by Marian Tee
Lace wasn’t bothered. Rather, she was ecstatic. It had been five days since that time. Five days since they saw her not acting like a coach, five days since they started acting like they were walking on eggshells when she was around.
But that was going to fucking stop today, Lace thought.
While she did appreciate her boys’ concern, she was also sick of it. Them being nice only made her feel more fatalistic, like an official breakup with Silver was just around the corner. Obviously, she didn’t want that. What she did want was to have her normal life back, which meant her boys being pigheaded, egoistic jerks and Silver being the only man in her life to indulge her whims.
Every time they were nice to her, it just made Lace miss him more, miss Silver being nice to her—-
Oh fuck, stop this whining, Lace Wyndham. You’re stronger than this.
“All good now, Coach,” Ivan said.
When Lace opened her eyes, everyone was indeed dressed and staring at her. Normally, their faces were open books but right now, she couldn’t tell what any one of them was thinking, which made her nervous.
“So...” She cleared her throat, buying herself some time.
“Is this about you getting dumped, Coach?” Alexio asked bluntly.
Lace froze.
Everyone erupted in Greek as they threw their water bottles and towels at the team’s power forward.
“What?” Alexio burst out defensively but with a telltale flush on his cheeks. “I was doing her a favor since she couldn’t seem to tell us the truth—-”
“It’s okay,” Lace said loudly. It was pointless to blame Alexio for being his usual blunt self. He had always been like that, and it was the number one reason he often got into foul trouble even before the first quarter ended.
When her boys turned to her, she beamed at them. “See? I’m okay.”
Silence.
Finally, Ivan said, “You’re a bad liar, Coach.”
She glared. "I’m not lying. I’m okay. I’m fine. And,” she added fiercely, “we did not break up.” She glared at them harder, daring any one of them to say otherwise.
And they did not.
They did not.
She had her Google Alerts sending her all news concerning Silver March and so far, not one article had claimed him to be free.
So...they had not broken up.
Right?
Lace was badly tempted to sit on the floor and cry. How pathetic was this? She was Silver March’s girlfriend, and she was reduced to relying on the Internet to find out if they had broken up or not.
Around her, the whole team still appeared unconvinced.
“Stop worrying about me, okay? I’m okay. Got that?” No one answered. “Do I have to remind you guys I’m the one you trusted to take you all the way to the championship?” Lace snapped.
More silence before Ivan clarified, “If you haven’t broken up then...you got into a serious fight with Silver March? You’re on the brink of breaking up then? Would that be more accurate?”
Lace hesitated. If she didn’t say yes, would it make her problems less...real?
Finally, she shook her head. “No. We’re not on the verge of breaking up.”
Her boys looked at each other. “Definitely about to break up,” Vasyl said.
Lace’s eyes widened. “Did you not hear what I said?”
“Yeah, she has that look on her face, like the time she told us we could all be the next Michael Jordan.” Drew rolled his eyes.
Lace colored. “I was just trying to motivate you all—-”
“Coach.” Damian speaking was such a rare occurrence it made everyone shut up.
“What is it?”
His voice too gentle for a six-foot-seven ex-MMA fighter, Damian said, “We’re on to you. You don’t have to tell us. We know it. And...” Damian paused, an awkward look falling over his face. “If it means anything, we all think this is gonna pass. Silver March’s so head over heels in love with you, it’s not funny—-”
Alexio muttered, “Damn strange if you asked me—-oww.”
Damian came forward and patted Lace on the back, strong enough to almost send her flying. “Don’t worry about it, Coach,” he said gruffly. “He’ll come back to you.”
Slowly, Lace covered her face.
Oh, God.
She was going to cry again.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice muffled. “Sorry for bringing my personal shit to the floor.”
A pat on the head. “You’re not perfect, Coach.” Vasyl’s voice was reasonable and mature beyond his years. “You tell us that all the time, but you can’t seem to remember it applies to you, too.”
Oh, God. She really was going to cry, and Lace wailed, “I don’t want to cry.” She pressed her hands harder to her face.
She knew...she knew she could just talk about it now. Tell them what was happening. Ask them for help. But she couldn’t. And this time, it wasn’t just because she was too proud, like the prince said.
This time, it was because she knew Silver would be even more hurt if he found out she had trusted other people over him to help her.
“I’ve been such a bitch to him.” She said it out loud, the words her way of punishing herself. When no one denied it, she felt even worse.
“Now, Coach, and I don’t want you to take this negatively but...you need to hear a couple of painful truths about yourself.”
It just showed how low she had sunk, Lace thought, sniffing, that she would seriously consider taking advice from the NCAA’s greatest playboy...of all time.
“First, you’ve got the worst traits a girlfriend could ever have. You never compliment your boyfriend. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say something nice about March without him twisting your arm to say it.”
“And I get it – you’re one of those types who think showing your feelings will make you weak. But the thing is, Coach...when you don’t say or do anything at all to make your guy feel he’s important to you, he’s bound to misunderstand sooner or later.”
