Coach Me

by Shanora Williams

  I look over my shoulder at Kendall, whose eyes are bright and cheerful. There’s a smile on her lips. It’s like she’s completely forgotten about what even happened with Torres and me. That or she’s doing a damn good job of pretending it doesn’t bother her. I’m sure it’s the former. Kendall doesn’t really care about certain situations unless they personally affect her.

  “Sure. We’ve never been to a party. That sounds fun.”

  “Fuck yes, so get ready! Janine snagged another bottle from Christa’s stash and we’re gonna take shots before we go.”

  Kendall clicks the door shut and I sigh. I don’t know what possessed me to say yes to a party. I hate parties, and I can’t imagine what a sorority party on a Tuesday night is going to be like.

  Regardless, I shuffle to the tiny closet space I have and rifle through it for something to wear. Maybe this party will do me some good—get me to forget about Torres for at least one night and get back to my regular self.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  This party is exactly how I imagined it would be. It’s loud inside from the booming music pouring out of the standing speakers and it’s dark as hell. Strobe lights are flickering from random places, which helps a little, but not much. People are dancing or singing or yelling. Some are playing flip cup, while others are playing beer pong.

  It’s so crowded that I feel claustrophobic.

  “This is great, right?” Janine yells in my ear over the music. I look at her and she’s rolling her eyes.

  I break out in a laugh. “That’s exactly how I’m feeling!” I shout.

  “I don’t know why I agreed to this!” she shouts over the music again. “I guess just to say I’ve been to a sorority party? I need something to tell my future grandkids!”

  I laugh. “Kendall clearly loves this!”

  Janine looks from me to Kendall who is at the flip cup table, competing with a group of football players. She’s currently beating all of them and they’re all trying to break her winning streak.

  I check my phone, as if a text will magically appear. Nothing.

  “Let’s go get a drink!” I say to Janine over the music.

  She nods and leads the way to the kitchen. We walk right past the punch bowl that has been tampered with since we got here and that Kendall warned us not to touch. Every time we came into the kitchen, someone was pouring a different kind of liquor into the bowl. I have a feeling it is now a disgusting concoction that will make you vomit as soon as you sip it.

  We pour ourselves some Coke and rum, and as I take a sip, I feel someone step close behind me. The person is pretty much glued to my back. I spin around, ready to snap at whoever it is taking up so much of my personal space, only to see that it’s Stephen.

  “Look at you at a party!” he says, laughing. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you at one.”

  I shrug and step away. I’m really not in the mood for him right now. “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Having fun?”

  “Meh.” I shrug and sip my drink.

  “I’m going to find Kendall!” Janine shouts and I so desperately want to reach out to her and make her stay with me, but instead I watch her walk away.

  Truth is, I ignored all of Stephen’s text messages over winter break. He kept trying to meet up, but I wasn’t in the mood for it. I thought he took the hint because in psychology class, he was flirting with some girl in my face but, apparently, he’s still after the chase.

  “So, what’s up? We haven’t hung out in a while,” Stephen states, running his fingers through his hair.

  “Yeah, I know. Track pre-season started and it’s gotten pretty busy for me.”

  “Oh, yeah, I know how that goes. We have our last game Friday. You should come.”

  “Hopefully we aren’t conditioning that night.”

  Stephen nods and takes a swig of his beer just as a beefy football player charges into the kitchen and rushes for Stephen. “Dude! Fucking flip cup tournament going on! Some chick who does hurdles is winning!”

  My phone vibrates and I lift it up and when I see the name on my screen, I swear my heart skips a beat.

  I place the cup down and unlock the phone immediately to read the message.

  Torres: Don’t be mad. Needed time to think. Let’s meet somewhere.

  Three little sentences and they make my smile like a lunatic. How can I be mad? He’s clearly been thinking about me too.

  I respond.

  Me: Place?

  Torres: It’s a little far from campus…

  Me: It’s fine. I’ll catch an Uber. Send the location.

  “So, you want to go upstairs?” Stephen asks, and for a moment I forget he’s standing right in front of me. I lock the screen of my phone and step back.

  “Actually, no. I think I’m going to get out of here.” I walk around the counter before he can stop me, because he loves doing that, and right now, I don’t have the patience. “It was nice seeing you!” I call out, and then I maneuver my way through the crowd and hurry for the front door.

  As soon as I’m outside, stepping past a couple who is heavily making out, I send Kendall a text and tell her I’ll meet her back at the apartment.

  A text comes in from Torres.

  Torres: Vito’s Lounge. It’s 21+ but I know the owner. He’ll let you in.

  I bite back a smile.

  Me: K. Coming

  As soon as I send it, I go to the Uber app and book one.

  I pull up to the place where Torres told me to meet him, Vito’s Lounge. It’s an all-brick building with a black and white sign on the front of it. The door is rimmed in a purple neon strip, as well as the windows. There is a bulky bouncer at the door, but there is no line, which doesn’t surprise me seeing as it’s a Tuesday night.

  I climb out of the car, thank the Uber driver, and then cross the street to get to the door.

  “Name?” the bouncer asks after I tell him I’m meeting someone.

