Under the Bleachers: A Novel

by K. K. Allen

  “But that man isn’t the same one I know. I can’t hate him, Monica. I feel like that’s what I’m supposed to do here. I’m supposed to be your hero. But he’s—”

  I can’t take it anymore. “Then why did you come here?” My seething words are quiet, but firm. “It’s all out in the open now. You know everything about my life: my past, my present. God only knows what my future will be like. You shouldn’t have come here.”

  He covers his hands with his face and drags them down before dropping them, helpless. “What do I do, then? Tell me. He’s still my coach, and that’s not going to change anytime soon. We can’t erase either of our pasts, Monica. We’re parallel lines that magically derailed and hit a crossroads. That collision was the best thing that ever happened to me—”

  “Until the debris cleared and you had a decision to make, right? Is this your way of telling me you’ve made your choice?”

  His eyes are bloodshot. His hair disheveled. Shirt wrinkled. For the first time since I’ve known Zach, he looks lost and defeated. “I lose either way, right?”

  The pain in my chest is as real as it was that day I saw my father with his new family. This is it, all over again.

  “You’re doing it, Zach. The one thing you promised me you would never do. You’re making the same choice that he made. You’re breaking my heart.” I try to contain my shoulders from shaking and the panic in my chest, but it’s taken over my body.

  The tears begin to spill down my cheeks as he watches me with shock and pain. “How the hell did I break something that was never even mine to break?”

  “That’s cheap,” I spit out. “You’ve been trying to get me to fall in love with you for weeks, and then I do, and you act like it never even happened.” I push off the wall. Now it’s my turn to sound defeated. “Go home, Zach. The sooner you do, the sooner we can forget any of this ever happened.”

  I don’t know who should be mad at whom. I’m shaking when I leave Monica’s apartment, and I’m still shaking when I arrive at my Jeep. After talking myself out of going straight back to her place to dish it out some more, I force myself into the car and slam my fists into the wheel.

  That wasn’t what I wanted to say at all back there. The apology, yes. But then I was going to kiss the hell out of her and tell her that we had to make this work. I was going to tell her that I never expected her to come along and steal my heart, but she did. And I only ever wanted to protect her. Why didn’t I say any of that?

  The truth is, all my feelings from earlier today came tumbling back the moment I saw her face. But she didn’t give me a chance to make a choice. She lied. And now we’re left with the fallout.

  I hate myself for being the exact person she was trying to shield her heart from. That’s not me. She’s worth so much more than the way I’m making her feel right now. I should have stayed, forced her to talk to me.

  “God damn it!” My fist flies into the seat beside me, the cushion taking the impact of my blow. Even pissed off at the world I’m able to think about my throwing hand.

  A set of headlights appear, distracting me from my own head. When I see a couple through the front windshield, I look closer, recognizing Gavin’s truck. I take it as a sign.

  They both left, which means Monica’s alone. Without a second thought, I jump out of the Jeep and run back to her apartment. I use the code she entrusted me with when I was picking her up for our last date—the one that involved chocolate covered strawberries—to let myself into the main building, and then I jog upstairs to the second floor and knock on her door.

  Seconds later I hear footsteps and then silence. “Cakes, I can hear you. Let me in.”

  Silence. I wait.

  Finally, I hear the latch click. The door opens. Just one look at her puffy eyes and the tissue in her hand destroys me. I may not have been the one who initiated the pain, but I’m the one twisting the knife. This may be the end of me and Monica, but I’m not going down without a fight.

  I step inside and let the door shut behind me. We stand only a foot apart, but I make no move to touch her. Not yet. After a single deep breath, our fearful eyes gripping each other, I finally speak.

  “I choose you.” My voice cracks with every emotion that’s been building all day. “I’ll always choose you. But it’s not me that needs to make a choice. It’s you. Are you letting go or holding on? Your past can’t be your future too.”

  Her head moves back and forth, stubborn as hell. “I need time to sort this out, Zach. It’s too much right now. We haven’t even had time to think.”

  “What’s to think about? I want you in my life.” When she’s silent, I sigh again. “You don’t have to make any decisions tonight.” I move in, using both hands to tilt her head to look up at me. I press my lips to hers. They’re lacking some of that firmness that I love, so I deepen the kiss, feeling her come alive beneath my grip. She responds with a shudder. That’s when I finally pull away. “Give me a chance to leave you with a reason to choose your future. Choose me back.”

  Searching her eyes, I’m silently begging for her to say yes. She’s owned me from the second her eyes met mine above that dessert cart, but it’s time I take some of that control back. At least for tonight.

  She nods, and I give her no time to rethink her acceptance. My mouth is back on hers and I’m giving her everything I’ve got. Not a second later she’s kissing me too. We’re devouring each other, our hands in a frenzy, ripping off each other’s clothes. And as soon as our shields are cast aside, I carry her into her bedroom and lay her down gently, never taking my mouth from hers.

  We make love without uttering a single word. We don’t need to. Our connection grows more intense with each second that passes. There’s nothing rushed about tonight. We take our time, the pleasure as sweet as it is heartbreaking. She’s my world, and if I only have tonight to show her that, there will be no holding back.

