Looking to Score(61)

Coach Howard stayed in the police station for five hours. Given that it was the weekend, I doubted a judge was able to release Oakley until Monday, but surprisingly, they both emerged from the station a little after nine.

I immediately stood up when I saw them, and Oakley ran to my outstretched arms. “I was so fucking worried about you,” he whispered against my neck before pulling away to look me over.

“Both of you get in my car right now. It’s a miracle the press isn’t swarming this place already,” Coach Howard grunted. I lowered my head and clutched Oakley’s hand as we made it to Coach’s rental sedan.

“What in the hell happened here tonight?” Coach seethed. He was so angry he was barely able to get the words out.

“That asshole grabbed her, and I just saw red—” Oakley started to defend himself.

“Not you. I’m talking to Amanda. I just spent the last five hours listening to your side,” Coach cut him off. Directing the conversation back to me, Coach said, “You were supposed to keep the players in the hotel. Nobody in, nobody out. So I will ask you again. What the hell happened?” Coach was on a warpath. He spat his words through gritted teeth, and his knuckles turned white from how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry, Coach.” I started to try to explain the night’s events. “I, um, stepped inside my room for a moment.”

I tiptoed around referring to Oakley and my room as “our room,” and I did not want to volunteer the details of what exactly was going on inside the room that distracted me from playing warden. Although, the entire team knew what was up, so I was sure it was only a matter of time before Coach found out that Oakley and I were well on our way to bumping bellies instead of babysitting.

“There was a knock on the door and someone was yelling.”

“Kyle, it was Kyle at the door,” Oakley interjected.

“Yes, Kyle was at the door to let us know that Dale had snuck out by taking the back stairs. I honestly don’t even know how long he was gone, because I stayed at my spot near the elevators for most of the night,” I explained.

“Except for when you stepped inside for a minute,” Coach growled.

I sighed and kept explaining. “Kyle told us where Dale went, and well, you know the rest.”

“Yeah, I know that my star player got into a damn fist fight the night before a huge game. Over his publicist. Who was supposed to be keeping the team from getting into any fucking trouble,” he yelled.

We rode in relative silence the rest of the way back to the hotel, the tension-filled quiet only broken by Coach occasionally cursing or mumbling about how his team was full of idiots.

We walked into the hotel lobby all together, and I tried to apologize to the coach one more time.

He turned to look at me and spat, “Pack up and go home. You’re fired.”

I knew this was coming, but it still hurt all the same. “She did nothing wrong. Dale snuck out the fire escape. You can’t hold her responsible for this.”

“I can and I will,” Coach Howard yelled. “She should have called me the exact moment she learned of Dale’s behavior. She absolutely shouldn’t have brought you along. You had scouts today that were going to see you play. And now, according to league rules, I have to bench you for the most important game of the year—fuck—the most important game of your life, Mr. Davis.”

Moisture collected in my eyes. He was right. I handled everything wrong, and now all the progress we’d made with Oakley was ruined. I slowly averted my eyes, staring at the concrete in slumped shame. “Go home. If I have to repeat myself, it won’t be pretty,” Coach said.

I ran inside the hotel room with Oakley hot on my heels, choking back sobs as I went. Coach Howard was screaming at Oakley to stay put, but he ignored him. I guess things couldn’t get much worse, so it didn’t matter.

I let my tears fall freely as I frantically shoved all of my clothes into my suitcase. Oakley grabbed my hand in an attempt to get me to stop, but I shrugged him off. I had to just get out of here. Like, now. I was mad at myself for not thinking to call Coach, I was mad at Oakley for getting into that fight, and I was mad at Dale for sneaking out in the first place. Fucking Dale.

But, mostly, I was embarrassed. Oakley had seen the most shameful moment of my life, and I was forced to relive it with the people who made my life hell. I was embarrassed that I managed to fuck everything up for about the millionth time, and I brought Oakley down with me. I just couldn’t take it.

I headed for the door, and Oakley followed, this time reaching up for my shoulders and gently spinning me toward him.

“I’ll come home with you,” he said gently, not a trace of judgement in his eyes.

“No. Absolutely not. You need to stay here and support your team,” I replied firmly, wiggling out of his grasp.

“Amanda, if this is about the video, I don’t care.”

“But I do. It was embarrassing. I can’t escape it,” I cried out. “And now it’s affecting you. I can’t believe you saw that.” I shook my head.

“You know what I saw?” Oakley asked, and I didn’t want to hear the answer. He stepped closer, locking me in with his body and hard stare. “I saw my beautiful girlfriend struggling. I saw people taking advantage of you. I saw people shaming a body and a person that’s very precious to me. I would stand by your side and defend you every time if given the chance.”