Coach Me

My heart is beating faster, faster. My feet pound on the track. Faster, faster. I’m close to the finish line. I finish strong. Not because Foster said I had a weak finish with the relay, but because I always finish strong. I’m known for finishing strong, so Foster can fuck off.

I zoom past the line and have to take control of my legs again as I slow down to a steady trot. I huff a laugh as I lace my fingers together and press the palms of my connected hands on the top of my head.

I toss my head back, relishing in my own victory, drawing in deep breaths. I’ve still got it. Fuck what Foster thinks.

“And I guess that’s why they call you the fastest female runner on the east coast.”

I gasp, dropping my hands, and spinning around. Torres is standing by the bench, his hands in the pockets of his track pants.

“What the hell? How long have you been standing there?” I ask, still panting.

“Came from my office just as you were getting ready to take off. You’ve got pretty good formation. Your legs shouldn’t be so spread apart when you get into your runners’ stance though.”

“Nothing is wrong with my legs,” I counter.

“I didn’t say anything was wrong with them. I said they shouldn’t be spread so far apart.”

I pant softly as he walks onto the track. “Go home, Lakes. You’ll have plenty of time for running tomorrow.”

I shift on my feet. I want to bring up what I heard between him and Foster in the hallway, but I was never meant to hear that conversation. I don’t want him to think eavesdropping is a habit of mine. Then again, I do want to thank him. But perhaps this isn’t the time.

I make my way to my gym bag on the ground, slinging it over my shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Coach.” I turn and head for the exit, but I don’t get too far.

“Power,” I hear him say.

I turn to look at him. “What?”

“I said you need to exert more power.” He steps forward. “When you take off, you take off slow, but fortunately for you, you catch speed quick, which helps you in winning. Your take off would be much faster and easier if you put more of your power into your thighs instead of your feet.”

“Funny. My dad always told me to keep the balance between my feet and my thighs.”

“You’ll test it out eventually. We’ll work on it. For now, go home.”

He turns on the heels of his shoes to go back to wherever he came from. I watch him go, then I head for the exit, but not without looking back.

TEN

When I get to the apartment, Kendall is sprawled out on the sofa, her head hanging over one arm of it, and her leg dangling over the other.

I close the door quietly and walk to my room, dropping my bag in the corner and sighing. I take pajamas out and go to the bathroom for a shower.

When I’m done, I take my phone out of my bag and call Mama. It’s a little after eight and I know she’s just finished her shift at the shoe store. Mama does book-keeping by day and works part-time at a shoe store, which comes in handy when I need new running shoes.

“Hi, baby,” Mama coos, and her voice is warm and soothing, and I’ve missed it so, so much. Her voice is home. I haven’t talked to her in two days. Each time I missed her calls or forgot to call her back because I was either sleeping or hanging out with Kendall and Janine.

“Hey, Mama. How is everything?”

“Oh, everything is everything, honey. I’m making some potato soup for Mrs. Goldbury. She’s come down with something.”

“Oh, that sucks. Tell her I said hello when you see her and that I hope she feels better.” Mrs. Goldbury is our neighbor. She looked after me a lot after Daddy passed and Mama had to pick up two jobs.

“I will. So, did you have that relay today? That was today, right? Didn’t you tell me about that a couple days ago?”

“It was today, and it sucked. I had the slowest girl on the team in my group and it cost us the race.” I hesitate before saying, “One of the coaches tried to blame the loss on me.”

“What?” she demands. “Who?”

“I don’t think you’ve met her, but it’s Coach Foster. I don’t know, Mama. I get the feeling she doesn’t like me.” Tears well in my eyes as I remember her hissing the words, “She doesn’t fit in at Bennett University.”

“Why do you say that?”

I explain everything to Mama, from the way Coach Foster talked to me on the field after the relay race, and I even tell her everything I heard in the hallway between her and Torres.