house of cards.
Callie narrows her eyes at me. “You look tired.”
I feel tired. Worse than that, I feel empty. But there is no way I’ll admit that out loud.
“That’s why I’m going to stop by Cup It Up to grab coffee before I go to the library. Wanna join?”
Callie jumps to her feet and grabs her bag. “Is that even a question?”
Just mention coffee and she’ll forget about anything. At least this time, it’s going in my favor.
The consistent buzzing wakes me up. I moan in protest, squeezing my eyes shut. Both my body and mind are so tired I can barely move. The buzzing stops, but starts again shortly after. I try to wave my hand over my ear, hoping if it’s a mosquito or fly or something, I’ll make it go the fuck away and leave me alone, but it doesn’t stop.
Groggy, I open one eye.
Fuck.
My phone.
I jolt upright, my aching muscles protesting the sudden movement. Half blind, I reach for my phone and swipe to answer it.
“Hello?”
My voice is breathless, heart galloping a hundred miles a minute. Maybe it’s Nixon finally reaching out. Maybe he decided that he made a mistake and realized that he can’t do this all on his own, that he needs his friends. That he needs me.
“Yasmin? Where are you?”
My excitement instantly dies down like a deflated balloon.
“Coach.” I lean back in my chair and massage my throbbing temples. Just another man I haven’t seen in a while, but in this case it was me who did the avoiding, not the other way around. “Why are you calling me?”
He’s had my phone number, but in all this time he hasn’t used it once.
“Maybe because you should have been here an hour ago?” he says, clearly irritated with the whole situation.
An hour…
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Tuesday. How could have I forgotten? Why hasn’t my alarm gone off?
“Are you…”
“I was studying and lost track of time.” Standing up, I look down at my clothes, an old pair of leggings and wrinkled t-shirt. I’m a mess, but it’s been my go-to lately. It’ll have to do. “I’ll be there in a bit.”
“You look like shit,” Coach says as soon as he opens the door.
“Thanks,” I say dully. Shoving him out of my way, I slip inside. “I’d say it’s good to see you, but we both know it’d be a lie.”
You just have to get through this, I chant over and over in my mind. But even that doesn’t help this time.
“Cut it on that attitude, will ya? I was worried when you didn’t show.”
“Well, you have a funny way of showing it,” I say sarcastically as I take my usual seat in the kitchen.
Coach stops in the doorway, looking at me contemplatively. “Were you with him?”
“Him who?”
I know what he’s asking. There is only one him Coach could be talking about with that gloomy scowl etched into his face, but I don’t have to make it easy for him.
“Don’t play coy with me. One of my players, Yasmin? Really?”
And there it is, the reason why I was wary of seeing him even more than usual.
I should have known it wouldn’t take him long to bring Nixon up. The last time I saw Coach, I was standing by Nixon’s side when he was burying his mother. Coach isn’t one to beat around the bush, so it was bound to happen sooner rather than later.
“I don’t see how Nixon has anything to do with this. I told you, I was late…”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard it all.” He waves me off. His bushy brows connect as his scowl deepens, eyes narrowing at me. “I’m not just talking about today.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“You dating one of my players behind my back, that’s what I’m talking about!” he yells, a throbbing vein appearing on his forehead.
Well, that escalated quickly.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business. Whatever is or isn’t happening between me and Nixon is of no concern to you.”
“No concern to me?” He stalks closer, hands fisted by his sides as he looks down at me. “You’re my daughter, and he’s one of my star players, how is that of no concern to me?”
I get up, placing my palms on the table so forcefully the plates rattle. “Your daughter? Your daughter?! Nineteen fucking years, you had nineteen fucking years, and in all this time you’ve never, not once claimed me as yours, and you decide to do it now?”
“You’ll not…”
My vision goes hazy, breaths ragged. Grabbing the