The Ex Project by Nia Arthurs

Chapter Four

“Coach!”A boyish voice rang over the football field.

Duane turned and caught a glimpse of a brown blur shooting across the grass. In a second, the blur was in front of him. Scrawny arms wrapped around his waist and an equally scrawny body slammed him back a step.

“Oof.” He caught his balance and dropped his hands on the excited kid’s back.

The boy lifted his face and a shocked smile staggered across Duane’s expression.

“Theo.”

“Coach!” Theo released him just as quickly as he’d held on. The boy’s round face beamed with excitement. He had cocoa-colored skin, a neat haircut cropped close to his head and gangly arms that would, undoubtedly, mean a growth spurt in his future. “My break is over. I’m back.”

Duane nodded. “Glad to have you, Theo.”

Soft footsteps caused his head to fly up. Yolanda approached them, looking more beautiful than she had that night at the bar.

Her black hair flowed around her shoulders. A couple tendrils lifted in the breeze. The white top made her chocolate-toned complexion glow. Her skin was supple and flawless. Duane knew because he’d been so close to her face last weekend he could have counted each individual eyelash and traced the curve of her soft cheek.

She was wearing some kind of gloss on her lips that shimmered in the sunshine. His body tightened with longing. Yolanda looked like a million bucks. Though, according to gossip around the school, she was worth way more than that.

Duane clasped his hands behind his back and gave her a polite nod. “Ma’am.”

Her answering nod was even more awkward. Jerking her eyes away from his, Yolanda held a duffel bag out to her son. “Tay-Tay, you ran off so fast you forgot this.”

“Thanks, mom,” the boy grumbled. He reached out, long fingers extended, and took the bag from her. “I’ve got it from here.”

“That sounds like a polite way to say ‘bug off’.” She lifted her thin nose in the air and slanted her son a warning look. “You want me to grab your face and kiss you in front of all your friends?”

“Mom…” He jumped back, terrified.

“I’ll do it,” Yolanda threatened, stepping forward.

“Coach!” Theo ran behind him, his voice squealing in mild disgust.

Yolanda glanced at him and then looked away.

Duane chuckled. “We’re about to start. Tay-Tay needs to warm up.”

“His practice is two hours, right?” She checked her watch, still carefully avoiding his eyes.

Duane dipped his chin. “Yes.”

“I’ll be back later.” She caressed her son’s head gently, but her voice was firm. “Behave yourself, okay? I don’t want to hear any complaints from your coach.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Theo said.

Duane lifted a hand in goodbye.

Yolanda gave him a quick, tight-lipped glance and then strutted away.

He wondered what he’d done to earn that stern look from her. They’d bonded last Saturday, hadn’t they? He hadn’t imagined the way she’d smiled over drinks. The way her hand rested on his thigh. The way she’d been vulnerable and open about how much she worried for her son and wanted the best for him.

He’d found it weird when she ran out of the hotel room the next morning, but he figured she was worried about Theo. Now, he wondered if she was upset with him.

Theo breathed a sigh in relief. “Thanks for the save, coach.”

Duane forced himself not to gaze at Yolanda’s retreat and pointed his stare at Theo.

The boy looked like the very picture of privilege. Unlike some of the other kids who wore untidy jerseys and scuffed sneakers that were inappropriate for any sport, but especially for football, Theo stood out.

His brown skin was as shiny as the gold chain around his neck. He never came to practice with untidy hair or a speck of dust on his clothes. The cleats he wore were professional grade, the kind that had to be custom-ordered and shipped into Belize.

Whether he wanted to or not, Theo didn’t quite fit with the others who were mostly from low-income families. Duane knew the difference had resulted in some trouble in the group.

He’d tried his best to gently pull the team together but, ultimately, he had failed. It resulted in Theo lashing out and hitting one of his teammates. Duane blamed himself for being inattentive.

“Let’s talk for a minute,” he said, gesturing to the water cooler he kept in the shade. It was a good distance away from the other players who were filing in. He wanted the privacy to talk to Theo before practice.

Theo gripped his duffel tightly, his chin tucked against his chest and his eyes on his cleats as if he already knew what Duane wanted to discuss.

When they drew closer to the water cooler, he spoke quietly, “You know why I put you on break, right?”

“I punched Yanique.” Theo kicked at a blade of grass. “My mom already grounded me for that.”

Duane tried not to smile as he remembered Yolanda’s fierce expression when she heard about the fight. He was a little surprised to hear all she’d done was ground him. At one point, Duane had feared for Theo’s life.

“I won’t do it again, coach,” Theo said, a hint of desperation creeping out into his voice.

Duane focused on the kid and put Yolanda out of his mind. First and foremost, Theo was a part of his football team. That meant the kid was his responsibility.

“Sit down.” He pointed to a bench.

Theo sat and sighed like an old man. “Coach, if you expect me to say sorry…”

Duane glanced at Theo’s down-turned face. “That day, you didn’t tell me what started the fight. I’d like to hear it now.”

