“You thought, ‘Hey, what if Becca does break my heart and fall for someone next fall? Where does that leave me?’ So, you went into a bedroom or somewhere private with a very willing Sara. Then Becca somehow walked in on you right before you finished debating in your head if you were going to kiss her?”

You see me trying to make it seem like he would never cheat on Becca? Probably bullshit. He’s seventeen. He would’ve kissed Sara and blown his relationship with Becca into smithereens and only realized what a mistake that was down the road.

“Exactly. Coach.”

“Now you have to grovel.” I check the clock one more time. Three minutes until first bell.

“I did. I went to her house. I texted her.”

I stand to let Elijah know he’s leaving before my class arrives. “Sorry,” I smack him on the back. “You need to pull out the big guns.”

His shoulders slump.

“Just think of what makes Becca happy, why she fell in love with you, and you’ll figure it out.”

“How do you know, Coach?”

I open the door and wait for him to walk through. “Because I was you at one time. And another piece of advice?”

He waits for me on the other side of the door.

“Don’t go listening to your friends. They usually give shit advice, and honestly, you usually get a lot more experience with a girlfriend than by flipping around with multiple girls. Teenage boys have shit for brains. Don’t listen to them.”

I really don’t want to know how far he’s gotten with Becca. Especially with Phoenix and Sedona being the same age as Elijah.

He looks at me sheepishly. “Well, we have—”

“That’s a conversation I don’t want to hear and no one else should either. Don’t be a dick and kiss and tell.” The bell rings. “Go to class.”

He turns around. “You mean assembly.”

“Assembly?”

We walk out into the hallway where everyone is filing toward the auditorium.

“Yeah, remember Principal Miller had the baby?”

Shit. Now I’m running my fingers through my hair. All the teenage angst had me forgetting that we have to meet the new principal of Lake Starlight High School this morning. The last principal I’ll ever be under because next year I’m heading to the college level—I hope.

“Yeah. Go. You don’t want to be late.”

“Thanks, Coach… for everything.” He jogs down the hall, catching up to his friends.

I turn to go through the back entrance since I’ll have to sit in a chair in front of all the students so that we can appear as a united front for the new principal. A symbol that says we have their back.

I run smack-dab into Fay Murphy, the office assistant. “Hey, Fay.”