Page 19 of Not My Coach

Oh God, I know where she’s going with this. She is such a little brat.

“I’m so sorry that you are so stubborn that you walked away from that man without so much as his number.” She pauses. “Well, technically, you do know where he lives. We could probably wander back there if you want?—”

“Gracie, no, we are not stalking Nate,” I cut her off.

“Oh, Eves, you are no fun,” she whines, and I can practically see her lip pouting and face scowling.

“Shut up.” I laugh. “Ugh, I have to go. My mom’s calling me. My parents and I are going to grab lunch in a bit.”

“Bring me back something good,” she shouts into the phone before I accept my mom’s call and end hers.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Eve. Does noon still work for lunch?” she asks, getting straight to the point.

Nodding, I throw myself onto my bed, lying on my back in starfish formation with my phone on speaker.

“Works for me.” My stomach grumbles. I’m already hungry, just thinking about it.

“Okay, sweetie. Do you want us to pick you up?” she offers, and she already knows my answer.

“Yes, please.”

She knows, ten times out of ten, I would choose to be a passenger rather than a driver.

“I will text you when we are on our way. Should be leaving in about five minutes,” she sings. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom. See you soon. Mwah.” I blow a kiss at her through the phone.

“Ooh, I caught it! I caught it! Mwah!” She blows me a kiss back.

That’s so stupid, but I giggle anyway because it’s also adorable.

“Bye, Mom.” I end the call with a big smile on my face.

I love my parents. They are so supportive, and it took me longer than I would like to admit to realize just how incredible they really are.

Growing up, I assumed everyone had the same experiences I did. I imagined that they also spent their weekends camping, that they never had to question where the next meal was coming from, that their parents would tuck them in every night. It wasn’t until I was older that I recognized, unfortunately, my classmates weren’t as blessed as me.

Once that finally clicked in my brain, my perspective on life changed. I wanted to help the people around me that weren’t as fortunate. At some point, that desire to aid others guided me to become an elementary school teacher, where I could help vulnerable little kiddos.

Gracie and I both start teaching this fall in our first actual classrooms as full-time teachers. I’m teaching third grade, and Gracie is teaching kindergarten.

There will be rules for my classroom. Including that no student of mine will ever go without lunch. There will be a closet of necessities that they can take if they are in need of anything. Clothes, mittens, coats, school supplies, and snacks. I won’t be monitoring what leaves that closet, no matter if a student abuses it. Because even if one student truly needs something and can get it from my closet, then it’s all worth it.

My phone buzzes, and I lift it to my face and see it’s a text from my mom.

Mom: On our way.

I answer her immediately, convincing myself that I need to stay in bed for just one more minute.

Sounds good.

Maybe I’m not really that hungry, or maybe my bed just feels so comfy that it’s outweighing my need for food right now. Alas, my rumbling stomach wins the battle of wills, and I sit up, sliding off my bed.

This entire morning, I’ve just been lounging around our house in my PJs, and I imagine that wherever we are going for lunch that they have some bare minimum of a dress code. Stripping my oversize T-shirt and shorts off, I toss them in my hamper, catching a glimpse of the black dress that I wore just two nights ago.

God, that entire night feels like a dream. I think my brain can’t even wrap around what happened. I would say that my creative brain made the entire thing up, but my ass shows the proof. Nate’s roughness still covers my backside in little bruises.

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