Strong Like You by T. L. Simpson

Author:T. L. Simpson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Boys & Men 
YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Coming of Age 
YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Sports & Recreation / Football
Publisher: North Star Editions
Published: 2024-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

22

Coach Widner throws a pair of work gloves on the bed next to me. I’ve been lying there, staring at a water spot in the ceiling, thinking about things.

I raise an eyebrow at him. “What’s this?”

“Come on,” he says. He waits in the doorway for a minute, then puts on his coach voice. “I said come on.”

I grab the gloves and stand up. Follow him into the living room. We go outside, and I see a new window leaning against the house, near the one I punched a hole in yesterday.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Your momma has a hard enough time keeping food in your belly without you breaking things and costing her even more money,” Coach Widner says.

I start to protest, but Coach Widner shakes his head. “No, Walker. There’s no excuse. You were mad. So what? Being mad ain’t an excuse to do whatever fool thing comes into your head.”

“I know what you were doing in there,” I say.

He scowls, motions toward the window. “You’re going to help me fix this. And you’re going to have a good attitude about it. You understand?”

What does he think he’s doing? Trying to be you? Trying to teach me a lesson? Well, I’ve had enough lessons to last me my entire life. I glare at him. Clench my jaw.

“Understood?” he says again. And when I still don’t say anything, he says, “You want to play in tomorrow’s game, or would you rather ride the bench?”

My hands start shaking. I feel the heat inside me the same way I did when I threw that rock through the window. But what can I do? I have to play tomorrow. I fight hard to throw water on that fire . . . at least long enough to get through fixing this stupid window.

Coach Widner picks up a roll of blue painter’s tape. He hands it to me.

“Take two strips and make an X across the glass,” he says, tugging on his own pair of work gloves. “When we push that window out, it’s going to want to shatter because of the hole you put in it. The tape keeps it together.”

I take the tape and make an X. “Now what?”

“Go inside and do the same thing again.”

I sigh, annoyed. “How long is this gonna take?”

“Longer if you piss and moan the whole time.”

I walk inside. Momma’s on the couch with a cup of coffee in both hands, watching everything through the window. She looks amused. I point at her. “Why you let him do this to me?”

“Do what?”

I wave a hand toward the broken window.

“Walker, you might learn something.”

Coach Widner pecks on the glass. He taps his wrist. I glance at Momma one more time, then rip off two pieces of tape to make an X on the backside of the glass. When I get back outside, Coach Widner says, “There you go. I’ll do this next part.”

I sit down on the porch. Coach Widner rummages around in a toolbox until he finds a box cutter knife.

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