Lace slowly lowered her hands from her face. “Misunderstand...what?”
“What you feel for him,” Drew said simply. “You know what the most sensitive part of a man’s person is?”
She seriously thought about it. “His balls?”
“Just what you’d expect,” Alexio muttered, “from a girl who crushes balls for a job.”
Drew shook his head. “Good guess, but no. It’s our ego. If you haven’t said or done anything to let Silver March knows he matters to you...even the most confident guys would end up assuming the worst...and—-”
“And...what?”
“We tend to lash out first just to protect ourselves,” Drew finished.
The words were a punch to the guts, and Lace cringed as the past came back to her. Things that she thought were harmless were something she now saw with different eyes, and they weren’t...pretty.
Surely Silver wouldn’t ever think she had a thing going on with Gabe? The prince was his friend first, after all.
But...didn’t the prince himself tell her they weren’t that close?
Lace chewed her lip. Even so, Silver had to know she wasn’t the unfaithful type...right?
Panic fluttered inside her stomach even as she convinced herself there was nothing to worry about. She could still fix this, could still fix everything. Because when she really thought about it...
Grant’s threat hanging over her was nothing compared to the terror she felt at the thought of Silver leaving her for good.
She began to hyperventilate.
“Coach, are you okay?”
She was Evangeline Lace Wyndham, the girl who could apply basketball analogies to every situation. The girl who could always be counted on for a solution. So why the fuck couldn’t she think of something—-
Someone knocked on the main door, interrupting her thoughts. A moment later, the door opened, Coach Rob’s head popping, his searching gaze resting on Lace. “Good. I thought I’d find you
here. I need a second with you in the office.”
“TAKE A SEAT, LACE.” Coach Rob’s voice was pleasant, but his usually smiling face was grim. A tall, well-built man in his forties, the university’s athletics department head used to play for the Hawks until an injury had cut his two-year-old career short.
Since then, Rob had made a name for himself in scouting, his ability to find diamonds in the rough unparalleled. His latest discovery might prove to be the most epic of all, one that could get his name on the history books forever.
Or it would be so if he could just manage to keep her on track.
“It’s that bad, huh?” Lace muttered. As she took the seat across Coach Rob’s desk, she was careful not to let her eyes stray towards the other half of the office, which was where her stuff was.
This was the same office where she had touched herself at Silver’s command, and she didn’t really want to think of that time. Right now, all of her memories of Silver felt so long ago, like they had happened to another person.
“...Lace?”
Lace reddened, realizing she had actually spaced out in the middle of Coach Rob’s words. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Would love always be this all-consuming, to the point that she’d forget she was about to have her first scolding as CU’s head basketball coach?
Swallowing, she said humbly, “I’m sorry, Coach.”
“You’re really starting to worry me,” Coach Rob said, frowning. “Especially in light of what I’ve got to say.”
Lace stilled in her seat. Since Coach Rob was the type to tell them “good job” even when they had their asses whooped, his lack of optimism didn’t bode well at all.
“I know we haven’t gotten to talk much since your transfer here.” Coach Rob’s gaze fixed on hers, as if her next words were something he wanted to gauge. “I thought I’d let you find your rhythm on your own. Did I make the right choice?”
She nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”
Coach Rob sighed in relief. “Good, good. I thought so.” Leaning back against his chair, he tapped his fingers on the desk for a while, a pensive look on his face. “And you’re happy here, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mm hmm...” With a sigh, he straightened in his seat and swung his chair around to face Lace. “I truly believe you have what it takes to make it to the NBA, you know.”
Lace didn’t dare blink. In the mood she was in, words like that could get her to break down if she did.
“That’s why I thought I’d give you free rein with this team. You’ve got a way about you, Wyndham. And, I thought, with you at the helm...you could achieve the impossible with these guys and make them a team.”
He paused.
She waited, knowing there had to be a clincher somewhere.
“But...”
Lace told herself not to panic.
“You might not be their coach for long.”
Lace forgot all about her intentions not to panic, flying to her feet. “Coach!” This couldn’t be happening, she thought hysterically. Her gaze shot up to the ceiling. You’re kidding, right, God? I’ve learned my lesson. I will never be sarcastic again. Just don’t take this away from me.
If Silver left her, and if she was kicked out of the basketball team...
She would have nothing left to her.
“Calm down, Lace—-”
She threw her hands up. “If you’re going to kick me out—-”
“I said ‘might’.”
Slowly, Lace started breathing again and she stopped pacing in front of Coach Rob.
“You see, I’ve had a talk with your history professor.”
Lace flinched, realizing what this was all about.
“If you flunk your midterms...” Coach Rob’s tone sharpened. “I’ll have no choice but to suspend you from the team.”
God. This was just...this was just so like her life. Every time she hit a rough patch, it would be followed by another and another and another.
“I gotta admit...I never saw this coming.”
She hung her head in shame. She knew why. Every damn guy in her team was a Dean’s Lister and here she was, their coach, and she couldn’t even get a stupid C in History.
“You understand I have no power to prevent your suspension if you do fail?”
