Page 96 of Taking Sides

“I don’t know. ‘Congratulations, Coach Carson, and good luck in retirement,’” I say as I also tap the words into the blank note.

“And fuck all the rest of you.” D-Low sits back, leaning against the couch cushion. “Done. Want to watch a movie?”

“Yeah. Might as well.” I toss my phone to the side.

“You’ll figure out what to say,” he says more seriously. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Nah. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? It’s been a while since I’ve hung out with your parents. I bet they miss me.”

“I’m sure they do, but it’s a quick trip.” I’ll get in Friday afternoon and fly back early Sunday.

“Is Whitney going with you?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“She’s been my girlfriend for two seconds. I think I’ll save her the torture of meeting my parents and watching me pass out in front of my old classmates.”

“You’re going to be fine.” He pulls out his phone, and I guess that’s the end of that conversation.

I pick up my own phone, ignoring the speech for now and navigating back to my messages with Whitney. The varsity game was still finishing up last I talked to her. I hope they won, but I don’t think it’ll really improve her mood.

I hate that she’s struggling so much. And I hate it even more that I can’t figure out how to help her. I thought bringing the boys to the arena would help, I don’t know, inspire them or something, but I was grasping at straws. I think it was more inspiring to me than it was to them. I’m never going to forget looking up into the stands and seeing Whitney cheering me on while wearing my jersey.

My phone vibrates in my hands. D-Low is air-dropping a file. I glance up at him as I click Accept. He’s grinning at me.

When the file downloads and opens, I laugh.

“What is this?”

“My valedictorian speech.”

I should have guessed he was top of his class. I’ve never met anyone smarter than D-Low. Most guys who’ve already signed a professional deal would lessen their college load and focus on hockey. D-Low double-majored in aerospace engineering and math.

“For what purpose?” I read a few lines and chuckle under my breath. It’s good. Funny. Smart. Classic D-Low wit and charm.

“Backup in case you can’t come up with anything. You’ll have to tweak the wording, but there’s some gold in there.”

“‘Life’s a bitch. You’ve got to go out and kick ass,’” I read.

“My girl Maya Angelou said that.”

“And you put it in your high school valedictorian speech?” I scan the rest of it for other hidden gems.

“It’s a great quote. And also, I wanted an excuse to say ‘bitch’ and ‘ass’ in front of the entire school.” The corners of his mouth lift higher.

I’m not sure Coach Carson is looking for this type of “go out and conquer life” motivation going into retirement, but I appreciate the gesture anyway.

“Thanks.”

“Any time. In fact, I think I’ve got my eighth-grade graduation speech somewhere too.”

“You also spoke at your eighth-grade graduation?” Why am I even surprised?

“Mm-hmm.” He nods.