Working out how to get to and from the King of Prussia Mall turned out to be easier than Jeff had thought it would be. Jeff’s mom was available to pick Andi up and drop the two kids at the mall and Andi’s dad said he’d be able to pick them up a few hours later.
Jeff thought about suggesting a movie after lunch but decided not to push his luck. They agreed to eat and then spend some time walking around the mall. The drop-off would be at eleven thirty, the pickup at two. Jeff was fine with that. He suspected there was a lot to talk about.
They walked straight to Andy’s—Jeff had suggested arriving at eleven thirty to avoid the Saturday lunch rush—but found it already crowded. They ordered a small six-slice pizza.
“You can take home what we don’t finish,” Andi suggested.
Jeff suspected leftovers wouldn’t be an issue. He had been eating so much lately his parents were convinced he was in a growth spurt. He certainly hoped so.
They found a table in as quiet a place as possible and Jeff started to eat, in part because he was starving, in part because he knew Andi had a lot to tell him. Michael Roth, whose older brother—an eighth grader—was dating Lisa Carmichael, had texted him the night before to say that Lisa had told his brother that all hell was breaking loose on the girls’ team.
“This is really good,” Andi said after a couple of tentative bites.
“You haven’t been here before?”
“I have, with my brothers, but not in a while. I’d forgotten.”
Jeff reminded himself to slow down and not wolf his food. Even so, he was reaching for a second slice before Andi was halfway through her first.
As he picked up the second slice, he finally said, “So, what’s up?”
Andi nodded, put her pizza down, and took a sip of the Coke she had ordered to drink.
“It’s a long story,” she said. “Let me start from the beginning.”
She began with Coach Josephson’s locker room reference to Chester Heights “only” having two black players, Eleanor’s objection to the term, and Coach Josephson refusing to apologize or back down, which led to the five players not suiting up for the first half. She finished with her surprise when Jamie Bronson voted in favor of letting them play the second half, her mixed emotions about playing, and the fact that it was clear there was going to be more trouble next week.
“What do you think she’ll do?” Jeff asked after Andi said she expected trouble from her coach on Monday.
Andi picked up a second slice. Jeff was about to pick up number three. It occurred to him that Andi might want a third slice. That would be disappointing.
“She’s not the type to let something like this go,” Andi said. “On the other hand, Eleanor, Maria, Lisa, and I are four of her best five players.”
“Who’s the fifth?” he asked, then realized it was irrelevant.
“Bronson,” Andi answered. “If she kicks us all off the team, they won’t win a game,” she continued. “She won’t want that, not to mention having to explain to people why she did it.”
“Yeah, ‘I made a racist comment and they objected’ probably isn’t the best reason for kicking people off the team.”
She laughed. “My guess is she’d claim we overreacted to an innocent comment, but you’re right.”
“And if we called Michael Barkann…”
She pointed a finger at him. “Don’t even go there,” she said.
“Only if she kicks you off,” Jeff added, and Andi sat back in her chair for a moment.
While she took a few more bites, Jeff, having finished slice number three and not willing to start number four as if he were entitled to it, changed the subject—slightly.
“What’s the assistant coach—Coach Axelson, right?—what’s she like?”
“Very different, I think,” Andi said. “The world—our world anyway—would be a very different place if she was in charge.”
“So why don’t the four of you—five if Lee will stick with you—go and talk to her? She’s probably as frustrated as you are. She might be willing to help.”
“But how can she help?”
“Not sure. I think you need to find out if she’d be willing, first, then figure out a plan.”
She pointed at the last slice. “You eat that,” she said.
“You sure? I’ve already had three.”
“And you look like you could eat three more,” she said, laughing. “I’m fine. Go for it.”
Yet another reason, he thought as he grabbed the last slice, that he liked this girl so much.
They sat and talked some more when the last slice of pizza was gone. Jeff was sorely tempted to order a single slice but remembered what his mother always told his father about waiting twenty minutes at the end of a meal for his brain to get the message to his stomach that it was full.
They did go back for refills on soda but lost their table while they were waiting at the counter. By now, the entire dining area was packed.
“Let’s walk for a while,” Andi said.
They walked and talked, stopping in a sporting goods store—and buying nothing—although Jeff gawked at a $170 pair of sneakers. They stopped to see what was at the movies, even though there was no time to go see one even if they wanted to do so.
“You see Toy Story 4?” she asked.
Jeff was surprised to see that it was still playing because it had been out for a year. He was tempted to say no, but he’d seen it and, truth be told, had really liked it.
“I went with my mom,” he said finally.
“Come on,” she said, smiling. “If you saw the first three, you had to go to see the new one.”
“So you went?” he said.
“Yeah, I did. I thought it was great. I liked the ending.”
Jeff gave in. “Yeah, it was pretty cool. I got a little choked up.”
They walked on, finally finding an empty bench. It was one thirty.
“We need to start back to the pickup point pretty soon,” she said. “We’re at the far end of the mall.”
“Takes ten minutes tops,” he said—in no rush to end the excursion. Date? No. It wasn’t a date, he reminded himself.
They returned to the subject of Monday and Coach Axelson.
“If we’re going to talk to her, we need to do it away from school,” Andi said. “Anybody sees us—and I mean anybody—we’re in big trouble. And if it’s someone on the team … forget it.”
