I don't want to feel

Chapter 40

April had finally come with its milder temperatures and blossoming flowers. In less than two months, we would be done with school.

Kane and I were on our way to Coach’s office to, and I quote, “discuss our future”.

The door was already open when we got there. Coach was on the phone but he motioned for us to sit down on the two chairs that were facing his messy desk.

My heart sank at the realization that I would no longer see him once school was over.

I still remembered the first time we saw him in Year seven.

“I know I’m your form tutor, but I’m Coach Taylor to you, and I want you to call me Coach, understood?”

Intimidated by his big voice, we had all nodded frantically.

“Good. Now, I want you to run fifty laps.”

Ben Jordan had then decided to open his big mouth.

“But Coach…"

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence as he was cut off.

“Sixty laps…”

“But…" Jordan interjected.

"Ok, you’re all going to start with fifty push-ups."

Jordan had been about to open it again, when a very pissed off Josh had told him to shut up, earning us fifty extra push-ups…

Without a word, we had done the hundred push-ups (or as many as we managed, being eleven at the time…) before running the sixty laps.

Nobody had dared answering back to him ever again after that day.

~~~

He hung up and greeted us in his usual way.

“Ford, Richards.”

“Coach.” We replied at the same time.

“I will get straight to the point. As you well know, it’s a school requirement that, being a form tutor, I shall receive a copy of any offers made by universities to the pupils I’m responsible of.” He paused, so we nodded.

He then pointed to two piles of letters in front of him.

“This pile, here, contains the twenty seven offers you’ve received, Sam, and this here, is yours, Kane. And it contains exactly the same offers as Sam.”

Okay… Where is he going with this?

“Just out of curiosity, did you read any of these letters?” He was looking at us with furrowed eyebrows.

“I did.” Kane muttered.

Coach then turned to me.

“I didn’t.” I admitted.

Kane stared at me in disbelief.

“How come?” Coach finally broke the silence.

“I don’t know…” I lowered my head to the floor. “I’m scared, I guess…”

“What of?” It was no longer Coach Taylor speaking, but the caring man, the only father figure I had ever known so I opened up.

“Of making the wrong choice, of being alone in a new place again…” My voice was barely above a whisper.

Kane, who had carefully avoided any physical contacts since I had pushed him away in the lunch room, back in January, tentatively reached for my hand. When he saw that I didn’t move away, he squeezed it softly.