Chapter 10
Really, Henry didn’t need to go home.
He needed to get to baseball practice.
His concern for Rachel was real enough and it outweighed the need to go to practice. That’s what he told himself. But he needed that scholarship. He sprinted down the open hallways to the gym.
Forty-five minutes late.
“Why didn’t you just skip practice altogether?” Coach Barnhard said. Henry stood opposite of him while he hit balls to the players who had already devolved into sweaty messes. “You could have hung out with your friends while all of us are training.”
“Coach, please, a friend of mine came into class and she was—”
“Screaming and yelling?” Coach Barnhard interrupted.
Henry gaped in disbelief. All his thoughts tumbled and his tongue stuck in his mouth like thick taffy. How did Coach . . .
“Had to be escorted about by the Blue Vests?” he continued.
Thwack. A ball jumped off the coach’s bat. He kept talking while swinging. “Did you go to the school office about this?”
Henry scrambled to recover. “Yes, I did.”
“Well, what did they say?”
“They wouldn’t listen. They said that nothing happened. But I think she’s in danger!”
Tha-Whack!
A ball screamed through the gymnasium, sailing over the heads of the defenders and ricocheting with a deafening bang. The players covered their heads as the ball bounced downward.
Coach Barnhard slammed the barreled end of his bat on the ground and leaned over the handle to give Henry his full ire.
“Look, Murphy, I heard about it.”
“How did you—”
“See, I’ve got a group of ballplayers over there,” the coach said, pointing to Henry’s teammates, “and they were in class today, too. You’re not the only kid in the school. Trevor told me all about it. Said it was a nervous breakdown.”
Trevor.
A torrent of rage silently racked Henry’s body. He glowered at Trevor with sideways eyes. What an opportunistic, insensitive . . .
“But look at him, Murphy,” Coach Barnhard said. “He’s out there.” Trevor posed with his hands on his hips, sweating like a hog. He knew what was happening. The smirking beard was obvious from across the gym. “He made it to baseball practice on time.” Coach Barnhard lifted the bat again and put it over his shoulder. “Let the professionals handle it from here, Murphy. Now get out there unless you want to lose more playing time.”
Henry didn’t say another word.
He was thankful when practice ended. He ran into the locker room to get changed and leave the horrible day behind.
Coach Barnhard turned the corner of the lockers while Henry was changing out of his sweaty gear.
“That’s forty-five minutes off the next game, Murphy,” he said. “You sit the bench for the first half because you showed up late to my practice.”
It felt like he had been cut down by an axe, rived right through. “But the scholarship! If I don’t play, I might not get it. Coach, please, there might even be professional scouts there.”
“You’ll play. Just forty-five minutes late.”
“But they’re not interested in second-stringers. They won’t care about who is coming in halfway through!”
“Then you shouldn’t have missed practice.”
“But, Coach Barnhard, it was an emergency! Isn’t there an emergency excuse or something?”
“That comes from the office. They can give you an excuse. But you said they don’t believe you.”
Henry hung his head.
There was nothing left to say.
Coach Barnhard softened his tone. “Look, Murphy. You’re a good ballplayer. But I’m a man of principle. And if you’re starting to go off the deep end, then I’ve got to make sure you know that I won’t stand for it.”
“Go off the deep end? What do you mean?”
“Whatever you’re mixed up in. You almost get into a fight in the hallways. Your friend loses her mind and has a nervous breakdown. You show up late to practice. Then one of them Blue Vests comes here looking for you.”
“A Blue Vest was looking for me?”
“Yeah, some guy. Hair slicked back, brown glasses. Never seen him before.”
The cold sensation played on the back of his neck—dancing, spinning.
“He said you had something to do with the whole thing. I told him you should’ve been at practice but I didn’t know where you were. But I’m not going to be party to you dodging authority.”
Henry could barely breathe. If he had shown up on time to practice . . .
“You can’t be like that, Murphy, not on my team.”
“Yes, Coach.”
“You’ve got to dig down deep inside for something else.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Be something different.”
“Okay.”
“You even hearing me, Murphy?”
“Yes, Coach.”
“Okay, well, get out of here. And try to get your head on straight.”
Henry sprinted out of the school.