Page 38 of The Keeper
“Coach,” Janice calls to Mack after inspecting me and prodding me for a moment.
Mack looks irritated as he gets closer, but I see his steps falter a little when he eyes the bruising that is already evident on my skin, as well as the other cuts and marks.
“I doubt that a rib has broken, but the cuts and bruising are pretty extensive. I want to see how she feels tomorrow before deciding whether she can play or not.”
My breath catches when I consider the idea of not playing in tomorrow’s game. My dad is coming to the game. How would he react if he manages to get there and I don’t even go on the field? Part of me wants to see the bastard as irate as can be, but the other still clings to the idea that watching me excel at something might make him proud. Or at the very least, keep me from incurring his wrath.
“I, uhm…” Mack starts but pauses. “… yeah, we can wait until tomorrow to decide.” And again, he turns and walks away abruptly.
Janice rolls her eyes and gives me a sweet smile.
“So moody, that one. Keep it iced today, alright? If you can keep the bruising at bay and you don’t swell up, I’ll feel better about the idea of you putting your body through the ringer tomorrow.”
“Thanks Janice,” I reply, half-heartedly. “Although, I won’t be too fussed if I can’t play tomorrow, so just make whatever decision you think is best.”
Janice frowns slightly, probably unsure that she heard me correctly when I’ve been a ‘total bad ass’ for the three and a half years she’s known me. I’ve had a few small injuries and have always fought tooth and nail to stay on the field.
“Since when is my best decision the decision you agree with?”
I shrug, but Janice keeps her eyes trained on me, waiting for a response. She’s always been pretty motherly with us, even though she’s only in her early thirties. My first year playing for Glendale was her first year with the men’s and women’s soccer teams, and she requested to stay with us instead of moving when it was time to rotate to football or basketball. I think she secretly loves the girls that started with me freshman year and wanted to see us all through our college careers.
Janice doesn’t know about my issues with my dad.
Well, not everything.
During my freshman year, I went home to pick up the last of my belongings on a day when I thought my dad would be at work.
He wasn’t.
Not only was he home, but he was absolutely plastered and ready to extract his rage wherever possible. When I returned to campus with a split lip and some extensive bruising on my torso, I was able to explain away the lip pretty easily. But my attempt to get changed after a game that week was another story.
I had taken my time until everyone started to head out to the bus, then tried to change my top really quickly. But Janice walked into the locker room and saw the shoe and fist marks that had begun to fade from deep purple to a yellowish green.
We talked for a few minutes about it, and I told her that the ‘problem’ wasn’t a part of my life anymore. It had been that trip home that solidified my decision to extricate him from my life as much as possible. Jeremy was thrilled that I cut ties, although he never knew about the physical abuse, or the horrible things that happened before I finally left.
He also didn’t know that I still called my dad every so often on holidays. He wouldn’t understand. Hell, I don’t even understand.
“Why don’t you want to play tomorrow?” Janice asks, sucking me back to the present and away from the drama I was constantly trying to leave behind.
When I don’t say anything, Janice leads me away from the game that’s coming to a close, and walks me to the athletic facility that houses her office. Once inside the athletic training room just off of the locker room, she turns to me with a concerned look on her face.
“Jeremy mentioned that your dad might be coming to the game tomorrow.”
I suck in a sharp breath. I’m sure the look on my face demonstrates my surprise that Janice is in contact with Jeremy. I know they’ve met before, but had no idea there was enough camaraderie that they would be sharing information.
“Since when do you talk to Jeremy about me?”
“We run at the same park,” she states nonchalantly.
“Why did my dad make it into the conversation? Jeremy hates talking about him.”
I can see that Janice is withholding something, but for the life of me can’t figure out what it is.
“You should talk to Jeremy about it. My point in bringing it up was just to tell you that I could put you on the injured list if you want me to. You don’t even have to travel with us if you don’t want to go down to San Diego.”
I glare at her.
“I don’t need anyone making assumptions about my life, Janice. If you think I can’t play, bench me. If I can, I’ll be on the field in my gear when the whistle blows.”
