Page 79 of Heartbreaker
I lean down to kiss her cheek, and she wraps her bony arms around me the best she can. “Is Mom here?”
“Yes, yes, come in. She’s in the kitchen.” My grandmother takes two small steps to the side and ushers me in. I kick my shoes off on the black mat where I recognize two pairs of snow boots, alongside an unknown third. They’re bright pink with white fur around the top and white pom poms dangling from the strings. Good thing Amos never saw those, or they definitely would’ve made their way down to the ring whenSavvy Skyewas still in her peppy cheerleader gimmick.
Mom’s voice rings out from deeper inside the house, a hint of worry tacked on the end as she calls out for her own mother. Seconds later, she appears in the hallway from the direction leading to the kitchen. “There you are, what are you—Oh, Brooks.” Her eyes narrow, looking between us. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t take that tone with him, Debbie. If my grandson wants to stop by, he’s more than welcome.” Grandma Aggie pats my arm. “Hush,” she snaps when Mom begins to argue, turning back to me. “Now, sweetie, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I need to speak with Mom,” I say, and her glare softens slightly. “It shouldn’t be too long. I have to get back home for a meeting with Xander at the training center.” That and I don’t plan on being here any longer than necessary, especially after this conversation.
My grandmother looks between us before a smile creeps up on her face. “How about I make some tea?” Before I can decline the offer, Mom does it for me. No doubt she’s worried about my grandmother handling it alone, not that I blame her. Ari told me Grandma Aggie forgot she was cooking a few weeks ago and left the stove unattended for God knows how long before the in-home assistant woke up. “I’ll have Anna help me,” Grandma Aggie says, waving us off as she rounds the corner.
It’s quiet for longer than is comfortable. The only sound is thetick-tick-tickof the clock on the brown paneled wall, and Grandma Aggie shuffling around the kitchen. Mom still stands in the hallway, arms folded tightly over her chest. “What is this about, Brooks?”
“I, uh…I think it’s time we have a conversation about everything.”
“I’m not sure I know whateverythingis, but if this is about Thanksgiving and you blaming me for Savannah leaving—”
“Don’t,” I say, and force my jaw to unclench. “Don’t bring her into this. I know you had your issues with her, for whatever reason, but that’s a conversation for another time. This isn’t about her. This is about you and me.”
“Hannah!” My voice carries across the open field, bringing a sudden halt to everything. All eyes turn my way as I walk onto the field from the parking lot. I’d been running ten minutes late and asked Jana to start practice, but from the looks of it, my assistant coach was too busy gossiping with two of the high school girls to do so properly. I’m not sure what a twenty-something woman has in common with high schoolers, but apparently, today that commonality was more important than watching my fucking practice.
Hannah—a senior and veteran of the squad who thinks she’s God’s gift to cheerleading—stands front and center, chin held high. She’s putting up a front for the others, but I’ve seen the look in her eyes enough times in and out of the ring to know that sheknowsshe just came within inches of a career-ending injury.
“I have half a mind to kick you off the damn squad right now,” I say.
Hannah is someone who likes to push the limits, to see just how far she can go, and then reel back at the very last minute. But she’s never done anythingthisstupid—not in front of me, anyway. Despite some of the other squad members expressing their concerns, I’ve never caught her acting up, and supposedly neither had Jana. Now I’m starting to wonder if that was a lack of attempt on Hannah’s part or a lack of attention on Jana’s when I wasn’t around. There’s been a handful of complaints brought to my attention over the last month, insinuating that Hannah has been wobbling her ankle on purpose in the middle of a liberty, over-exaggerating her movements when setting up stunts, and pretending to fall too early to mess with her bases…to name a few.
But today I finally witnessed it myself.
As she prepared to dismount, I watched as she twisted mid-air when she should’ve fallen back into a basic cradle, and her bases weren’t prepared. The group landed in a twisted mess of limbs, and she came within inches of landing neck-first into the turf. Thus, the reason for the scared look in her eyes.
“I was just messing around. It’s not that serious.” Hannah scoffs, trying to maintain some dignity.
“Not that serious?” A fire flares in my chest. “You almost broke your damn neck. You think that because you’re the captain and one of the more experienced girls, that means you can do whatever you want. Trust me, Hannah, even the best get injured. I’ve seen it happen more times than you can count, and not everyone is lucky enough to come back.”
“Oh, you mean like your ex-boyfriend?” the blonde teenager quips, rolling her eyes, and I hear more than a few gasps from behind her.
Hannah and I have had a complicated relationship since I took over as head cheerleading coach at the high school my first summer back home. Hannah was moving from her sophomore to junior year and was most likely to be voted captain, which gave her a big head. I wasn’t impressed with the teacher’s pet act, and when she realized sucking up wasn’t going to get her anywhere—with me, at least—her attitude did a complete one-eighty.
“That’s it, you’re suspended,” I say.
“What?” Her face falls. “Coach, you can’t do that!”
“I just did.”
Hannah looks around at her squad, but every single one of them avoids eye contact. “Jana,” she pleads, but my assistant coach shrugs. “This is bullshit. I’m going to make sure that my father hears about this.”
“Great. Have him give me a call, and we’ll discuss how I kept his daughter from ending up in a wheelchair.”
“I am so sorry,” Jana says.
Hannah storms past us, mumbling under her breath. Something along the lines of:I’ll have your job for this. I roll my eyes. One day she’ll thank me for this. Maybe.
“The girls had asked me a question about tryouts for next year, and I got distracted. I know it’s not an excuse. I’m sorry.”
“Jana, the next time I ask you to lead practice,” I say, and turn to look her dead in the eye. “I expect you tolead, not hand it off to a teenage girl with an attitude problem and an ego the size of Texas.” I don’t wait for her response, turning back to the rest of the squad members, who have a new pep in their step as they form a half circle in front of me. “If anyone else here thinks they are bigger than this squad or thinks they can perform stupid stunts without consequences, now is the time to leave. I will not have any of you getting hurt on my watch because you think it won’t happen to you. It can, it will, and it has. I’ve seen it happen, and I don’t want that for any of you. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Coach,” they say in unison.