  “Amber Lakes.”

  “A’ight. Cool.” He opens the door for me, and I can’t believe it’s so simple.

  I’ve never been inside a lounge before. This one looks nothing like it does on the outside. There are two bars on either side of the building and up ahead is a stage.

  A woman is up there now, singing a soulful jazz song. Sofas made of brown leather are on the main floor, round tables between them. There’s even a VIP section on the second level, but no one is there. It’s pretty vacant, but it makes it easy to find Torres.

  He’s seated on one of the sofas, watching the woman sing. His arm is resting on the arm rest of the sofa and clutched in his hand is a short glass I’m sure has liquor in it.

  I weave my way through the lounge until I’m standing in the section Torres is in. He notices me and turns his head, and when he sees me, there’s a flash of relief in his eyes.

  “Hey,” I murmur.

  He sets the glass down on the table in front of him and sits forward. “Hey.” He pats the spot beside him, and I walk over with a smile to sit.

  “Why are you all dressed up?” he asks, taking notice of my silver dress and boots. I even did my hair for the party. Two little pom poms on my head.

  “I was at a party with Kendall and Janine.”

  “A party? Really?” He looks amused. “Was the player quarterback at that party?”

  I nod and laugh.

  “Yeah, I bet he was. You talked to him?”

  “For, like, five minutes. Then you texted me and I left.”

  “Dropped him for me.” He smirks and reaches for his drink. “I suppose I can forgive that.”

  I giggle, and then look up at the stage at the woman who is singing a new song. My eyes shift back over to Torres who has drained his glass. “Where have you been?” I ask in a soft voice.

  He sighs before saying, “Just needed a few days to myself.”

  “Why?”

  He avoids my eyes, swirling the ice in his cup. He’s quiet a beat.

  And another.

  “
Monday was the anniversary of my father’s death. January 26th.”

  “Oh. Oh, my God, Torres, I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t know—”

  He places a hand on top of mine, and I clamp my mouth shut. There’s a smile on his lips. “It’s fine, preciosa.” He adjusts himself on the sofa and I have this sudden urge to hug him or say something meaningful, but what do I say? I know what it’s like losing a parent and it’s not really something you want to sit and talk about so much, especially not around the time of the anniversary.

  Torres points to the woman on stage. “That woman sang at my father’s funeral.”

  “Really?” I focus on her. She’s wearing a sleek eggplant purple dress, her dark hair in rich waves, and lots of highlighter on her cheek bones, but it looks good on her beneath the spotlight. I’d say she’s singing the blues right now.

  “Yep. She was a good friend of my dad’s. Maria Loiza is her name. She’s married to one of his friends. She sings here every Tuesday night.” He pauses. “Hearing her sing makes me feel closer to him somehow.”

  I nod in understanding and we both remain quiet while she finishes her song. When she’s done, Torres applauds, and I do the same and she bows her head graciously. More people file into the lounge just as she begins singing a more upbeat song and the band plays along.

  “So, your dad trained you growing up?” Torres asks, and as soon as he mentions my father, I whip my head to stare at him.

  “Uh…yeah,” I say hesitantly. “He did. He was my coach for thirteen years.”

  “Was he tough on you?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I laugh, remembering my training with him. “Super tough. He used to work me until I was bone tired.”

  Torres chuckles and raises an arm, resting it on the top of the sofa behind me. I take comfort in that, and instinctively move closer to him. My arm is pressed to the side of his body now.

  “I got into running because of my dad too,” he tells me.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yep. When I was a kid, he signed me up for football. I was a receiver, and I wasn’t all that great at catching, but I was fast. He noticed and signed me up for track leagues instead. He was at every practice, every track meet. Sometimes he’d leave straight from work just to make it to my meets on time.”

  “Aww. That’s really sweet, Torres.”

  He nods and his smile slowly disappears. “I think I wanted to see you tonight because I’m realizing that I haven’t connected with anyone like I’ve connected with you since he passed away.”

  I hold his gaze. His eyes are sincere, and a little glossy, like he’s on the verge of crying. It breaks my heart so bad.

  “Shit, I know that sounds crazy,” he adds, and then waves a dismissive hand. “I’ve clearly been drinking too much.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” I grab his hand to stop it from waving. “Don’t do that. It doesn’t sound crazy. You’re expressing yourself and there’s nothing wrong with that. I’d love if you could elaborate.”

  He sighs and puts his focus on Maria Loiza. He’s quiet for a beat. “When I found out your father trained you, and then he died, I felt a connection to that story. Then, when I saw you at Bennett, being the only black girl on the team, it was all just so…instant. I immediately wanted to take you under my wing because I know how cruel this world can be, and I know how ignorant people at Bennett are.” His throat bobs as he swallows. “The shit with Howard made it real, I suppose.”

  I flinch at the thought of my rolled ankle. He drops the arm that’s on top of the couch and wraps it around my shoulders.

