Class Act: A Coach/Student Romance
Class Act: Chapter 6

“EMERY, WHAT HAPPENED TO your face?”

I stifled my groan and turned my face away from Mandy, but it was too late. I hadn’t been able to cover up the latest punch from my father with makeup, no matter that I’d used concealer and every trick in the book I knew. It’d been bad. He’d acted so pissed about my suspension, even though he didn’t give a shit whether or not I attended school. I basically sent myself every day with little to no help from him.

“Emery?” Mandy pressed, her tone full of concern. How to get out of this one?

“It’s nothing.”

She grabbed my arm. “It’s not nothing. Someone hit you, and I want to know who.”

I shrugged. “I got in a fight, that’s all.”

“I don’t believe you.”

I halted in the middle of the hall, causing some kid behind us to bump into me. He scowled and walked around.

“Look, we’ll talk later, okay? I gotta go.”

“Go where?” She frowned. “It’s lunchtime. Aren’t you eating with us in the cafeteria?”

“Can’t. I have detention with your father, remember? I’ll do it first, then eat lunch after.”

I’d done little but think about it over the weekend and how I was going to get through it.

“Oh yeah. Maybe I’ll come with you, and we can both talk him out of giving you actual detention.”

“Nope. Not going to take the easy way out.”

“Come on, it’s my dad. He’s really cool.”

“Mandy.” I gave her a gentle push forward. “Go have lunch with the rest of the squad. This is only for the week and then I can rejoin you for lunch. If you-know-who hasn’t banned me.”

Mandy rolled her eyes, likely remembering the confrontation I’d had with Ruby this morning. The chick seriously needed a life. She’d been all up on my case about members of the cheer squad not getting detention. It would make the team look bad, and why didn’t I save myself the embarrassment now and quit?

I was seriously contemplating it. Way too much drama.

“Catch you later, Mandy.”

Before she could respond, I walked away, heading in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. Kids had either kept a wide berth around me or giggled every time I passed them this morning. Coach had tried, but my ass had still ended up making the rounds on social media like I knew would happen.

It was Foster Academy all over again.

Not if I have anything to do with it.

I couldn’t let the same shit happen. No fucking way.

As the head coach, Coach Cooper had his own office, tucked away at the rear of the building. It was closer to the boys’ locker room than the administrative block. I’d been dreading this all weekend, and my palms were sweaty when I stopped at his door. Next to it was a whiteboard with dates scribbled in blue marker—the dates of the upcoming football games and where they would be played.

A mischievous little devil on my shoulder had me glancing around. I tiptoed up to the board and used my index finger to erase the four from the date of the next match.

The door opened, and I froze. Coach Cooper walked out and did a double take when he saw me.

“Emery.”

He glanced at my very guilty finger, which I hadn’t pulled away fast enough. There was no hiding the blue smudge on said finger. My face burned, and my heart beat hard in my chest at his scowl.

A very hot scowl.

Oh boy.

This wasn’t good.

“I-I-I can write it back.”

“Please do, and when you’re done trying to earn more detention hours, step inside my office. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Coach Cooper stalked away, and I stared after the man’s broad back. Unlike the other teachers, he always wore sweatpants and a track jacket with a T-shirt underneath. The coach at my old school looked nothing like him.

I tore my eyes away from the back of my best friend’s dad—I needed that reminder—and quickly scribbled the number. And because I couldn’t help myself, I added kitty whiskers to all the i’s, replaced the marker, and slipped inside his office.

“Holy shit.”

His office was smaller than I’d expected and a disaster. His desk was littered with papers that only stayed on because he’d plunked anything he could replace on them—his phone, a stapler, a book, scissors, a hole punch, a glue stick. Nothing was in order. A cabinet to the right of his desk was opened, files pushed in haphazardly so the drawer didn’t close properly.

Yikes.

The closed window made the room stuffy. The A/C didn’t seem to operate, and the fan plugged in on the other side of the room was off. No way could I stay in this crummy office.

I walked over to the window, but it was too high up, so I grabbed a chair and set it beneath it. I climbed on and unlocked the latch of the window, then pushed it out. Cool air rushed into the room.

Much better.

“What are you doing?”

I startled, and I wobbled on the chair. “Shit.” I tried to steady myself, but the chair rocked, and one of the legs landed on something that was definitely not the floor. I clamped my eyes shut and braced for the fall.

Into a hard, muscular chest.

Arms wrapped around my body, and stubble scraped my jaw. My skin tingled. I inhaled deeply, taking in his lightly musky odor mingled with a woodsy cologne. His arms tightened around me, and… it just felt nice. To have someone hold me like this.

I knew it meant nothing. He’d just prevented me from taking a nasty fall, but I didn’t know how not to take advantage of the situation.

Oh my god, no one has really hugged me in years.

As the reality hit me, I broke, and I burrowed deeper into his chest, gasping for air. My heart was beating too fast, and my chest tightened. An irrational fear settled in my bones, and I shook against him. Against this stranger who hadn’t meant to hug me but now was doing just that.

“Hey, I’ve got you. Breathe in slowly,” he said softly. “In and out. In and out.”

I followed his instructions, but it wasn’t so easy when my brain slammed years of living a shitty existence into the forefront of my mind.

“Do you want to go to the nurse?”

I shook my head. “Anxiety—attack. Just need—a minute.”

I gasped when he lifted me in his arms and brought me to the chair behind his desk. He placed me in it, then stepped back, but I clutched his hand, desperately needing the warmth of another person to anchor me. To remind me of what was real. It was so hard to know anymore.

“Please don’t go.”

