Page 108 of Love me, Maddie Mendoza

I didn’t have to elaborate much. Matt and I worked together for long enough for him to understand my half words. Brown was a new addition to the team. He was bound to be intimidated by a team who had played for years together. But there was no place for fear in the game, especially so deep into the season.

We talked a little more as I watched the practice. I saw it with fresh eyes that Matt appreciated. He wasn’t afraid to call me and ask my opinion, showing anyone he wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated. That kind of confidence translated easily into leadership.

I revised their workout like I promised to do. The coaching staff handled that aspect, but they were busy and more often than not, it turned into one size fits all situation. I was ready to go when I heard the huff of my old coach from the baseline.

“King, a word, please.”

Matt waved goodbye as he got into the game and I jogged toward Coach Ford. He was dressed in his usual uniform of sweats and Statham t-shirt, his arms crossed over his barrel chest with a perpetual frown between his brows. He was the youngest coach Statham basketball team ever had. I played under his leadership, I respected the shit out of him.

“What’s up, coach?”

He jerked his head towards the bench, and I took a seat with him by my side, both of us looking out to the court as the game continued.

“I don’t like beating around the bush, King. I know Carmichael is asking your advice a lot this season.”

I nodded. I wasn’t going to lie, nor throw Matt under the bus. “Loads of new blood, coach. He’s smart, and knowledge is everything. He’s doing good by the team.”

Coach huffed. Snarled maybe? It was hard to know with him.

“And you have the knowledge.” It almost sounded like mockery.

I shrugged. “Two heads think better than one.”

Coach’s eyes narrowed as he looked beyond my face. He barked directions to the players. “There’s a position with the team,” he said. “You major is Exercise Physiology, isn’t it?”

My mouth felt dry as I confirmed.

“You can work with the whole team instead of just with Carmichael. And Lukas needs help in the recovery room, too.” He added, talking about the Statham’s physiotherapist. He was supposed to give support to all teams, so of course, he was overworked.

“I’m not a physiotherapist.” I argued for no good reason.

“No shit.” He mocked. “Lukas was the one who suggested you. He overheard a few players using your workout routine. Trading your tips.”

Good to know someone was appreciating my work. How would they react if they knew my new workout routine was to run until I couldn’t think of Maddie anymore? Not as professional as everyone seemed to think.

“You want to hire me?” I asked, still confused.

“No,” he said. “The whole damn department does. But I’m not dumb, King. Your injury was bullshit. You were supposed to go far and…shit happens, but you live and breathe this. Your place is here.”

I felt the fire again. Burning in the middle of my chest. A purpose. Something that I never thought I was going to get back.

“Do you want to know how much it pays?” Coach chuckled. “Because you’re looking like you’re saying yes, regardless. You can hassle us a little, King. It’s only right.”

I laughed. He was right. My mouth was ready to say yes. Coach tsked. “Come Monday to the office and we’ll talk details.”

I nodded and stood up. The team was finishing up, packing away, and heading to the showers.

“Good work, King.” I felt the prickling of my skin. A full year since I last heard that praise.

Shit, I was about to weep like a baby.

Coach returned to his office, leaving me looking at the empty court. I jogged to the side, grabbing a basketball from the shelves and bouncing it. I closed my eyes. The only sound was coming from the ball bouncing off the floor. It was the familiar noise I loved so much. If I was a sound, that’s what I’d be.

I aimed for the hoop and didn’t care I missed it. I was relaxed, more than ever, so I kept going. From right to left, bouncing away and the second time I tried, it went perfectly in.

I smiled. All was right, and then the gymnasium door opened and Maddie stood there looking straight at me.

Just watching her was enough to kill me a little. The ball bounced away between us; the sound mashing together with the slap from her flip-flops. She was wearing a Statham University t-shirt, denim shorts, and her hair in two French braids.

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