him it wasn’t a very good idea and he shouldn’t do it again.
Thinking about that, he laughed. “What are they going to do?” he said aloud. “Make me third-string?”
He was out the door and on his bike by five-twenty-five and pulled into the virtually empty back lot of the school by five-forty. As he locked his bike, he saw Coach Hillier come out the back door with a cup of coffee in his hand. Apparently, they’d be heading for the steps before Jonas arrived.
“Come on inside, Myers,” Coach Hillier said, waving at him with his free hand.
Or not.
Alex followed the coach through the locker room door and then up the steps and down the hallway to where the football offices were. No one else was around this early. Coach Hillier walked into his office and waved Alex to a seat.
“You drink coffee yet?” he asked.
Alex shook his head. “No.”
“Good.”
He had a file open in front of him on his desk.
“I guess you’ve had a tough few months,” he said, tapping the file. “Parents split, you move away from all your friends, start in a new school, and the one thing you’re really good at, you’re stymied because the coach’s son happens to start at your position.”
Alex knew that his reason for moving to Philadelphia couldn’t be in his file. Then again, he hadn’t hidden it from anyone, so it wouldn’t be hard for Coach Hillier to find out about it. He smiled, glad to have a sympathetic ear.
“It’s been kind of rough,” he said. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I just wanted to show people what I could do.”
“I know,” Coach Hillier said. “Trust me, people around here know you’re talented. But you can’t pull stuff like that. I can’t even make a case for you moving up to second team if the other coaches think you’re some kind of troublemaker.”
“I understand, Coach. You’re right. I just feel bad I got Jonas in trouble. He shouldn’t have to be here so early to run.”
Coach Hillier nodded. “Yeah. He made a mistake, but itsays a lot about him that he stuck with you even though he knew it almost certainly meant trouble for him.” He sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee. “So I told him to stay home and sleep.”
He looked at the coffee cup. “This is cold,” he said. “Let me get a hot cup and then we’ll go outside and run.”
For a moment Alex had thought he might get a reprieve. Coach Hillier seemed to read his mind. “I’m glad you know you made a mistake,” he said. “But I can’t let you off the hook. Put on some shorts and a T-shirt. I’ll meet you outside in five minutes.”
Alex understood. “Yes sir,” he said.
He got changed and headed out. The sun was up, but it would still be cool outside—that was about the only good thing about running at six a.m.
As he pushed open the door, he almost hit someone who was apparently about to pull it open.
“Sorry,” he said, stepping back.
“You better be sorry.” The door swung open and there, with a Starbucks cup in his hand, stood Coach Gordon.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Chester Heights’ number-one showoff,” Coach Gordon said when he saw Alex. “Off to run, I hope? Where’s Coach Hillier?”
“He went to get more coffee,” Alex said.
“You owe him an apology,” Coach Gordon said. “Don’t think for a second I don’t know you did that on your own.”
It occurred to Alex that apologizing to Coach Gordon might be a good idea—if only to make life a little easier for Coach Hillier. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. What’s more, he decided, it almost certainly wouldn’t make any difference.
“Well, enjoy your run. Knowing Coach Hillier, he’ll let you off easy—three or four circuits. If it were me, it would be more like ten.”
Alex had a number of responses for that, but he held his tongue.
“Yes sir,” he said.
Coach Gordon looked him up and down for a moment. “Myers, how tall are you?” he asked.
“About six one.”
“Are you fourteen or
Thinking about that, he laughed. “What are they going to do?” he said aloud. “Make me third-string?”
He was out the door and on his bike by five-twenty-five and pulled into the virtually empty back lot of the school by five-forty. As he locked his bike, he saw Coach Hillier come out the back door with a cup of coffee in his hand. Apparently, they’d be heading for the steps before Jonas arrived.
“Come on inside, Myers,” Coach Hillier said, waving at him with his free hand.
Or not.
Alex followed the coach through the locker room door and then up the steps and down the hallway to where the football offices were. No one else was around this early. Coach Hillier walked into his office and waved Alex to a seat.
“You drink coffee yet?” he asked.
Alex shook his head. “No.”
“Good.”
He had a file open in front of him on his desk.
“I guess you’ve had a tough few months,” he said, tapping the file. “Parents split, you move away from all your friends, start in a new school, and the one thing you’re really good at, you’re stymied because the coach’s son happens to start at your position.”
Alex knew that his reason for moving to Philadelphia couldn’t be in his file. Then again, he hadn’t hidden it from anyone, so it wouldn’t be hard for Coach Hillier to find out about it. He smiled, glad to have a sympathetic ear.
“It’s been kind of rough,” he said. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I just wanted to show people what I could do.”
“I know,” Coach Hillier said. “Trust me, people around here know you’re talented. But you can’t pull stuff like that. I can’t even make a case for you moving up to second team if the other coaches think you’re some kind of troublemaker.”
“I understand, Coach. You’re right. I just feel bad I got Jonas in trouble. He shouldn’t have to be here so early to run.”
Coach Hillier nodded. “Yeah. He made a mistake, but itsays a lot about him that he stuck with you even though he knew it almost certainly meant trouble for him.” He sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee. “So I told him to stay home and sleep.”
He looked at the coffee cup. “This is cold,” he said. “Let me get a hot cup and then we’ll go outside and run.”
For a moment Alex had thought he might get a reprieve. Coach Hillier seemed to read his mind. “I’m glad you know you made a mistake,” he said. “But I can’t let you off the hook. Put on some shorts and a T-shirt. I’ll meet you outside in five minutes.”
Alex understood. “Yes sir,” he said.
He got changed and headed out. The sun was up, but it would still be cool outside—that was about the only good thing about running at six a.m.
As he pushed open the door, he almost hit someone who was apparently about to pull it open.
“Sorry,” he said, stepping back.
“You better be sorry.” The door swung open and there, with a Starbucks cup in his hand, stood Coach Gordon.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Chester Heights’ number-one showoff,” Coach Gordon said when he saw Alex. “Off to run, I hope? Where’s Coach Hillier?”
“He went to get more coffee,” Alex said.
“You owe him an apology,” Coach Gordon said. “Don’t think for a second I don’t know you did that on your own.”
It occurred to Alex that apologizing to Coach Gordon might be a good idea—if only to make life a little easier for Coach Hillier. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. What’s more, he decided, it almost certainly wouldn’t make any difference.
“Well, enjoy your run. Knowing Coach Hillier, he’ll let you off easy—three or four circuits. If it were me, it would be more like ten.”
Alex had a number of responses for that, but he held his tongue.
“Yes sir,” he said.
Coach Gordon looked him up and down for a moment. “Myers, how tall are you?” he asked.
“About six one.”
“Are you fourteen or
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