Page 77 of Breaking the Ice

Does he mean the fact that I’m married to his daughter? I wait, but he doesn’t expound.

“No, I don’t. I⁠—”

“Then it won’t surprise you to learn that you’re benched this weekend. Out for both games against Ohio State.”

His pronouncement lands like a barbell in my lap, and all the breath wooshes out of my body. I mean, I knew there was a chance he’d do this. But…

“It’s my senior year, Coach. Both games? Can’t you just bump me down a line or something?”

That was the wrong thing to say. His face goes from red to purple, and he stands up behind his desk, finger wagging in my face.

“Apparently you haven’t learned any responsibility on my team for the last three years. So no, I absolutely will not be doing that. This is my team, and you’re not playing on it this weekend.”

Responsibility, huh? Not something I’ve ever been good at. His subtext screams that I’m not fit for his daughter, either, but I’m not ready to say that out loud. I could have let Isabella’s mom take care of her yesterday, but that didn’t sit right. I stare down at my feet in my slides. There’s a hole in the toe of my sock.

Whatever. I rise out of the chair, hands swinging at my sides. “I guess we see this differently, Coach.”

“I still expect you to practice with the team this week,” he bites out.

“Of course.”

I turn and exit his office. I’ve been benched more games than I’ve played this year. With a sigh, I finish dressing for practice and prepare to have Coach punish me for the next two hours.

Whatever I imagined, it’s worse. I think I’m going to change my name, because every time Coach yells it, I’m triggered.

I execute passing drills, I skate suicides, and I’m assigned the task of cleaning the locker room after everyone leaves, too. Which is perfect, because I still have to plan all my lessons for tomorrow. I thought student teaching would be mostly dodgeball and the parachute, but I have to turn in my plans every day. Considering I see six classes of kids, it’s more than I bargained for.

By the time I drag myself back to my locker, I expect the room to be empty. Thank god, Coach has left.

But Caleb, Mateo, and Jonas block my way, arms crossed, staring at me.

“What are you guys doing here?” I ask.

Caleb and Mateo shrug.

Jonas looks me in the eye. “We’re a team. No matter what. So we’re gonna help out.”

I raise a brow. “Really? You want to scrub toilets?”

I’m being a jerk. But I wanted to wallow in my misery by myself.

“Yeah.” Caleb elbows me as he walks by. “I love toilets.”

“And you.” I swing my gaze to Mateo. “You’re going to clean the showers?”

“Uh-huh.” He ruffles my hair. “It’s my special talent.”

“I suppose you are going to mop the floors?” I ask Jonas, the bite leaving my voice.

“Nope.” He shakes his head and rocks on the balls of his feet. “You are. I hate mopping. But I’m gonna disinfect everything.”

“Because we are a team.” I repeat his comment.

“Yep.”

“Even if I can’t play?”

“Even then.”