  She lets me take complete control—something I need tonight. Maybe it’s my fear of losing her. Maybe it’s to show her that despite everything that’s happening, I can still love her deeply. And as much as I need to give, she needs to take. Tonight, she’s different. Tonight, she’s raw. Tonight, she’s completely mine.

  I’m aware of every breath and sound that passes her lips. Her moans only fuel my adrenaline. I’m attuned to every touch as her fingers skim the length of my back and then dig into my skin when the intensity becomes too much. And I know with each arch of her back that she needs my mouth where she can feel it reach her core. I read her like I read poetry: slowly, admirably, intensely, until I’m reading her all over again, because once is never enough.

  I give her everything I think she wants. Everything I know I need. But it will never be enough—not if I can’t have her forever.

  The training facility is quiet, but I know Coach is in his office. It’s where he can be found most days whether we have practice or not. He always says he thinks best when surrounded by the dream. It’s why he was there that day to break up the fight between Desmond and me. He was studying the next opponent, visualizing plays and preparing pep talks. Little did he know he would find two lost souls battling it out on the field.

  The door to his office is open, but I knock anyway. He stares off into the distance as if he’s in some sort of trance, and he doesn’t react to my approach.

  “Coach.”

  My voice makes him jump. He sits up, pulling his shoulders back as he addresses me a little too formally. “Zachary, this is unexpected.”

  Although we’re close, Coach Reynolds is the ultimate professional. Favoritism doesn’t exist in his world. It’s always about the team—when we’re at work. Everything changes when I’m stopping by for dinner or attending one of his daughters’ events. That’s when I take on the role of a family member, and life is just as it should be. Those are the moments that have always meant the most. The moments that replaced the deep tunnel of loneliness that swallowed me after my father’s death.


  “Sorry, Coach. I’m sure the last thing you want is another surprise.” I hesitate for a second and decide not to take a seat. I’m not in a cordial mood, and I’m not planning to stay.

  He lets out a breath—not a sigh or a laugh, just a breath. “I’m going to guess this visit is a personal one.”

  I nod, giving him complete honesty. “It is.” Except I don’t know how to start. There’s so much I want to ask. So much I want to say.

  I guess all I can do is start. “Nine years ago you saved me from a troubled life. From a hole so dark I didn’t think there was a way out. I’d lost hope. At sixteen, that darkness can set the precedent for the rest of your life, but you didn’t allow that to happen to me. You took me in. Gave me a team. Opened your home to me, and then to my brother and my mom. I’m forever grateful for those gifts, Coach. For the first time in a long time, I knew what a family was supposed to feel like.

  “I’ve looked up to you … in football, sure, but as a husband and father too. And I’m sorry, Sir, but a man who can leave his children without so much as a goodbye is neither of those things. Monica told me everything about her dad, and I judged him as someone I’d never met. I promised myself if I did ever meet him, I’d let him have it. So…” I swallow. “That’s what I’m doing now.”

  He stares back at me in silence. I see the heavy rise and fall of his chest, and know he’s calculating his response, but I don’t give him time. He needs to hear this.

  “You can see my predicament now, Coach. What you did to those girls was abandonment. It was cruel.” My voice is rising with my anger, and I’m not sure how to stop it. “Thanks to you, she may never open her heart to let anyone else in. Thanks to you, she’s broken ties with her family back in Texas to deal with her pain. Thanks to you, she learned what a broken heart was at the ripe age of fourteen. How does that make you feel, Coach? Do you sleep well at night, knowing what you did to them?”

  “That’s enough!” he shouts, slamming a fist on his desk.

  But it’s not enough. In the blink of an eye, this man I’ve looked up to for so long has suddenly become a stranger. A fraud.

  “You want to know what she remembers about you?”

  Coach stares back at me, face unchanging. I’ll take that as a yes.

  “She remembers the man who taught her how to throw a ball forty yards without breaking a sweat. She remembers her hero on and off the field. Someone she was so proud of. You know, she never lost hope that he’d find her one day.

  “Unfortunately, she also remembers the man who didn’t take a second glance in the rearview mirror when he drove off to start a new life. When you left, you ensured that no matter how hard a man loved her after that, she’d never believe it. And do you blame her? How could she ever trust any man after what you did?”

  My voice cracks and I take in a breath before continuing. “I don’t understand. You give everything to your team and to your family. Why not Monica and Maggie?”

  Coach looks unsettled as he takes short sips of air through his nose. “It wasn’t my choice to leave those girls, but I was damned sure I wouldn’t let anything like that happen again.”

  I let out an angry breath. “No choice? That’s what you’d call a cop out, Coach.”

  I can’t control the rage blasting through me now. This isn’t the man who taught me about integrity and honesty. This isn’t the man who forced me into a cold shower when I threatened to pummel Desmond for the second time after he tripped me on the field. This man has no integrity. This man is no leader. No role model. No coach.

  “Does Becky know? That you started another family while you already had one?”

  Coach stands and narrows his eyes at me, his face redder than I’ve ever seen it. “Of course Becky knows. There’s more to the story than meets the eye.”