  “I saw that pain in your eyes after it happened—saw how badly you wanted to give up, and I remembered that feeling. The feeling of wanting to give up. Feeling like I didn’t deserve what life was giving me. Feeling like I wasn’t respected because of the color of my skin.” He inhales, then exhales and his eyes drop to mine as Maria’s voice sings a sweet melody. “Maybe it’s all in my head, but when I see you, and when I think about you, Lakes, something about it just feels right. And I know you’re a student at the school and I’m a coach and the last person I should be feeling so connected to is one of my athletes but…I can’t deny this feeling anymore. I can’t sit here and pretend that I don’t think about you every day, or that I don’t wish I could spend more time with you—time that isn’t illicit or hidden or kept secret.”

  I nod, my vision now blurry, and my heart racing.

  “But…then reality comes back, and I know that I can’t risk your future or mine. There is a fifty-nine-year-old woman who depends on me and my income and I promised I wouldn’t let her down, so we have to be careful.”

  “Yeah.” I bob my head. “We do have to be more careful. And we will. I don’t want you to lose your job because of me, Joaquin. Maybe we should establish some rules—set the boundaries so we know what and what not to do.”

  “Yeah. We can do that. What do you have in mind?”

  “Well, I was thinking maybe we don’t do anything on campus at all. It’s not safe, and we learned that after what happened with Kendall. Even in the dark, we can be noticed.”

  He nods and smirks. “True.”

  “But…if not on campus, I’m not sure where else we can be together…”

  He thinks on it, but only for a few seconds. “My apartment. It’s twenty minutes away from campus. When you have the time, we can meet.”

  “For real?” I smile way too hard for my own good.

  He cracks a smile too. “For real, for real.”

  I giggle. “I think I’d love that. If I didn’t have class in the morning, I’d tell you to take me there right now.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you have class in the morning because my place is a mess and I’d need to prepare.” He smirks and I bump him lightly with my shoulder. “Let me take you home,” he offers. “It’s getting late.”

  “Yeah. That would be great.” He stands and I get up with him. He walks between the sofas and tables and as we pass one of the bars, he waves at a guy behind it. The guy is in a gray suit and I assume he’s the owner. He shoots Torres a wave and then we’re out the door.

  THIRTY-NINE

  “Will you be at practice tomorrow? I seriously don’t think I can take another day of Foster’s shit.” Amber unclips her seatbelt and locks her eyes on me. We’re parked in front of Amber’s building. I made sure to park near the edge of the parking lot, out of the light so no one can see us together.

  “I’ll be there tomorrow. Don’t worry. I’m surprised Hamilton set you up with Foster, though. I figured she’d at least take over for me.”

  “She seemed really busy with the hurdlers and with some work she was doing in her office.”

  “Oh, yeah. Season is starting. More paperwork for her.” I rest the back of my head on the headrest.

  “Well, I’m glad we got to see each other tonight,” she murmurs.

  “I’m glad too.”

  “Just make sure you clean your apartment so I can come over soon,” she teases.

  I laugh. “I’ll do my best, preciosa.”

  “Cool.” Leaning over the middle console, she palms the right side of my face. She kisses me firm and deep, and I groan, lifting a hand and reaching around to cup her ass.

  She breaks the kiss and starts to pull away, but I catch her arm and reel her back in, wrapping my palm around the nape of her neck and stealing another taste of her lips.

  Everything I said at Vito’s is true. I feel a connection with Amber that I have never felt before. I don’t know if it’s because our pasts are similar, or because we both have the same passion when it comes to running, but there is something here between us. It’s powerful and all-consuming. We’re like magnets, her and I. I can never seem to pull away from her when she’s close.

  Those days I took off, I thought I’d be able to stop thinking about her if I didn’t see her. It was such a close call with Ramirez, it spooked me…but there was no way in hell I could get Amber off my mind. She sent me text messages, c
alled me, and it took everything in me to not respond. Grief and confusion never treated me well. I knew to spare her feelings, I needed to take some time to let my emotions settle.

  Amber moans when I stop the kiss, and I drop one last caress on her bottom lip. When I let her go, she sighs dreamily as she moves away and slouches in the seat.

  “Man…I really wish I didn’t have class in the morning,” she breathes.

  A laugh breaks out of me. “Go on. Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Kay.” She’s having a hard time not smiling right now and it’s adorable as hell. Gripping the door handle, she finally pushes out of my car and when the door closes, she leans down to wave goodbye behind the window.

  I wave back and then watch her walk to the building, making sure she gets inside safely.

  It's a lot easier to be at practice with Amber now that we’ve established some boundaries. She focuses on practicing and I focus on coaching, just like we did before. Of course, there are the not-so-subtle looks we pass to each other during the breaks, but that’s bound to happen for us.

  The season has officially started and we’re having meets every weekend and Amber is killing it. She wins every single one of her races and is definitely not disappointing anyone.

  Hamilton loves the attention she’s bringing to the school. Several reporters have shown up to ask about Amber’s stats and about her story in general, which I find interesting…but of course there’s always that rotten egg who has to ruin everything.

  Howard doesn’t like the attention Amber is getting, and it’s even worse when Hamilton appoints Amber as team captain for the year. I don’t miss the incredulous look on Howard’s face when it’s announced after practice one day. Amber is over the moon and all the girls are excited for her—all the girls except Melanie, Christa, and Katie.