I had come to the library hoping it would clear my head. So far it had done nothing. Jen and Andy hadn’t been too happy once they’d learned I’d walked out on Doctor Jacobs. I’d tried to explain to them that he wasn’t helping me. It had been over a year and I still hadn’t remembered anything significant. It wasn’t that I was against the whole therapy thing. It just wasn’t working for me. I could see how it might work for others, encouraging them to own up to the problems they were facing and move forward with their lives, but I wasn’t like them. My situation wasn’t the same, and no amount of therapy could help me come to terms with what had happened to me.

Once I’d explained this to them, they seemed to be on the same level as me. It wasn’t like I was throwing in the towel and giving up altogether; I had just realised that it was time I helped myself. It was up to me to find the answers to the questions that burdened me. After all, there was nothing physically or mentally wrong. The accident hadn’t damaged a part of me that wasn’t fixable. Not really. It was all me. I was the one who had forced myself to forget every aspect of my life. It was me who had forced my memories into hiding for whatever reason, and it was down to me to fix it.

Offloading my feelings to Jen and Andy had helped somewhat. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders and I was finally able to breathe again. I was thankful they understood, though, and it was clear they were happy with my honesty and that I’d finally managed to tell them how I felt. That was something I’d always struggled to do. Opening up to them—or anyone for that matter. Who knew? Maybe this was the beginning of something positive.

My hand came up to my chest and rested against the locket sat in the centre, and I sighed wistfully. Hope. I would always have hope.

My phone pinged and I dropped my hand, slipping it into the front pocket of my bag. I glanced down at it. It was a text from Brie.

There was no way in hell I was going to the game. The thought of being surrounded by strangers invading my personal space freaked me out. Brie would have to find someone else to go with. The last thing I wanted was to be around Taylor. Luckily, for the last few days I had managed to avoid seeing him. Brie had convinced herself that I was way more interested in Taylor than I let on. It was ridiculous really. I hadn’t known Brie that long. In the great scheme of things, she didn’t really know me at all, but I liked to think that even she knew me better than that. This was Taylor Lawson, after all. I had standards. At least, I hoped I did. Getting caught up in all the drama that followed him wasn’t something I would allow myself to do. That didn’t mean I couldn’t admire him from afar, though… Where I was safe.

I decided to ignore Brie’s text and shoved my phone back into my bag, opening up my textbook. Studying the French Revolution for Friday’s test seemed far more rewarding than going to some football game or stupid party.

"Miss Henderson?" a deep, booming voice said. I glanced up from my notepad, seeing Coach Thorn standing there, tall and stocky with a frown marring his forehead.

“Umm... Yeah…?” I stuttered, my frown matching his.

What did Coach want with me? I didn’t think we’d even exchanged a glance let alone words before.

“One of the boys is having some issues in English and maths. Come to think of it, he’s failing in pretty much every damn subject. Now, you know how important the team is to this school, and if someone doesn’t give it a hundred and ten percent off, as well as on, the field then Stokes will come down on me like a tonne of shit.”

My mouth opened in shock. Did he actually just swear at me?

“I can’t afford to lose this kid, so we need to make sure that doesn’t happen. Now, I know he’s behind on a few assignments already. The priority now is to get those done and handed in ASAP. I’ll get the notes drafted up and have them sent to you in the next few days. I need you to make sure he doesn’t fall behind again. Do you understand?”

Coach looked at me like I had two heads and one eye.

“Eh... yeah, I understand. You want me to help him study?”

“You got it,” he said, pointing a finger.

I wanted to rip it off. Instead, I smiled. “Sure. When?”

“Come and see me on Monday, and I’ll have his schedule ready for you. I trust you can work around practice and upcoming games?”

“Yes, Sir.” I nodded. It wasn’t as if I had my own stuff to deal with.

“Perfect. And, Miss Henderson? This one is a loose cannon, but I think if anyone can handle him, it’s you.”

“Sir,” I confirmed and glanced down at the stack of papers in front of me. When I looked up, Coach was already gone. Great. Thanks.

This wasn’t the first time I’d had to help someone from the team. I had sworn I wouldn’t put myself through that again and yet here I was. Yes, Coach. No, Coach. Three bags full, Coach.