Unfinished Ex (Calloway Brothers, #2)(17)

Neither was texting Nicky and telling her that she had already ruined my life, so why did she have to come back for seconds?

She never responded. And that pissed me off even more.

There are a few more students than normal arriving early to first period.

Matt Bingham sits in his usual spot in the back corner, lazing one foot over his knee. “That’s a sucker punch if I ever saw one, Coach. The ex on XTN? Whoa.”

My star running back has never been a shy, or particularly eloquent, student. I sift through my weekend grading and take his paper back to him. I place it on his desk and point to the big red D. “If you spent less time watching TV and more time studying, you wouldn’t be at risk of being benched.”

“Aw, seriously, Coach?”

More students trail in. Most of them stare, whisper to their friends, then stare some more.

“Okay, listen,” I say after the bell rings. “The only questions I’ll be answering in this class are math questions. Got it?”

Disappointed sighs echo throughout the room. My students were hoping for a little more drama than I plan on giving them.

My next five periods are more of the same. Lunch comes and goes. I sit in my classroom, stomach grumbling. By the time seventh period rolls around, my planning period, I’m spent. If it weren’t for football practice after school, I’d ditch and go home.

I head to the gym early and get changed, once again avoiding Calista, who comes by my classroom most days after school to say hello. Although maybe she wouldn’t have today. I have, after all, been kind of ghosting her. Come to think of it, she hasn’t exactly been beating down my door.

Aside from the one text asking if I was okay… nothing. I suppose if the tables were turned, I’d be pissed at me too.

Eric Snyder, my friend, fellow teacher, and assistant coach, comes toward me shaking his head.

“Fucking sucks to be you right now, Calloway.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“It’s all everyone was talking about today.”

I grab some gear. “Know that too.”

“What are you going to do?”

We head out to the field. “Not much I can do. Besides, as I hear it, it’ll only be a few months, then she’ll be gone and this whole thing will blow over.”

“I’m calling bullshit. You and I have been friends for a while now. It doesn’t take a genius to know you aren’t over your ex.”

“You’re overstepping,” I say. “You didn’t even know her.”

“Am I? You forget the drunken nights we’ve spent together. Alcohol tends to bring out true feelings.”

“Or maybe it just makes us say shit we don’t mean.”

He snorts. “Whatever, man. What does Calista think about all this?”

“Don’t know. Haven’t talked to her about it.”

“About your divorce papers or about Nicky being back?”

“Both.” I throw some cones on the field as we wait for the rest of the coaching staff to join us.

“Do you know what bad timing this is? She shows up in town the day after our divorce papers come.

And Calista, she’s expecting a ring or something now that I’m officially single.”

He seems conflicted. Is he going to take Calista’s side?

“Well, you have been together a while.”

“She’s not even my girlfriend. Not technically.”

“And why is that? Aside from the drunk-say shit you apparently don’t mean.” He rolls his eyes.

“Did you not hear that my divorce just became finalized?”

“Two years, Jaxon. Nicky has been gone for two years. If you really wanted to make a commitment to Calista, you’d have done it by now, married or not. So maybe it’s time to step back.”

Players start to trickle onto the field. “Can we talk about this later? Or not at all?”

“Sure, Coach. Whatever you want.”

I get what he’s saying. Eric is divorced, too. He’s a couple years older than me. Moved to Calloway Creek from New York City a few years ago after his wife bled him dry and took him for everything. I guess that makes him qualified to give advice. And he’s right. If I really wanted to commit to Calista, I would have done it. I keep waiting to get those feelings—the ones that have your palms sweating and your heart pumping at the sight of someone you love. Why do I not get them when I see Calista? But damn it, I did Saturday night when I saw Nicky. I’m supposed to hate her. I do hate her. Except that I still fucking love her.

“Coach?”

My players are waiting for me to tell them what drills to run. Even the other coaches are looking at me as if I’ve sprouted a second head.

I point to my defensive backs. “Zone mesh.” Then to my QBs and WRs, I say, “Routes on air.”

And to my linemen, “Barrell drills.” Nobody moves much. “What’s your fucking problem? Get going!”

Eric stares. I’ve never cussed at my players before. Shit.

“Sorry, guys. Coach Snyder is going to run practice today. Eric, they’re all yours.”

I throw my towel over my shoulder and walk to my car.



~



Cooper comes around back and eyes the empty bottles on the table next to me. “Do I need to look up the nearest AA meeting?” Heisman sidles up to him and gets a pat.