  “So you didn’t sleep with Becky while you were married to Monica’s mother?” I’m disgusted that he would even try to lie at this point.

  “Look, Son—”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  He looks at me with surprise, then shakes his head. “You’ve already crossed the line by coming here. Take a step back.”

  “No, you crossed that line when you cheated on your wife and made countless people suffer for it. How could Becky even look at you after what you did? How could you live with yourself? Weren’t you even curious what would happen to your first family? My God.”

  “That’s enough, Zachary.”

  I can’t stop. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met!” I yell, because God damn it, he’s going to hear me. “She doesn’t even have to try. Did you know that? She’s good, Coach. So good. She’s the first one to lift someone up when they’re down, no matter what she’s going through. She’s selfless, and funny as hell too. Challenging in her own feisty way, but you better believe she’ll always treat you with respect. She’s brilliant and creative and the most inspiring person I’ve ever been around. Yet she’s so incredibly modest that she would never agree with anything I just said, but it’s all true.” I breathe deeply. “And you can take credit for none of it.”

  Coach is silent for a while. He’s not looking at me, but I’m watching him. I’m not sure if he’s trying to picture Monica as the person I just described, or if he just wants me to get the hell out of his office.

  “I understand you have a friendship with my daughter, but you are the last person I should be speaking to about all of this.” His voice is quiet. I’m taken aback when I read his expression now. Everything about him in this moment reminds me of Monica. The times her walls came down revealing everything she’s usually able to hide so well. Now Coach Reynolds’ mask is gone, and all that’s left is a broken man with unfinished business.

  Let’s just say I’m here for unfinished business.

  Monica’s words ring loudly in my head.

  “Well too bad, Sir. Because I’m involved now, whether you like it or not.”

  “And why is that?”

  My calming breath does nothing for my emotions. I stay silent instead.

  “Do you love her?”

  My eyes widen. “That’s not why I’m here.”

  “It isn’t?” He steps around his desk. “Then what are you doing here? I understand you have a personal relationship with my daughter and this is a trying time for all of us, but I still expect respect when you walk through that door.”

  My entire body is shaking. “That’s the problem, Coach. I’ve respected you for as long as I’ve known you because I thought you were someone else entirely. But who cares how I feel about you? I’m not the one who moved here to be close to a father who never wanted to know me in return.”

  His face loses color. “She moved here for me? Why?”

  I shake my head and let out an exhausted breath. “That’s probably a conversation you should have with your daughter.”

  He loses his edge as his anger transforms to fear, then to sadness, and finally to worry. “I’m not sure what I would say. Nothing can undo the past. We’ve lost so many years.”

  “And you’ll only lose more if you don’t start somewhere. You should go to her. Talk. Let her decide what happens next. At least give her that much.”

  I walk to the door. I’m done here. I’ll deal with my own pain separately. It’s insignificant compared to what Monica’s going through.

  When I first connected the dots as I watched Monica’s face unravel in front of her father, revealing all the hurt from years ago, my thoughts were selfish. Why didn’t she tell me? Why did it have to be him? Someone I looked up to as a Coach and even as a father figure. I felt as if my whole life was crashing down around me and everything I knew was a lie. I won’t make that mistake again.

  “Zach, wait.”

  I stop at the door without turning, my fingers gripping the frame, and wait.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  I glance at him over my shoulder. “I love her. Unfortunately, she can’t reci
procate those feelings. Not in the way I need her to. In her mind, she needs to let one of us go, and her choice was made long before she and I even met.”

  I turn back around, unable to look at him anymore. “I hope you do something with that information. The rest is up to you, Coach.”

  Calm washes over me by the time Monday morning comes. My secret is out. There’s nothing left to hide from Zach, and I saw my dad again. For the first time in nine years, he stared into my eyes and said my name. And while the next step would be to confront him with the questions that have riddled my soul for nearly a decade, it’s his move.

  I’m not sure what I expect as I walk into work this morning, but I’m caught off guard by the wide-eyed and muffled greetings I receive from my peers as I pass them in the hallway. Even Jess looks irritated at my arrival, which is bizarre considering every exchange before now between us has been more than pleasant.

  Knots tighten in my gut when I pass Gracie and Trinity talking in hushed giggly voices near the copy machine.

  Chloe comes out from her cubicle and when she sees me, her eyes widen too. She drags me down the hall to the production suite and into my office before anyone else can see me.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, my heart pounding in my throat.

  “Why haven’t you responded to any of my messages?”

  I shake my head. “I turned my phone off yesterday. I just needed some time to think without anyone bothering me.”

  Chloe looks pale. “Turn on your computer. It’s everywhere, Mon.”

  “What’s everywhere?”

  She sighs. “You and Zach. Your dad. All of it. There are even photos of you and Zach sneaking around camp. Monica, it’s bad. I’m so sorry.”

  She looks horrified as I push her aside and open my computer. Immediately, notification after notification pops up on my screen. There are messages, comments, friend requests, tagged photos, YouTube videos. After seeing one of the photos of Zach and me kissing in the woods, I push away from my desk and raise my hands to my face.