlacing her shoes and peeling off her sweaty socks. And today, with that calm came the feeling that she’d picked up the broken pieces and put herself back together. Maybe, she was whole again.
* * *
“Sage!”
She jumped up from where she was slumped over the front of her shopping cart in front of the tortilla chips.
David Hughes, looking like a bear emerging from hibernation with his unkempt hair and deep purple circles under his heavy-lidded eyes, pushed his cart toward her.
“Hi,” she said, offering him a hesitant smile.
“You didn’t respond to my texts,” he said, his voice grating from his chest like rusted metal dragged across gravel.
Sage winced. “Sorry, I just needed to regroup after…” She trailed off, unable to put words to the colossal shit show that had been her run in with Evan. It was even harder to explain what had happened after.
Sage wasn’t a big sharer. Never had been outside of her relationship with her sister. But she’d sat there wrapped up like a koala bear in David’s strong arms and spilled out all of the things she’d kept hidden.
His eyes searched hers. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Better now.”
David mirrored her nod, and she glanced down to see his hands gripping the handle of the shopping cart. He cleared his throat. “I wish you’d called,” he said, his voice quiet. “I wish you’d asked me for help.”
If it had been anyone else, Sage would have brushed them off. But this wasn’t just anyone. This was David, who was kind and good, who kept showing up selflessly. Who she was going to try to do something new and terrifying with after the season.
“I don’t talk about Evan,” she admitted, forcing herself to maintain eye contact, to look directly into his deep brown eyes. She could try to give him a little bit more of herself. “My sister’s the only one who knows what actually happened between us. Seeing him again,” she swallowed against the emotion that burned her throat. “I never thought I’d see him again. And like I said, it was like suddenly I was the same kid who idolized him all over again, even though I know I’m not that girl anymore. I’ve worked really fucking hard to outgrow that experience, David. I don’t just let people into my life or let them tell me what to do. So to have you see me like that…it was humiliating.” Her voice had quieted to a whisper. “I never wanted you to see that part of me.”
David watched her for a moment with an anguished expression on his face. Then he slowly pushed his cart forward, coming up beside her.
“And David?”
“Hm?”
She steeled herself with a breath. “You should know that Evan kissed me. When we were in the car.”
David’s expression was carefully blank. She watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed. “How did you feel about him kissing you?”
“I hated it,” she said, the truth of her words hitting her like a blow to the chest. “I fucking hated it, but I didn’t stop right away, and I don’t want you to think —”
David stepped up to her, one of his big hands coming up to cradle her jaw. “Hey,” he said, his voice a whisper. “I believe you, Lefty. And in case you need the reminder, no one should ever do that without your permission. No one.”
She nodded, unable to find the words.
David’s thumb swept across her cheek before he released his hold on her. “Can I shop with you?”
She stared at him for a full breath before finding her voice. “Sure,” she replied.
David smiled at her. “Right then,” he said, looking over into her basket. “What else do you need?”
Sage looked between him and her cart. “Eggs?”
“Come on. Let’s go get you some eggs.”
For a moment neither of them spoke, the only sound between them the whine and click of the carts as they reached the end of the aisle.
“You know you don’t have to have it all together with me, right?”
Sage stopped. She looked at him, really looked at him, and saw nothing there but trust and care and all of the things she’d never let herself need from another person.
This man had held her through the most painful moment in her recent life, a moment when her past had dropped suddenly into the middle of her world without warning. He’d held her and offered nothing but compassion. Not only that, but he still looked at her like she was someone worthy of knowing. Even after seeing her broken, he looked at her like she was whole.
She still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d come to have David Hughes in her life, but found that it was suddenly hard to imagine day to day life without him.
There was the kissing, sure. She’d spent too many nights in bed thinking about the kissing that was waiting for her at the end of the season. But what about this? About the friendship he gave her so easily and the moments when he seemed to know just what she needed?
At some point those things had started to matter just as much. Maybe even more.
* * *
The next morning, Sage showed up at David’s apartment after her workout armed with coffee and a blueberry muffin. She knew that he had a weakness for the streusel topping.
The gesture was enough to bring them right back into their pattern of companionship — spending time together in the evenings after practice, sharing meals, and, occasionally, taking Daisy for walks through their neighborhood.
And the team kept winning. They’d more than earned their spot in the conference tournament at that point, and Sage worked with the athletic office to book flights and hotel rooms for the team to go to Tampa, where the tournament would take place.
When she’d texted Brinley the news that they’d advanced, her sister had replied with an email confirmation for two plane tickets to Tampa for her and their mom. Sage couldn’t tell if she was more excited or nervous that they were coming. She wasn’t even playing, but it still felt like she was right there with the team as they approached the end of the season.
The notebook she’d started scribbling in was now almost completely full, and she kept it on hand in her bag in case ideas struck. She’d started categorizing her notes to include player development for each of the guys on the team and drill recommendations based on position.
They closed out the regular season with a record of 15-12. In their conference, they were 13-3, a record that no one had expected. They were the dark horse going into the tournament, and while Sage knew that they were lucky to be there at all, there was still that tiny glimmer of hope that, maybe, they could pull off a few miraculous wins and go to nationals.
The night before flying out for the conference tournament, David was over at her apartment. He sat on one end of her couch, long legs stretched out in front of him. Daisy was curled up between his thighs, watching Sage where she lay sprawled out on the carpet, double checking the travel itinerary for the next day.
“Sage.”
“Hm?” She scrolled down her screen, triple checking they’d gotten all of the player names spelled correctly on their tickets.
“This is incredible.”
She glanced up to find David thumbing through the pages of her notebook. She’d forgotten that she’d left it open on her couch.
David’s eyes stayed focused on the paper in front of him as a slow smile spread on his face.
It really was a fucking lovely smile.
“What you’ve done here,” David said, finally looking up at her. “It’s incredible, Sage.”
She felt her cheeks warm. “You already said that,” she said, unsure of how to respond.
“So I take it that you’re thinking about coaching?”
“I,” she began, but trailed off as she looked over at the pages and pages of notes that David held in his hands. She thought about how, in the past few months, she’d started to see the game from the outside looking in. She’d started to see it like a coach.
“David,” she said, looking wide-eyed up at him. “Coaching is a job.”
David laughed, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, one of us in this room is actually employed as a coach.”
Sage rolled her eyes, but then flopped onto her back, staring up at the stark white of the ceiling as all of her thoughts of what came next shifted, clicking into place in a new pattern that she hadn’t fully considered was a possibility.
She could be a coach.
She could coach basketball .