“Yes, Coach,” Lace mumbled. “And I’m sorry. I’ll make sure my grades won’t be a problem.”
“I’m relieved to hear that.” Coach Rob hesitated. “I know I’m not here all the time, but if there’s something wrong...you know my door’s open anytime.”
She shook her head. “I’m good, Coach.” Like she’d ever tell him she was so stressed over Grant and missing Silver so much she couldn’t concentrate on her studies. Lace Wyndham having boy trouble? She’d rather flunk the exam outright.
“There’s one last thing.”
Her head shot up. Really? She almost wanted to look up and ask God if this was His way of showing love.
“There’s been a change in tomorrow’s schedule, and the new match will be between us and your old school Northwest.”
Damn. It. To. Hell.
Even the name alone gave her the chills, and the thought of having to face her old team again, not to mention Grant...
Did Coach Rob know what he was asking, Lace wondered dully. It was like...it was like being told she had to go through microfracture knee surgery tonight then being asked to play tomorrow...and win the game.
Coach Rob eyed her warily. “That won’t be too much or...”
She forced a smile. “Not at all. We’re going to kill it.”
And they were. They were. She was just going to borrow a page from Amar’e Stoudemire’s book. That guy didn’t just survive a potentially career-ruining injury, but he had also come back to wow NBA fans all over the world with his midrange jumpers, making it seem like his stint in rehab had worked like a sports camp instead.
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Coach Rob was about to say more, but when Lace’s phone rang, he waved a dismissive hand. “Go answer that. We’re finished here, anyway. Just don’t forget, Wyndham: you can’t afford to flunk History, so be sure to study.”
“Yes, Coach.”
He smiled briefly. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, though. You’re extremely good at what you do, but it’s normal if you stumble along the way. What’s gonna make you an exceptional coach is learning how to pick yourself up. Be that role model your boys need you to be.”
Damn. It. To. Hell.
Everyone was doing their best to make her cry right now.
Ignoring her itchy eyes as best as she could, Lace nodded jerkily. “Thanks, Coach.”
“See you tomorrow. Go and get some rest now. I’ll go and tell the guys myself.”
Outside the office, Lace debated whether to answer the phone or not, already knowing who it was. But her phone continued to ring, and after five full minutes, she finally answered it. “What is it?”
Grant chuckled over the phone. “You sound beautiful when you’re mad, Lacey baby.”
Silver saying words like that somehow turned her on, but when it was Grant...
Her skin crawled. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that he truly did get off on her pain, that he could come just by thinking of her suffering so much.
“What do you want?” she asked wearily.
“Still you, Lacey baby.”
She wanted to kick herself for even asking.
“Nothing to say?”
Other girls might consider his cooing voice sexy, but all it did was make Lace feel like throwing up. Just hearing him speak to her like that already felt like she was cheating on Silver, and she didn’t want that. At all.
“If you don’t have anything to say—-”
“Oh, I do. But not over the phone. I’d like us to meet again.”
“No.”
“Are you sure? You don’t want to talk about my plans for our website launch?”
Lace couldn’t eve
n muster enough energy to rail at him for being deliberately vague. “Grant—-”
“I’ve got so many exciting plans, and I want you to be the first to know. That’s why we should meet—-”
“No.” She would never meet with him again, never wanted to lie about it to Silver another time.
“—-and luckily for you,” Grant continued, as if not hearing her speak, “—-we’re already outside your dorm.”
Bad Falls
He stood there, his brown hair properly combed, green eyes smiling, and exuding charm like he was running for Mr. America or even the White House. It made all the girls around him sigh dreamily, but when Lace looked at Grant, all she wanted to do was kill herself. How could she have been so stupid? How did she not see everything of him was just a lie?
Beside Grant was an older man, his presence momentarily diverting her. He seemed familiar and not familiar at the same time, like someone she knew but couldn’t imagine having anything to do with Grant.
Partially hidden behind the tall trees lining the street, she worked hard to catch a glimpse of his face while she huffed and puffed as silently as she could. Normally, a walk from the gym to her dorm would take twenty minutes, but this time she had managed it in twelve. Who would have thought fear would work greater wonders than Nike’s best running shoes?
When the man turned towards her direction, their gazes immediately met, both of them recognizing each other.
What the hell was Alfred Cohen doing here? An ex-Times journalist, he was supposedly kicked out of his old job after coming under suspicion for accepting bribes to not write about the truth. Since then, he had made a name for himself in another field, writing about sports scandals with a decidedly sensationalized angle.
Lace’s sense of foreboding worsened as she watched Alfred whisper in Grant’s ear while his gaze remained on her, the lascivious joy in his eyes unmistakable.
Grant’s handsome face broke into a smile when he turned her way and saw Lace. He crossed the street without hesitation, calling out to her, “Hey, Lacey baby.”
She wanted to run away but forced herself to stay put, knowing that escaping would only delay the inevitable. “What are you doing here?” she asked stiffly.
His smile didn’t dim at all. “Just checking up on you. Is that bad?”