Gimme Everything You Got - Iva-Marie Palmer Page 0,31
you see what I mean?”
He was looking right into my eyes, like I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Or like he really cared what I thought, which was almost better. Maybe it wasn’t so dumb after all.
“Anyway, you didn’t tell me why you stopped by,” he said, as I was trying to pull my stare away from the faint stubble along his jaw. He was so foxy.
“I, uh . . . ,” I stammered. I forgave him. Not only because he looked so gorgeous, like he was a prince trying to convince me to come down from my tower. It was because he’d apologized, and he’d also explained. And his explanation wasn’t to blame something else, like his freshman algebra class had been shitty that day. He’d given me a real reason. Something personal. He’d told me. How could I not forgive him?
“Will we get uniforms?” I finished.
“I wanted us to have goals first. But I’m working on uniforms,” Bobby said. He looked at the piles of football uniforms on the shelf across from his desk. “I know, it seems like the boys’ teams have more than enough equipment, but that’s how pioneers like us have to operate. You might want to consider getting a pair of cleats in the meantime.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, getting up, because I had no other reason to be there. “That’s a good idea. Thank you.”
I turned to go, but my heart caught when he said, “Susan, can I say one more thing?”
I’ve been noticing you and I can’t stop thinking about you.
I don’t know if I can be your coach for much longer, because these thoughts I have are inappropriate.
You have an amazing ass and I dream of it at night.
I know you’re special, but we can’t be together—at least, not now.
“Sure,” I said, only turning halfway toward him so I didn’t look too eager.
“I thought you were going to quit the team just now,” he said, standing up and putting one hand on my shoulder as he looked into my eyes. My whole body got warm. “I know it’s a lot to learn, but I’m so glad you’re sticking with it.”
His voice was soft and . . . significant. It was important to him that I believed him, I could tell.
“I’m going to stick with it . . . ,” I said, trying to load my voice with as much meaning as I could. It was like speaking in code, my words saying a simple thing while the way I said them had to convey something much more complex.
“Do you think anyone is taking it seriously? I don’t know if I’m getting through.” His eyes looked hopeful, not unlike Polly’s when she’d asked me to be her maid of honor. “It’s new territory for me, and I want to be a good coach.”
What could I say? No, we’re mostly hopeless jerks who think you’re hot likely wouldn’t be the right response. And he was asking me what I thought. It was somehow way better than if he’d asked me for a date. “I think . . . I’m very happy to be on your team.”
“I’m very happy you’re on my team, too,” he said. “You have amazing potential.”
Eight
I told Candace and Tina at lunch that I’d changed my mind and decided not to quit. Tina tried to hide her grin as she said, “That’s cool.”
I hoped Candace might reconsider, but she seemed bewildered. “I thought you said soccer was a drag.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I started to feel like maybe I have some potential, and I don’t want to give up so fast.” I wasn’t going to mention the one-on-one meeting with Bobby, but I liked putting his word—“potential”—in the air, like it linked us somehow.
“Um, okay,” Candace said. We were used to being on the same wavelength, and my sudden shift from leaving the team to staying on it clearly didn’t make sense to her.
“Maybe you don’t want to quit, either?” Tina suggested.
“No,” Candace said, putting a straw in her Tab. “I’ve been so happy all morning knowing I don’t have to go back today.”
Tina caught my eye across the table and gave a slight shrug.
That afternoon, we had a short practice. Bobby was obviously trying to be a touch gentler after the way things went yesterday, but we were all trying harder, too. We didn’t dwell on the day before, but when he sent us home for the weekend, he said, “I’m glad to see most of