“See you.” I throw him apologetic eyes as my teammates steer me down the hallway.
We barge into Coach’s office, where she looks impossibly small behind her desk, not the big presence she is on the field when she’s yelling at us.
Coach eyes us suspiciously. “What’s all this?”
Karen bursts, “We came to tell you how much we love you.”
Coach’s eyes narrow. “Where was that love when I made you run sprints with your goalie gear on?”
“Bygones, ladies,” Melissa says.
“We really do love you, Coach,” Samantha says. “And some of us won’t be here next year, so we wanted you to know we couldn’t have won State without you.”
“Or Zee.” Karen hugs my shoulder.
I lean into her. “Right back at you.”
Coach stands, adjusts the whistle that perpetually hangs around her neck. “It just goes to show you how hard work and dedication will pay off. Remember that next year. It’s been an honor to watch you grow into remarkable women.”
“Thanks Coach,” a few girls whisper.
As she talks, I know my time with the team is over. I mean really over. This moment makes me see that every relationship I have is in flux, which is by far the strangest part of senior year limbo. I won’t have Coach watching over me next year, pumping me full of confidence for my work on the field. My stomach unstitches with the pull of a dark, distant thread. That string that’s tied to the ache I feel when I think about Dad leaving. I take a deep breath and shove that murkiness down to my feet.
Coach comes to me and gives me a small hug. When she releases, I feel her familiar claw-grip penetrate my shoulder. “You’ve been a real leader this year, Doyle.” I nod, but it’s hard to reconcile this emotionally charged coach with the hard-ass I’ve known. “I want you and Karen to accept the trophy for the team on Alumni Weekend.”
Alumni Weekend is this huge fall event in Sudbury, when alums come back to town and the football team plays on Saturday and there’s a parade the whole town turns out for. It’s the Super Bowl mashed with the queen’s visit, Sudbury style.
“You should do it,” I tell Coach. “It’s your team.”
“Don’t fool yourself, Doyle. This team belongs to you and Karen.”
The girls throw up a low hoot, thundering the concrete wall with their palms.
“Okay then. I’d be honored.”
“Me too,” Karen says.
Maybe it’s the closure I’ll need before saying good-bye to all the parts of Sudbury I never thought I’d miss.
When I return to my locker, I realize I’m still holding the envelope Alec gave me. I tear open the flap and remove the card. It’s bright white with a simple, small cupcake in the middle. The cupcake is decorated with a smiling clown, complete with a pointy hat. The caption: “Life is better with a sugar buzz on.” The word “sugar” is crossed out and Alec’s written “Zephyr” instead. I bite my lip and beam.
I flip the card open and there is a heart scrawled next to his initial. I study the lines of the heart, how he drew it for me, and I’m unable to tame my smile, even when Lizzie sneaks up from behind. “Heavy,” she says.
“Where did you come from?”
“I saw you walk by the common room. I was covertly researching teen study habits for a new piece I’m writing and thought I’d see what had you skipping study hall.” She nods toward the card. “I give Hockey Boy mad respect. An old school card and the proper shout-out to sugar.”
The faint heat of a blush colors my cheeks and I wave the card in front of my face like it’s a hot day in July instead of a chilly November morning.
“He seems pretty great.”
“He is. I mean think about it. Alec had to go to a store. Pick out a card. Search for the perfect one. Modify it so it was even more perfect. That might be the definition of ‘pretty great.’ ”
“I already gave him a shout-out. No need to sell me on him.”
I tuck the card back into its envelope and can’t help having an Alec buzz on.
“I guess this means you’re definitely not hung up on Slice dating Lani?”
“I told you, I never cared about that.”
“Okay. Just as long as you’re sure.”
• • •
When I see the back of Alec’s head in the hall on the way to fourth period, I race to catch up to him, dodging students in my quest. I grab his arm and he slows enough for me to lean into his side. “Hey there.”
“How was your coach?”
“Good. Sappy.” I shake my head. “Whatever, look—”