to it, Mel had asked Coach to trust her. By giving her the jerseys, it meant that he did.
Mel blinks.
Let’s see how this plays out.
“I should probably text him, though, just to make sure.”
“Mel, don’t! It’s late. We’re supposed to be at your house sleeping. We don’t want to piss him off more. If it was a mistake, we can just get the varsity jerseys from him tomorrow. Even without them, we’ve still had an awesome night. Your Psych-Up was a total success.”
Mel smiles at the compliment but there is an uneasy feeling in her stomach. “Don’t worry.” Phoebe starts to follow her into the parking lot, but Mel holds up her hands. “Stay with the girls, okay?”
“What do you want me to tell them?”
“Have them keep singing until I can figure out what’s going on.”
She shoves her hands into the pockets of her cutoffs and walks quickly toward her car. The parking lot lights collect moths, confetti that never falls to the ground. Behind her, her teammates sing dutifully.
We are the Wildcats, the navy blue and white,
We are the Wildcats, always ready for a fight!
Don’t mess with the Wildcats, we won’t accept defeat,
For we are the Wildcats, and we will not be beat!
Three cheers for the Wildcats, your honor we’ll defend,
’Cause when you’re a Wildcat, you’re a Wildcat till the end!
Mel takes out her phone. She’s not even sure what she should write.
MEL: Hey.
Coach answers almost immediately. Like he’s been waiting to hear from her. His phone expectantly in his hand.
COACH: ?
MEL: I’m sorry to be texting so late.
MEL: But I just realized that the bag you gave me was full of practice pinnies
MEL: Not varsity jerseys
She waits to see if he’ll respond.
MEL: And I’m wondering if that was an accident or …
Mel’s heartbeat fills her ears.
COACH: Seriously?
COACH:
MEL: I don’t understand.
COACH: Yeah. I know.
COACH: That’s coming through loud and clear.
Mel looks around. The parking lot is empty. The street quiet. She turns to the field and sees that the sparklers have gone out. All that remains are curls of cinder smoke.
She will have to walk over there and tell the girls there are no varsity jerseys. There will be no ceremony. Phoebe was sweet to say this part didn’t matter, that her Psych-Up was still a success. But Mel knows the jersey ceremony is the point. So to have it taken away from her is humiliating.
He’s humiliated her in front of her team.
Why?
Her hands shaking, Mel types faster than she thinks, rapid fire, two thumbs.
MEL: You said you wanted me to help fix our team.
MEL: I told you I had a plan.
MEL: So why didn’t you at least give me a chance?
MEL: Why did you trick me into thinking that you trusted me?
MEL: Why not just tell me to my face?
MEL: Instead of making me look like an idiot in front of all the girls?
Her chest rises and falls. The gush of adrenaline leaves Mel slightly nauseous. She’s never gone off on Coach like that before. She immediately regrets it. But Mel finds validation in watching Coach struggle to respond. She sees him write back, then stop, write back, then stop.
It startles her when her phone rings in her hand.
“After everything I said tonight, in the backyard and privately to you, why would you think for a second you girls deserve your jerseys?” Coach lets out a loud breath. Impatient static. “Honestly, Mel? You proved my point better than I was able to myself. This should show you just how far off the rails the Wildcats have gone.”
Mel slowly sinks to the ground and hugs her knees.
“I’ll take some of the blame for us being in this situation. I let you girls get too complacent, pumped up your egos too much. Potential isn’t the same as destiny. We’re not hungry enough.” She hears him switch his phone from one side of his face to the other. “You’re the perfect example of that.”
“How so?”
“I should have never made you captain after you committed to Truman. After I heard about your boyfriend.”
Mel’s cheeks burn like they’ve been slapped.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
She’s telling the truth. She’s never once lied to Coach.
And she wants so badly to bite back. Inform Coach that, on the first day of tryouts, one of the JV players swore on her mother’s grave that over July 4 weekend Coach drove past her with Miss Candurra riding shotgun. The news didn’t do much for Mel’s appetite, but it served as a lip-smacking feast for her teammates, who knew only