He perched at the side of his desk and held on to my hand, not saying anything, but that was okay. I’d had enough of words for a while. So many people told me what to do, but so few showed me they cared. Even if he was just giving concern as a teacher, it was still concern, and I soaked it up. No telling when anyone would hold my hand again without expecting something in return.

After a few minutes, my breathing calmed. My head still felt a little light, and my mind was terribly foggy, but I wasn’t struggling to inhale air anymore.

Coach Cooper squeezed my hand, and I glanced up at him. Our gazes clashed, and the hard beating of my heart had absolutely nothing to do with my anxiety attack.

Oh shit, I’d never felt such a pull to someone before.

Did he feel it too?

He dropped my hand like he’d burned himself and vaulted off the desk. “Feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you. I haven’t had an anxiety attack since I started this school.”

He frowned. “Got them a lot at the previous one?”

“Quite a bit, actually.” I licked my lips and wrapped my arms around my body. “Thought I was over them.”

“Hmm.” He scratched his stubble. “Listen, I know you’re supposed to do detention with me, but why don’t you go to the library?”

“The library?”

“Yeah, nobody’s checking whether or not you’re here the entire time, and since I’m the one who was offended and I’m sure you’re sorry for what happened, you can go.”

“What? Why would you let me off the hook?” I clutched the arms of the chair. “I don’t understand.”

“You were being picked on. You were upset, and in the heat of the moment, you lashed out. Happens to the best of us. I’ll let you off with a warning, but you should respect your teachers. I’ve seen too many times when a teacher a student disrespected ended up being the person who helped them out of a bad situation.”

“I know, and I truly am sorry, but I accept my punishment.” I got out of the chair and, when I found my legs didn’t wobble, moved around his desk. “It’s just for this week.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have anything for you to do.”

I raised an eyebrow and gestured at his office. “Are you kidding me? Coach, this whole place could use a makeover, and I’m the guy for makeovers.”

“What? No.” He cringed. “I mean, I know it’s a disaster, but I’ll handle it.”

“It’s settled, then.” I walked over to the file cabinet and pulled out the drawer all the way. Didn’t this man know anything about filing? “I’ll tidy this place up so if the principal asks you how my detention went, you can tell him you’ve whipped me into a proper, respectful boy.”

An image of myself over Coach’s lap, him paddling my ass, was definitely not where I’d been going with that. It sounded dirty too—the whole proper, respectful boy bit. I glanced over my shoulder. Had he noticed the sexual undertone? If he had, he didn’t show it. He was picking up a football from under a chair.

“Fine. Maybe just straighten things up, and I’ll sign off on your detention.”

“Good. You’ll want to call this place home when I’m done with it.”

“Just tidying a bit, Emery. Anything more and it becomes child labor.”

“I’m nineteen! Hardly a child, and it’ll keep me busy. Honestly, I don’t mind.” I arranged some files, but oh boy, this was going to take a lot more work than I’d anticipated. The students’ names weren’t even in alphabetical order.

“Wait, isn’t this your lunch hour?” Coach asked.

“Yes.”

“Have you eaten yet?”

“No. It’s okay. I’m not hungry anyway.”

“Nope.” He walked up to me and shoved the drawer of the cabinet shut. At least he tried, but it stuck. “I don’t want you skipping lunch to do detention in my office. You can come back after school.” He was way too close. Brain short-circuiting. “I’ll be at football practice, but I’ll leave the door open. Just pop in when you’re ready, and you can leave when you’re done.”

“Cool.”

“Wait, don’t you have cheerleading practice?”

“Tomorrow. Just two days this week, since we’re having camp over the weekend.”

“Oh, right. Mandy mentioned that.”

Mandy.

I stepped away from Coach Cooper and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’ll stop by later, then. Thank you. For everything.”

He simply nodded, and I left his office, closing the door behind me. I strolled down the hall, then backtracked to the whiteboard and rubbed out the number I’d rewritten earlier. When I was out of the corridor, I burst out laughing.

What would he do when he saw what I’d done? He would know for sure I was the one who did it. But he couldn’t prove it.

Even after my anxiety attack, I felt rather amazing. I entered the cafeteria and joined the short line. Most of the students had already purchased their lunch. I waved at Mandy, and her face lit up. She was truly the most incredible person ever.

Armed with my lunch tray, I made a beeline for the table where the cheer team always sat, but a yank on my arm stopped me. I almost dropped the tray, but I managed to hold on to it.

One of Priest’s friends glared at me. “Because of you, Priest is in trouble. You better watch your back.”

Everything inside me wanted to lash out, but I swallowed the words back. It didn’t matter what he thought. I had a hot date with a gym teacher’s office later today. I hadn’t been looking forward to detention, but I was now.

At the cheerleaders’ table, I squeezed in beside Mandy and bumped her shoulder with mine. “Hey.”

“Did you sweet-talk my father out of detention?” she whispered into my ear.

Oh shit. Did she realize my crush?

“Wha-at?”

She chuckled. “Did you or didn’t you get out of detention?”

“I’m doing it after school.”

She pouted. “But we’re supposed to go to the mall. You’re helping me pick out a bikini for Ruby’s pool party, remember?”

“Oh no. I’m sorry, babe. I kind of promised your dad.”

“You sure you don’t want me to talk to him for you? Get you out of it?” She cupped a hand over her mouth. “Between you and me, he looks all stern and serious, but he’s a pushover. My mother’s the one I can’t get anything by, but I usually can wrap Daddy around my finger.”

“We can go some other time,” I said. “Besides, if you’d seen your father’s office, you’d realize I’m really doing him a huge favor.”