Page 94 of Ready to Score

“‘Speech’?” She looked at Franny again. “What does he mean, ‘speech’?”

Her girlfriend grimaced. “I couldn’t talk him out of it. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not doing a speech, Francesca. You know I hate public speaking.”

“Let’s go talk to your folks, so you can distract yourself and just speak on the fly.”

Jade pouted but allowed herself to be pushed into her mother’s arms. She breathed in the fresh floral scent of her mother’s perfume, fighting back the urge to cry. She sniffed when she pulled back, going to hug her father, then Aja, and Miri last. Clinging on to her best friend like she was adrift with only a life raft.

“I can’t believe y’all kept this from me!”

Her father snorted. “Now what kind of surprise would it be if we’d told you about it?”

“One I could have prepared for,” she grumbled.

Miri pinched her on the arm. “It’s your special day. Be nice.”

“I know, I know. I’m just nervous, I guess. All this really wasn’t necessary.”

“It was, though, baby,” her mother said. “This is monumental. Let it be that. Let us celebrate you.”

Jade sucked in a deep breath, her eyes moving around her immediate vicinity as she took in some of the people she loved most in the world. It was overwhelming to see their faces, proud and joyous, and all for her. Shining eyes and lips curled up, each one of them seemed like they were actively restraining themselves from letting their excitement explode fully out of their bodies. In their defense, she was doing the exact same thing. Every time she sucked in air, her chest caved so much, she felt like her pounding heart would slam right through it. Every cell in her body felt activated. It wasn’t so much fight-or-flight as it was sheer elation on a level she’d never experienced before. Jade had thought she knew how this would feel, but she hadn’t. Not by a long shot. And now that she was in it, she barely knew how to act like a human, let alone convey her happiness.

As if sensing her overloading brain, Franny slid an arm around her waist. She was an anchor both literally and figuratively. Holding Jade up in more ways than one. Jade eyed her loved ones again.

“He’s going to make me give a speech.” Her voice was tiny when she spoke.

“You’ll be fine,” Miri tried to assure her. “Remember that DARE speech you gave junior year? You did great.”

“We literally had to smoke a joint before that speech.”

“Excuse me?” her mother asked.

Jade’s cheeks heated, but she pointedly ignored the older woman, hoping to avoid a lecture that was over a decade too late.

“I mean, we could…” Miri clutched her purse and pointed to the front door.

Jade considered it. Liquid courage had never meant much to her, but a little hazy courage had gotten her through a few of her tougher moments.

She sighed and shook her head. “I can’t be stoned with all these team parents here.”

“Andyourparents,” her father said mildly.

“Look, just parrot whatever he says,” Franny said. “Keep it short and sweet, say your thank-yous, and you’ll be done in a few seconds, okay?”

Jade nodded. A few seconds. She could do that. She could do almost anything for a few seconds. Take a needle in her gums, choke down liver and onions, even give a speech.

Thankfully, she had very little time to fixate on it further before the sound of Landry’s signature obnoxious whistle was ringing through the crowded space. He beckoned her over to the center with a big grin, and Jade waded through the crowd like she was on her way to the gallows. When she reached him, he slung an arm around her shoulders.

“Hey! Hey!” His voice carried loud and strong over the room without any help from a microphone. Within seconds, it was almost completely silent as the crowd turned their attention toward them.

Sweat started to bead at Jade’s hairline, taking its time as it slowly descended the sides of her face. She absolutely loathed public speaking. It was one thing to speak to a crowd of students or to put her coach face on and command her players—or even their parents. But staring out at a sea of people she knew so intimately made her feel downright queasy.

Jade put an arm around Landry’s waist, not to return his hug butto keep herself upright as sweat began to pool behind her weakening knees.

Landry was determined to keep going. “By now, everybody here knows that this season was my last as a Greenbelt football coach.” The crowd murmured. “Twenty years is a long time to spend anywhere, let alone coaching one team. But I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.”

He stopped suddenly and cleared his throat a few times. Jade looked up at him and saw his eyes blinking rapidly, shining under the big lights above them. As if she were a child watching her mother cry, her own eyes started to well up in response. In all the years she’d known the man, she’d seen him cry all of two times. Once, years ago, after the sudden and tragic death of one of the players on their team. And another, when she’d accidentally walked in on him watchingField of Dreamsin his office.

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