Page 46 of Crossing the Line

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Yeah. I was.

“I get that, Preach. I do. Addiction is atoughthing to deal with.” He blew into his hands, then faced me. “It’s okay to feel angry about and ashamed of what she did. Don’t beat yourself up for that. But you can’t run from it. You need to deal with it. Work through it with her, because I can guaran-damn-tee you she feels even worse than you do.”

I hadn’t thought of that. Actually, though, now that I thought about it, I had seen the shame in her eyes, but I was too angry to care. She was a well-known surgeon, looked up to, and to do what she did… Of course she was feeling badly. And I’d been treating her so badly.

Both Mom and Dad.

“If I hadn’t found you, you might have laid out here long enough to seriously get hurt, Preach.” He shook his head. “You’re a smart guy, but you are throwing away your talent.”

Tears stung my eyes as the emotional tidal wave of everything that’d happened since our hockey team had won the state championship plowed into me.

“To be blessed enough to havetwotalents that could possibly get you through college, you’re an insult to those who try hard andneverget a scholarship.”

“Huh?”

“Track, Preach. You are a good hockey player. It’s gotten you everywhere and everything. That’s huge. But to be equally as talented at another sport is a rarity.” He shook his head. “And you’re throwing it away.”

I gulped, remembering Grace saying something similar. Hearing it a second time, and from Coach, too, really hit home, though. Talented at track…enough to get into college with it? That didn’t make sense. It was late in the school year. How would I get the money to go to school?

I could take out loans, but would I be able to get them on my own or would I need my parents to cosign? Could they cosign or did Mom wreck their credit?

Maybe I could work? Get a job on campus? Yeah…go to school full time, possibly run track, and make ten or twenty thousand dollars a year to pay for my tuition and room and board? Was that even possible? And, if it was, did I have that kind of discipline?

I suddenly felt like a spoiled brat. Someone who’d been given a cushy life and parents who wanted me to focus on school and sports, instead of working and saving up for college.

I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. I’d never imagined doing anything but hockey. But maybe if Coach thought I had a chance at doing something with track, I should take it, right?

But—

“Good.” Coach grasped my shoulder again. “You’re thinking. That’s very good.”

“You think…I can get a scholarship?”

“Not this late in the game,” he said, walking toward the end of the tunnel. The rain was letting up. “But if you pull good times this season, we can send them out to some coaches. You might get asked to try out for a walk-on position somewhere. It won’t mean any scholarship money, but that could come the next year if you do well.”

I drew in a deep breath, and the cool air made me cough.

“You’ve never really focused on honing your track skills. It’s always been second to hockey. But if you worked really hard at it, and with your raw talent, you never know what could happen.” Coach leaned forward, closing the space between us. “You owe it to yourself to try. To the team,hell, to your concussion. You can’t let it beat you.”

My heart hammered. My head pulsed. I was letting the concussion beat me, wasn’t I?

We came to a stop at the end of the tunnel. “You need to make some decisions, Preach.”

He was right.

He palmed my head and gave me a little shake. “But first, clean up that field you trashed.”

Chapter Sixteen

Grace

Two mugs of tea and about an hour later, the rain finally stopped.

“Thank you so much again, Hana,” I said. “For the clothes, the tea, and letting me wait out the storm here.”

“You are so welcome, dear,” she replied.

I waved my goodbyes as I headed down the stairs. My muscles practically groaned as my feet hit the hard concrete. Luckily, the rain had melted most of the remaining snow, meaning the track might be open as early as tomorrow. It would feel good to start some speedwork.


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