Page 38 of How To Tackle A Crush

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There’s a knock.

“Come in,” I say just as my stomach does a stupid little flip.

Chapter 8

Ava

Jack’s office looks exactlylike you would expect from a man who seems incapable of chaos. Desk clear except for a laptop, a neat stack of training reports, and a mug that has clearly witnessed several win-or-lose debates. No framed glory shots. No trophies. No ego on display. Just work.

Which somehow makes me more nervous.

He looks up when I come in, smiles like I am a normal appointment on a normal day, and gestures to the chair opposite.

“Ava. Welcome. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” I say, which suggests competence I do not possess.

I open my notebook. My carefully prepared questions stare back at me. Ben and AJ helped with some. Google helped with most. I still have a strong suspicion I am about to embarrass myself.

“So,” I begin, aiming for confident and landing somewhere around polite panic, “let’s start with formations.”

“Alright.”

“How do you decide which one to use?”

“Depends on the players, who we’re playing, what we think the game will need.”

I nod as if I follow completely.

“And how do you… see that?”

“See what?”

“That it’s working.”

“Movement. Spacing. Passing options.”

I hesitate.

“…the triangles?”

His mouth twitches.

“Yes. The triangles.”

I feel absurdly validated.

“I knew it.”

“Did someone brief you?”

“I overheard AJ explaining them to someone and wrote it down like it was a state secret.”

“That sounds about right.”

I make a note, mostly so I have something to do with my hands. I am aware he is watching me with quiet amusement rather than judgement, which helps more than it should.

“You don’t watch much football, do you?” he says.

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