Page 51 of The Perfect Pass
“You’re correct about one thing—my employment can be terminated mid-season.” Jackson smiled. “But only in the event of a loss.”
Calla had said it herself back when he’d first invited her to attend team practices.
If the team loses a single game, you’re out. You know that, right? They’ll see to it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s written into your contract.
He owed her just as much gratitude as he owed the dog. They’d taught him to pay attention to the fine print. They’dsavedhim…
For the time being, at least.
“As I’m sure everyone here is aware, the Bulldogs are undefeated.” He shrugged. “Looks like you’re all stuck with me.”
A heavy silence fell over the conference table. Jackson was right, and he suspected they all knew it. They just never expected him to care about the team enough to call their bluff. They thought he’d throw up his hands and walk away, more than happy to go back to his life as a professional player.
The thing was, he didn’t even blame them. If this had happened at the start of the season, that’s exactly what he would’ve done. He’d have seized onto any reason he could find to put this football-crazed town and their ridiculous expectations behind him.
But that’s not who Jackson was anymore. He wasn’t the same person he’d been back then. Whether they realized itor not, he was different now. He was a Bulldog. The team was a part of him now, and vice versa.
“I wouldn’t look so smug if I were you, Coach Knight. You may have bought yourself another two weeks on this team, but your days in Bishop Falls are numbered. If you think you can beat Rustwood without our three best players, you’re fooling yourself.”
Jackson stood. He didn’t have time for any more of this nonsensical back-and-forth. He had a team to coach.
“Watch me.”
* * *
Word of the player suspensions spread through Bishop Falls like wildfire. Calla had been sitting in theGazette’s regular Monday-morning staff meeting when her phone started blowing up, vibrating like mad in the pocket of her jean jacket.
It had taken every ounce of willpower she possessed not to check her text messages in the middle of Stan’s lecture about proper fact-checking protocols, spurred in part by a story that had recently been published about Mayor Pearl’s lost cat. The feline in question had been inaccurately identified as a Persian when it was, in fact, a Ragdoll. She didn’t dare, though. Pulling out a phone in the middle of a meeting was one of Stan’s biggest pet peeves, second only to typos… .
And possibly one of his reporters developing romantic feelings toward the subject of her column, but Calla was trying not to think about that.
A quick scan through her messages once the meeting was over told her all she needed to know: Jackson had actually done it. He’d suspended the boys behind the hazing attack for the remainder of the season, and somehow, he’dstill managed to hang on to his job. Calla could scarcely believe it.
Against her better judgment, she fired off an immediate text to the miracle-worker himself.
Nicely done.She added a football emoji, and then chewed on her bottom lip for a full two seconds before writing more.Seriously, Jackson. The Bulldogs are lucky to have you.
Then, before she did something utterly stupid like tacking on a kissy face emoji, she placed her cell phone inside her desk drawer and slammed it shut until she left for football practice later that afternoon.
Right off the bat, she sensed the training session wasn’t going to go as seamlessly as it normally did. The players moved like their feet were stuck in molasses. No one seemed to want to cover the positions that had been vacated by the star players who’d been kicked off the team. With every missed catch and fumbled snap, the set of Jackson’s jaw grew more and more tense. Bob Simmons’s whistle cut through the air repeatedly, sharp and relentless, until Jackson said a few terse words to him that she couldn’t quite catch.
By the end of the two-hour workout, the team appeared to be more defeated than determined. Shoulders slumped as the teens made their way to the locker room. Even the coaches seemed eager to get off the field and put an end to the misery, except for Jackson and Cade, engaged in a deep conversation in the end zone.
Ordinarily, Calla would’ve packed up and headed home, but the situation seemed pretty dire. Whenever Ethan had a bad practice back in high school, Dad would declare a pizza night. They’d get takeout from the best pizza place in townand eat it at one of the picnic tables in the town green while fireflies danced on the horizon and the stars shone bright overhead. Pizza had been Calla’s favorite food ever since.
She made a quick trip to Bulldog Avenue and managed to get back to the stadium just in time. Cade waved to her as he headed toward the locker room and she waved back, stomach tumbling as Jackson redirected his steps in her direction.
When he reached the bleachers, he shielded his eyes with his hands, squinting against the sunset. “Since when did you become the type to stick around after the final whistle, Calla Dunne?”
His mouth curved into a smile, and for the first time since he’d taken his place on the field, he looked somewhat relaxed.
Staying had been the right call. So had the pizza. The poor guy needed a little moral support, that’s all. She could be Jackson’s friend and still write about his team.
Sure, because that’s all you want from this principled hunk of a man: friendship.
Calla’s heart gave an undeniable flutter. This had all been so much easier when she thought Jackson was the same person the press portrayed him to be. Her first impression of him on the day of the welcome parade had really sealed the deal. The absolute last thing she’d expected was to fall for the new football coach.
But that had all been a ruse, hadn’t it? He’d pulled the rug right out from under her before she’d even realized what was happening. First, he’d gone and made her start caring about the sport again, thanks to the tender way he talked to her about her brother’s legacy and that wildly exciting third quarter in the first game of the season. Then he’ddoubled down and reminded her how much fun tossing the ball around could be on Halloween night. Imagine her mortification when she’d realized she might actuallylikethe game she’d been so intent on loathing for so long.
