“I’m not sad,” I lied, standing from my desk. “What in the world would I have to be sad about?”
“You tell me, Coach.”
His sincerity kept me from coming up with some witty remark. That, and my mind was still beating me up for calling him a bad guy the day prior. Yet there he was, Mr. “Bad Guy.” The only one who could read my truths when the rest of the world seemed addicted to my misprints.
My lips slightly parted, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I was sad. Instead, I said, “I’m sorry.”
He arched an eyebrow, perplexed. “For what?”
“Calling you a bad person. I don’t think that about you.”
His head tilted, and he walked over toward me. He placed a hand on my forehead.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Checking if you have a fever. You’re speaking delusionally.”
I shoved his hand away from my forehead. “I’m serious, Nathan. I haven’t been fair to you, and I’ve made rude judgments. I guess the inner teenager in me still held a bit of resentment toward you, and I apologize for that. You didn’t deserve it.Truthfully, it was easier to call you a bad person than to face the reality of the situation.”
“And what’s the reality of the situation at hand?”
“That you’re…good.”
Which he was.
Maybe that bothered me the most—that he was a good person. A great person, even. Not only with me but with everyone he crossed paths with. Nathan made people feel seen and took his time to converse with anyone who approached him. He had a kind smile that made others grin themselves. He was respectable and humble, and a damn good coach, too. He was one of the good guys.
And that pissed me off because it was just a reminder of why I liked him so much all those years ago.
It was easier for me to hate him. When I hated him, my heart didn’t feel so conflicted.
His joking manner settled into a serious look. “You really think I’m good?”
“I do.”
“Then why have you been so hard on me? Because of our past?”
“Yes,” I confessed. “And I’m a stubborn jerk.”
“Or you’re just someone who feels a lot and keeps it all to themselves. Either or.”
“I like the idea of stubborn jerk. It has less emotions.”
He smiled.
I liked it, too.
Damn me for liking it.
“Are you sure you’re good, though?” he asked. “Coach to coach, I mean.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m just a little overwhelmed with the wedding.”
“Oh, right.” It could’ve been my imagination, but I swearNathan grimaced at the mention of the wedding. “That’s right around the corner, right?”
“Yes. Two weeks from today.”
“Wow…” He cleared his throat. “That’s a lot.”