“Text her,” Jeff said. “See if she has an idea.”
Andi shook her head. “No. Not until I talk to the others to see what they think.”
Jeff thought that made sense. “Then you need to get the others to sit with us at lunch Monday. That won’t look suspicious. You’ve done it before.”
She nodded. “True. The problem is if Coach Josephson does something before then.”
That would be a problem. “I don’t think it’ll happen before practice,” he said.
“I hope you’re right,” she said.
Jeff hoped he was right, too.
Unfortunately, something did happen before practice on Monday. But the news didn’t come from Coach Josephson.
It came from Coach Axelson.
Andi was the first to arrive at the lunch table and she instantly handed Jeff her cell phone—lunch period being the only one when students were allowed to look at their phones.
“Just saw this when I turned the phone on,” she said.
Jeff took the phone and saw an e-mail that was addressed to the whole team.
Ladies, I’m writing to let you know that I submitted my resignation as your assistant basketball coach this morning. It’s been an honor and a privilege to work with all of you these past few weeks, but I believe it is best for all involved if I focus going forward on my teaching responsibilities. I have no doubt that whoever replaces me will do an outstanding job working with you. I hope this will not be the end of our relationships. I have enjoyed every second working with all of YOU …
Jeff read it twice before handing it back to Andi. Eleanor, Maria, and Lisa were a few steps behind Andi, all carrying trays and stunned looks.
“What do you think happened?” Jeff asked.
Maria shrugged. “I think she just couldn’t deal with Josephson anymore.”
“I think putting YOU in all caps says it all,” Lisa added.
Jeff thought that was accurate. “So, what are you going to do?” he asked. “This pretty much wipes out the plan to go to her for help, doesn’t it?”
“Yes and no,” Andi said. “I still think we should go and see her, if only to find out why she quit. She owes us that much, I think.”
“She may not see it that way,” Eleanor said.
“I think she will,” Maria said. “She’s a pretty reasonable person.”
“Okay, let’s say we go to her and she says—surprise—she just couldn’t deal with Josephson anymore,” Lisa said. “Then what?”
“We could go to Mr. Block and tell him he needs to make Coach Axelson the coach and get rid of Coach Josephson,” Maria said.
Andi was shaking her head. “I think the last thing he’s going to want to do is get involved with another sixth-grade coach,” she said. “I know he didn’t enjoy what happened with Coach Johnston during soccer season.”
For a moment, Jeff wondered if it was time to involve his father and NBC Sports–Philly again. He was pretty sure that Andi would hate that idea.
“I think you go see Coach Axelson,” he said. “After you talk to her, then you decide what to do next. But I think you better do it right away, because if you don’t, there might be a new assistant coach at practice today and that’ll be that.”
Andi looked at the other girls. “What do you think?” she asked.
“I think we better get going,” Eleanor said. “We’ve got twenty minutes before fifth period starts.”
They decided to look first in the faculty staff room, which was off-limits to students but the likely place a teacher would be during the lunch period.
It was at the far end of the hall from the cafeteria. When they got to the door, they all stopped as if not sure what to do next. The double doors didn’t have a window, so there was no way to see if Coach Axelson was inside. They all looked at each other.
“Go ahead, Andi, see if she’s in there,” Maria said.
“Me?” Andi said. “Why me?”
“This was your idea,” Lisa said.
“Oh, yeah,” Andi said, kicking herself for having the idea. “I forgot.”
She took a deep breath, pushed the door on the right open, and peeked her head inside. The place was packed, teachers eating their lunch and talking to one another. Andi’s eyes scanned the room while several teachers were clearly giving her curious looks.
She spotted Coach Axelson sitting at a table with the other earth science and geology teachers. She guessed this only because her earth science teacher—Ms. Marx—was sitting directly across from her. She was about to call out when she heard a voice say, “Carillo, what are you doing here?”
She knew without looking who it was: Coach Josephson.
She’d come too far to back out now. She stepped into the room and, without looking to her left, which was where she’d heard Coach Josephson’s voice, waved at Coach Axelson’s table.
“Coach Axelson,” she said. “Have you got a minute? Several of us would like to talk to you.”
She added the second sentence so Coach Axelson—and Coach Josephson—would know she wasn’t the lone ranger in this.
“She’s not Coach Axelson anymore,” Coach Josephson said.
Andi still hadn’t looked in her direction, rudeness she knew she’d almost certainly pay a price for at practice that day—if she was allowed to practice.
Coach Axelson stood up. “It’s okay, Amy, I’ve got this,” she said. “Andi, I’ll meet you outside.”
If Coach Josephson objected, Andi didn’t hang around long enough to find out. She bolted for the door.
“Well?” the other three said in unison as soon as she walked back into the hallway.
“She’s coming,” Andi said. She was breathing heavily, as if she’d been running. No doubt from nerves.
It took a full minute for Coach Axelson to make it into the hallway. Several other teachers came out first, each pausing for a moment to look at the four girls as if they each had two heads.
Finally, Coach Axelson came through the door just as Andi was about to be convinced that Coach Josephson would show up first.
She looked at the four girls and nodded her head. “I figured it would be you four,” she said. “Let’s go up to my classroom.”