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Coach Warren
Lucy opened her laptop and almost choked on her coffee.
Ms. Warren,
With Coach Sanders retiring at the end of the semester, we’d like to offer you the position of girls’ basketball coach. Given the leadership you’ve demonstrated this year, both in your classroom and beyond, we believe you’d be an excellent fit for the role. Please let us know your decision by Friday.
The Amber thing had apparently made the rounds. Kimberly got a conduct file. Two other teachers came to her about students they’d been watching, and the vice principal started cc’ing her on behavioral review emails she had no business being on.
She only did it because a kid was getting frozen out and nobody else was going to say anything.
That was a month ago. And now they wanted her to coach basketball.
The email had been sitting in her head all day.
Lucy got home, dropped her bag, and opened a beer. Her phone rang.
“Ben, if this is about Matt’s castle obsession, I don’t need another update.”
“You’re the one who said it was a good sign.”
“Except the nurses keep telling me he’s up past lights-out playing that thing. Like I can do anything about it from here.”
“You okay? You don’t usually sound this done.”
“The school wants me to coach the girls’ basketball team.”
“…I’m sorry?”
“The old coach is retiring. They need someone. Apparently I’m it.”
“Have you even played basketball before?”
“I sat through a few of Matt’s baseball games in high school, and I was only there because everyone else went. That’s the full extent of my sports history.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“What can I do? I can’t exactly refuse after they carried me for two semesters.”
“Okay, but have you talked to Matt about it?”
“Why would I? It’s not his problem.”
“No, but he’d probably love it. When’s the last time you asked him for help with something?”
She didn’t answer.
“Exactly. Give him this, Lucy.”
“I don’t know. He’s got enough going on.”
“He’s building castles in a video game. He’s got bandwidth.”
She picked at the label on the bottle.
“I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll do it.”
“Good night, Ralston.”
Matt was at his desk, working a pen across a lined notepad with his left hand. He flipped it over when Lucy came in.
“Didn’t expect to see you on a school day,” he said.
“Yeah, well. I needed to talk to you.”
She stood there with her arms crossed.
“Am I in trouble?”
“Not yet. Keep talking and we’ll see.”
He smirked and waited.
“The school wants me to coach the girls’ basketball team.”
“What?” He stared at her. “Since when do you—”
“You know I don’t. The old coach is retiring and apparently I’m the next best thing, which tells you everything about how thin the bench is.”
He laughed. “This is the best thing I’ve heard all week.”
“This is a disaster.”
“No, it’s amazing. Why you, though? What did they say?”
“Something about leadership I’ve demonstrated this year.” She waved a hand. “Whatever that means.”
“It means they’re paying attention.”
“To what? I teach seventh graders about the Magna Carta.”
“And they listen.” He rolled forward. “You walked back into that school after two semesters off and had your classroom back in a week.”
“That’s teaching.”
“That’s leading. You think coaching is any different? It’s getting people to trust you enough to do hard things. You’ve already got it.”
“Matt, they want me to run a basketball team.”
A year of Lucy carrying everything. Carrying him.
Now she came to him for help.
“Season doesn’t start until fall, right?”
“After summer. New semester.”
“So you’ve got time.”
“I’ve got time and zero knowledge of basketball.”
“You’ve got me.”
“You played baseball.”
“I was undefeated in 3-on-3.”
“Against firefighters.”
“Highly competitive firefighters.”
“Right. Highly competitive over barbecue.”
“You’re lucky I can’t chase you down right now.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
She finally uncrossed her arms.
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