Page 78 of Ready to Score

The first day of classes went as smoothly as it could possibly go. There had been no fights and minimal tears, which counted as a win for Franny. By the time school was over, she was knock-down, drag-out exhausted. And by the time she made her way from cleaning up her classroom to the football field for afternoon practice, she wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed.

Jade slipped her a prebottled iced coffee and a wink as Franny slunk by her to join Carr and the O-line boys.

“We thinking barrel drills today, Coach?”

The boys had been solid with their hits recently. Their strength training and speed were coming in strong, but there were a few who needed more practice on staying in control while they were on the line. Barrel drills would help show them how to keep the right center of gravity needed to maintain speed without losing control.

“I’m thinking exactly what you’re thinking, Coach,” Carr answered.

She rolled her eyes, watching out the corner of her eye as Carr parked his behind in the folding chair he had on the sidelines and started reading the day’s paper.

“I’m not a coach,” she mumbled, thinking there was no way he could hear her.

“We’ll see if that’s still true in a few days, I guess,” he said, chuckling.

Franny rallied the boys without a whistle, getting one of the seniors to set up the barrels while she explained the drill to the kids. It wasn’t a new one for them, but it never hurt to reiterate, in her opinion. Nor did it hurt to get out there and show them with her own body how they might go about getting the desired result.

She watched them with a scrutinizing eye, arms crossed, trying to find points of correction in their forms. Every now and again, she’d interrupt the drill to show one of them how to reposition their hips or straighten their stance.

Twenty minutes in, she called for a break, slapping the boys on their heaving backs while they all lined up for the watercooler.

She lifted her own water bottle to her mouth, using the guise of drinking to take an actual look downfield at where Jade was watching her D-line do hand-fighting drills. A tactical way of play fightingthat would help defensive players keep the offensive players’ hands off their bodies.

Franny swiped the back of her hand across her forehead. The sun was relentless today, and she had forgotten to bring a change of clothes for practice. So she stood there in a pair of full-legged dungarees with suns and moons printed all over them and a T-shirt underneath. The air conditioner in the building was strong enough that she likely would have been cold in any fewer clothes, but it made for a brutal time out on the field. So much so that she reached down to cuff the hem of her dungarees a few times in hopes that an errant breeze might sweep across her ankles and cool her off.

Jade had not been so forgetful. In fact, she’d even made quite the departure from her normal khaki shorts and coaching polo and was fitted out in an old Greenbelt T-shirt and a pair of white running shorts that showed off her long legs. She was completely homed in on what was happening in front of her, those keen eyes watching, using her whistle every time she needed to correct someone or something.

Her D-line was in tip-top shape too, focused and strong. It was clear that Jade’s word was complete and total law. Not just because she’d ordained it as such but because she’d earned the right for it to be.

Franny always loved watching her like this—in her element. As stern as she looked, as seriously as she took her job, her love for it was impossible to hide. Something special came over her every time she stepped out on the field. Franny found it indescribable, intangible. If there was a name for it, she didn’t know what it was, but recognizing the spark in Jade’s eyes was becoming easier for her by the day.

She made no attempts to keep herself from staring, not even when Jade blew her whistle and released her players for their water break. Almost as if she sensed she was being watched, she looked down the field, catching Franny’s eye in a blink and flashing her one of those shy smiles of hers.

They started walking toward each other at the same time. They met on the sidelines, somewhere in the middle, and Franny had to shove her hands in the front pockets of her overalls to keep from reaching out to Jade. She hadn’t gone this long without touching the other woman in days, and the withdrawal was brutal. The two women stood side by side, both facing the field. Franny with her hands tucked away and Jade with her arms crossed.

“I think we’re going to take it,” Franny remarked.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. They’re strong, and they want it.”

“That might not be enough,” Jade said, facing ahead and squinting.

“No, I can feel it. Not just about this game either but the whole season. It feels like something is building.”

“That could just be indigestion from the leftover pizza we had this morning.”

“You don’t have to believe me, Dunn.” Franny laughed. “But I think luck is on our side.”

“I sure as hell want you to be right,” Jade admitted. “It’s impossible to say, though. The last time I talked to Landry, he told me that I needed to work on looking at the big picture.”

“Is this team having a good seasonnotthe bigger picture?”

“No, it is. But winning the first game isn’t. Neither is harping on luck, unfortunately.”

Franny nodded, conceding to her point. “I guess that’s why you’re the one in charge.”

“The only place I’m in charge is when it’s time to choose what we’re going to have for dinner,” Jade said quietly, out the side of her mouth.

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