“It’s no big deal,” Theo mumbled in that way kids do when trying to play off a subject.

Duane leaned his elbows on his thighs and pressed his hands together. Looking out over the large football field, he spoke to the sunshine rather than the nervous little boy. “When I first started playing football, I got into a fight too.” He saw when Theo’s eyebrow twitched. The kid turned toward him, listening closely. “It was after a game. We were tied with a couple minutes on the clock. I was supposed to make the winning goal, but I missed.”

“Did you fight with the other team?”

“No, I fought with one of my teammates. He was talking smack. Told me that our team losing was my fault.”

“Did you beat him up?”

“I tried.” Duane lifted both shoulders. “But he was bigger than me. I got totaled.”

Rather than snicker at him, Theo frowned. Duane was reminded of Theo’s maturity. It was why he’d considered making him captain of the team. Of course, that was before he’d punched someone.

Duane looked into the kid’s eyes. “My point is, I started the fight—not because I really wanted to punch anyone, but because I was disappointed in myself and I was embarrassed. I felt responsible for letting the team down.”

“What happened with you and the guy who beat you up?”

“Tank’s a lawyer and a good friend now. He invited me to his wedding and I even made a toast. I reminded him of that day and told him how much he’d grown as a person and a friend. I also thanked him for the scar he gave me. All the girls think it’s cool.”

Theo chuckled.

“Do you know why me and that guy became friends though?”

“Why?”

“Because my coach sat me down, just like this, and helped me see that being tough doesn’t always mean throwing punches.”

Theo stared at his shoes again.

Duane let a moment of silence pass before gently pressing, “You want to tell me what that fight was about?”

“I…” Theo rubbed his hands together. His sneakers hung off the bench and his legs swung in the air. “I was showing everyone the new game my grandma got me. Yanique came up to me and… he said I was a mommy’s boy.” Theo’s lips went firm. “And then he said he knew why I always had nice things. He said my mom had to…”

“Had to what?”

Beneath his brown skin, Theo turned a little red.

Duane frowned. “You can tell me.”

“He said my mom had to s-sleep with…”

Duane tapped his fingers against the bench. “I see.”

“I told him to shut up and he kept talking crap about my mom, so I punched him.”

Duane rubbed Theo’s shoulder. “Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re not gonna do anything, are you?”

“I have to talk to Yanique about his behavior.”

Theo looked stricken.

“I won’t tolerate that kind of talking on my field. Teammates are supposed to have each other’s backs.”

“But coach!”

“What?”

“He’s gonna think I’m a snitch.”

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks. If you both want to stay on this team, you’ll have to learn to work together.” He softened his tone. “Yanique didn’t receive the same punishment because you admitted to throwing the first punch, but now that the full story is out, he should apologize. I think you should too.”

Theo’s face went hard. “I’m not apologizing to him.”

“Then you’ll miss a lesson that could make you a better man in the future.”

Theo huffed, clearly unimpressed with the benefits of apologizing.

“It’s easy to throw a punch, remember? But it’s harder to man up and admit your mistakes. It takes even more guts to change your behavior.” He tapped Theo’s chest. “You want to show you’re tough? You can’t do what everyone else does. You have to rise above.”

Theo flung his arms. “But he started it!”

Duane arched an eyebrow. “Do you need another week at home to think about your behavior?”

“No, coach!”

“Then what needs to happen?”

“I’ll apologize, coach,” Theo grumbled.

Duane patted his shoulder. “Start the warm-ups for me and tell Yanique I’m calling him.”

“Yes, coach.” Theo hopped off the bench and landed on his feet.

When the kid lingered, Duane turned to him. “Is there something else?”

“Thanks for letting me back on the team. I really missed practice, coach.” His brown eyes glistened for a moment and then he turned and ran off.

Duane chuckled. He enjoyed working with all the kids, but Theo’s intelligence, leadership qualities and natural abilities in the game made him stand out. The little boy reminded Duane of his old self. Stubborn, proud but, ultimately, willing to listen.

A few minutes later, Yanique arrived at the bench and Duane talked to him patiently but sternly. The kid’s expression soured when he brought up apologizing, but he nodded silently.

Duane knew he had Yanique’s respect and he didn’t take that lightly. No matter what, Yanique was still young and malleable. Duane wanted to play his part in steering him on the right path.

After the speech, Yanique pouted but agreed to apologize for his comments. There was hope for a friendship between the boys, although he doubted they wanted one right now.

“Let’s start practice,” Duane said.

With the sun beating down on his head, he went through the drills with his team, but his thoughts kept returning to Yolanda. Her strange behavior when she dropped her son off bothered him. Why was she being so cold?

By the time practice was over, Duane had wracked his brain but could not figure out what he’d done wrong.

There was no use driving himself crazy. Duane decided to stop thinking about it and clarify the problem for himself.