at the picture of Cody again. Tears stung at her eyes, but she blinked them away. Suddenly her anger and inability to forgive him felt like a mountain resting on her chest … making it hard to feel gentle about anything. Amazing that after a fun Skype date with Brandon she could still feel so upset by Cody.
Dear Lord, I don’t want to hold anything against him … but I can feel it in my heart … I’m still so mad. So hurt.
Then some of her anger melted away.
Let your gentleness be evident to all, daughter … I am with you always.
God was speaking to her, she had no doubt. He was using the Bible — the way He often did when she prayed — making His will known to her by bringing a verse to mind. The realization was sobering. She couldn’t hold a grudge against Cody and be gentle at the same time.
Bailey drew a slow breath and relaxed a little as she exhaled. If she was going to deal with her anger toward Cody she would have to start somewhere. Maybe if he were out of sight, she wouldn’t think about him. The way he clearly didn’t think about her. This time, without second-guessing herself, she did the only thing she could do.
She took Cody’s photo and dropped to her knees. Then she gently sent it sliding beneath her pretty bed, all the way up against the opposite floorboard. That way she wouldn’t have to look at his face again.
Even if she wanted to.
CODY HAD STARTED HIS FACEBOOK PAGE for two reasons: to update the kids at Lyle High about the football program … and to keep them posted on Cheyenne’s progress. Cody sat in his bed, his legs stretched out, his laptop open. Facebook also gave him a chance to keep up on his players, all of whom were his friends on the social media site now.
He clicked to Arnie Hurley’s page. Arnie was a senior, the starting quarterback. But his profile picture looked like something from a honeymoon album. He and his girlfriend, arms around each other, the two of them locked in a significant kiss — the sort of kiss that could lead any guy to places he didn’t really want to go. “Nice,” Cody muttered, frustrated. He’d have to have a talk with Arnie. Rumor was the kid was sneaking into his girlfriend’s room every other night. Cody hadn’t believed that until now.
Cody clicked out of Arnie’s profile and opened the one belonging to Marcos Brown. His most recent status update said only: “Working on the farm. Again.” Marcos lived with his cousin’s family on a farm at the outskirts of town. Three years ago, his mother died of the flu, and his father was a lifer at the state penitentiary, convicted of killing his boss in an argument over a pay raise, according to the school principal, Ms. Baker.
As it turned out, the boy’s uncle demanded hard work and lots of it — and he didn’t believe much in sports. The man also thought doing homework was a sign of weakness, which meant Marcos was pulling an F in two classes and a D in another. If he didn’t pick up his grades, he wouldn’t be able to play next year — and he was easily their biggest lineman. Cody made a mental note to talk to Marcos tomorrow.
He checked a few other players’ pages and caught what looked like beer in the background of a couple photos. The more Cody looked through the profiles of his players, the more he became convinced he needed a meeting. He wasn’t taking a group of noncommitted kids into football summer camp this year. Not when so much was riding on the coming season. The whole town expected them to fail. If Coach Oliver couldn’t do anything with the Lyle Buckaroos — then Cody couldn’t possibly be better. He was too young. That was the mind-set.
“You’ve heard of a rebuilding year,” one of the old men told him after practice last week. “Well, we’re looking for this to be a five-year rebuilding project.” He gave Cody a sharp but friendly slap in the shoulder. “It’ll take that long for you to look a day older than them boys out there on the field.”
Cody was aware of the doubts around Lyle. He could live with that. What he couldn’t live with — absolutely not — was standing by and watching his players throw away their chances.