The Coaches Daughter || Callum Turner

Chapter 19

Garrison

It had been two weeks since I'd talked to Jade, and every day felt heavier than the last. I couldn't get her out of my head—the way she looked at me when she left my room at the party, her words echoing in my mind. I felt like the biggest asshole in the world, and no matter how I tried to rationalize it, nothing made it better. Avoiding her was supposed to be easier, but it wasn't. It was fucking killing me.

I was heading to practice, hoping the routine would take my mind off everything. I got out of class early, grabbed a quick lunch, and decided to stay on campus since I already had all my gear. My sneakers squeaked against the tile as I walked down the hallway to the locker room, my bag slung over my shoulder.

As I passed Coach Holland's office, I barely glanced inside, not thinking much of it. But something caught my eye—a flicker of movement—and I froze. My body reacted before my brain could process it. I took a few steps back, slowly peering into the office, and my stomach dropped.

Coach was there, alright. Except he wasn't alone. 

Professor Adams was perched on his desk, her legs wrapped around him, their faces locked together like something out of a bad soap opera. Her hands were tangled in his shirt, and his grip on her waist made it clear this wasn't some innocent moment. My eyes went wide, and before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out of my mouth. 

"Holy shit." 

The sound of my own voice made me flinch, and in an instant, Coach Holland's head snapped up. His eyes met mine, and everything in me screamed to run. My face burned as I realized what I'd just walked in on—and who it was. 

I'd never felt this embarrassed in my life. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears, and I immediately looked away, my head down as I sped off down the hall. 

"Garrison!" Coach's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "Wait! Come back here!" 

There was no way in hell I was turning around. I picked up my pace, my legs moving faster than they should have, desperate to put as much distance between myself and that office as possible. 

"Garrison, stop!" he yelled again, his tone harsher this time. 

I froze. My feet stopped moving, but the rest of me didn't know what to do. My breath was shaky, my mind racing. I could feel his eyes boring into my back from somewhere down the hall. For a split second, I thought about turning around. 

Instead, I kept walking. 

Straight into the locker room, my head down and my hands gripping the straps of my bag like a lifeline. I didn't care what Coach had to say—I didn't want to hear it. I couldn't even believe what I'd just seen. 

I shoved the door open and disappeared inside.

Just when I thought I'd gotten away, the locker room door swung open with a loud crash, and Coach Holland strode in behind me. My stomach dropped, and I spun around, throwing my hands up defensively.

"I'm sorry," I stammered, words spilling out in a rush. "I didn't mean to—I wasn't trying to see anything, I swear—"

"Garrison," Coach Holland cut me off, his voice low and firm. "You're not in trouble. Just—listen. I need you to keep what you saw to yourself. Don't tell anyone."

I let out a sharp laugh, my nerves giving way to disbelief. My hands dropped to my sides, and I stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "What is it with you and all these secrets you need me to keep?"

The words were out before I could stop them, but I didn't care. I was done pretending this was okay. As I looked at him, really looked at him, I realized how pathetic this all was—how pathetic *he* was in this moment.

"Coach," I said, my voice heavy with incredulity, "aren't you married? Does your wife know about this?"

His face stiffened, the easy authority he always carried cracking. "Garrison," he said through clenched teeth, "you're a kid. You don't understand anything about this."

That set me off. "No, no, I understand perfectly clear," I snapped, pointing a finger at him. "You're cheating on your wife with a younger woman you work with, and now I have to keep that a secret for you. And on top of that, I had to break up with your daughter—your daughter, Coach—which, by the way, I broke her heart. And you wouldn't even let me tell her why and I have to keep *m that a secret too."

My voice rose with every word, my frustration boiling over as the weight of everything he'd put on me finally came crashing down. "Is there anything else you'd like to add to the list, Coach? Or is that it? Because I've got a game to prepare for."

The locker room went silent, the only sound my heavy breathing as I stood there, fists clenched, staring at the man who'd just ruined whatever respect I'd had left for him.

"You know," I said, my voice shaking with anger, "I've looked up to you for three years. Three years. I wanted to be like you. Play in the pro leagues one day, just like you. Wear a USA jersey, just like you. Coach a Division I team, just like you. I wanted to be you."

My chest heaved, my fists tightening at my sides. "But you know what I'd never do? I'd never cheat on my wife. And I'd never ask some kid to break my daughter's heart."

Coach's face paled, the confidence and authority he usually carried completely stripped away. For the first time, he looked small—like the weight of his actions had finally started to crush him.

I shook my head, disgusted. "You're not the guy I thought you were, Coach. Not even close."

With that, I turned away, grabbed my gear off the bench, and walked straight out of the locker room. I didn't care if practice was about to start. I didn't care about the consequences. Right now, I couldn't be anywhere near him.