I walk into the rink expecting Coach Ramirez. One coach. One conversation. One chance to cry a little, blame Lisa, and walk out with a warning at worst. Easy. I practiced my lines the whole Uber ride over. I even made myself tear up a little before walking in...just enough to look fragile, not messy.
But the second I step into the coaches’ office, my stomach drops. Because it’s not just Coach Ramirez. Coach Daniels is here. And the team lawyer. All three of them sitting behind the desk like a tribunal. This is not good. Ramirez’s jaw is tight. Daniels looks like he hasn’t slept in days. The lawyer has a folder open in front of him, and I can see my name printed on the top. I force a shaky smile. “Coaches… I...I came as soon as you texted.”
Ramirez doesn’t smile back. “Sit.” I do.
Daniel
