Page 87 of Broken Like This by Bethany

Experiencing sexual assault leaves you feeling isolated and scared. You often feel ashamed and don’t want to tell anyone. I get to be the person who shows someone they aren’t alone. I get to help them find a piece of their strength again. After the other night, I know this job won’t be easy, but every single day will be worth it.

Aaron

“You ready?” Joel asks me.

“Huh?”

Joel puts his hand on my shoulder as we walk into the athletic center, stopping me in my tracks. “It’s your first official day as the assistant pitching coach. Are you ready?”

I stand a little taller. “I’m ready.”

And nervous.

Yes, I’ve been working out with the team for the last two weeks. Yes, I’ve been working with the pitching coach and shadowing the former assistant pitching coach. But now I’m officially a coach. I’m going to be working with players one-on-one. A lot of times, they’ll be older than me. I’m barely nineteen. They don’t know me. They don’t trust me. I don’t blame them. But I know what the hell I’m talking about. Once they see that, it’s all I’ll need to prove myself.

Something powerful runs through my veins.Pride.I’m starting to feel more like myself again every day. But in a better way this time. I’m not the guy I was in high school. I’m stronger now. I’ve learned about what I want and don’t want. And even though I still have a lot to figure out, I’m going to do it. I’m Aaron freaking Cooper.

Nope. Sounds weird when I say it.

I walk into the locker room with Joel and a few heads turn. Then a few more. Joel gives me a smirk and walks to his locker. He already knows his place as a freshman on the team—basically, sit down and shut up, speak when spoken to—I might be a freshman, but I’m also a coach. They might not like it, but they’re going to learn to respect me. I’ve worked with middle schoolers before. If I can handle them, I can handle this.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Wilkinson andCoach,” one of the seniors mocks.

“Brady, shut your goddamn mouth or you’ll be running twice as long today,” Coach M says, walking in behind me.

As much as I want to, I don’t smile at that. I keep my lips pulled into a flat line and stare him down.

“Coach Cooper, with me,” Coach M says.

I follow him into his office.

“They’re gonna give you shit. Be ready for it. Don’t be afraid to make them run laps. Threaten them with play time. Whatever you like, really. It’s part of the fun of being a coach.” He gives me a little smirk. “Once you correct a throw or get them hitting the ball, they’ll shut up and sit down. With your eye, it won’t take long.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

He nods. “How’s the hand?”

I look down at my fingers and smile for the first time in a while. “Better. My grip is improving. The therapists here on campus are completely different from who I was seeing back home.”

He nods again. “Working with someone who specializes in sports injuries can make all the difference. All right, why don’t you go get them to the field? Remember, don’t take their crap.”

I give him the slightest nod and rise from my chair.

I swing the office door open and walk back into the locker room. As I take them all in, a hush falls over the room again.

I look over their faces.

“I don’t know why you’re all staring at me. Take your asses down to the field. Now. Let’s go.”

A junior, Eddie McGuire, steps up to me. He looks me up and down. “Did Coach give you a little pep talk? Help you put your big-boy panties on? Don’t think we haven’t heard about you. Guy who choked for all of his senior year of high school is here to teach us. I don’t fucking think so.”

I feel the heat of Joel’s eyes on me, but I don’t look away from Eddie. I have no idea if that’s what people are actually saying about me or if Eddie is trying to push my buttons, but I don’t feel any shame over how I played last year. I did the best I could with an ongoing injury. Yes, it sucked. Yes, I was mad. In some ways, I still am. I should’ve gotten help sooner. But I don’t regret how I broke my fingers. Punching Mike Thomas might be the most satisfying thing I’ve ever done. I definitely don’t have any regrets about how I played. I pushed through and fought harder than most of the assholes in this locker room ever had to.

“Actually, the guy who pitched his entire senior year with a broken hand is here to teach you, but that isn’t what matters. What matters is that I’m the coach. I told you to get out to the field. If I have to say it again, you won’t be running laps, you’ll be jeopardizing your playtime. For you juniors and seniors, you know what that means. I won’t hesitate, I’ll just do it. So, get out of my face and get your asses outside. Now.”

All the younger players are on their way out of the locker room. Joel gives me an affirming nod as he goes.

Eddie is still standing toe-to-toe with me when another senior walks over, tells him it isn’t worth it, and drags him away.

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