I grabbed my keys, phone, and wallet from the counter. I put my dog, Tucker, in his crate, set the alarm, and walked out to my car. After about 10 minutes, I arrived at the indoor practice facility. I walked inside and half walked, half jogged over to Coach. he greeted me with that same, warm hug and smile that I had grown to love. "how was your day?" he asked, releasing me from the bear hug. "it was just like any other Monday." I replied nonchalantly. I was not about to tell my dad about what "happened" between me and Dylan. he would ask all sorts of questions and never leave it alone. I heard one of the assistant coach's voices in the distance. who was he talking to? oh well. I turned my eyes back to the players. they were doing suicides. they must've done something to tick coach off because he only assigns suicides when they screw up. the assistant coach, coach Jones, joined my dad at his side. "Sam, you have a visitor." Coach Jones said in a shaky voice. me? a visitor? why now? why here? more importantly, who? "Sam!" 'no. it can't be.' I tried to tell myself it wasn't him, that my ears were just playing tricks on me. I knew better than that. I would know that voice anywhere.
