“Time to stretch,” I said, even though most of the kids knew the drill by now.

The sun dipped low in the sky, and parents had already started lining up along the fence. Players rushed across the grassy lawn, joining me and the other coach, Asher, in the center of the field. This was my third week coaching summer football for nine- to twelve-year-olds. Though the camp was mostly attended by boys, there were a few girls enrolled.

I could tell you each player’s stats as if they were in the NFL. I could spot a kid with talent a mile off, though I placed a higher value on heart. It wasn’t my dream job by any means, but it was fulfilling. At least, when I got to work with kids who loved the game—like Abigail.

She was one of the smallest kids of the bunch, but she gave it her all. It didn’t matter whether she was taking a warm-up lap around the track or going for a touchdown, she never held back. She reminded me why I was doing this. Because it certainly wasn’t for the money.

When practice was dismissed, the kids rushed over to where their parents waited. Abigail hung back, scuffing her cleats against the dirt lining the side of the field. Her eyes were focused on the grass, her lips drawn into a frown. She’d performed well at practice—her footwork was great, and her speed was improving. So, why the sudden change in demeanor? Was it because her dad was late picking her up again?

“Something on your mind, kiddo?” I picked up the plastic cones and jerseys from the side of the field and threw them into a mesh bag.

She trailed behind me, silently helping as the warm, humid air of Boston swirled around us. Crickets chirped in the field, and cars passed in the distance, the world rushing by as I waited for her to speak.

“Coach Blake,” she finally said.

“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out,” I teased.

She rolled her eyes, but I detected the hint of a smile anyway. I knew it was corny, but it had worked.

“Why don’t many girls play football? Is it because we’re weaker than boys?”

I froze, trying to remain calm even as rage pumped through my veins. I turned to face her, knowing how I handled this was important. What I said would impact her, perhaps even more than I realized.

“Why would you think that?” I asked.

“Well, my brother…he said this camp is a waste of time. I’ll never be allowed to play on my school team, let alone in the NFL.”

I clenched my fists, wishing I could punch her older brother. Well, not punch him, really, although it’d feel good. But I’d definitely like to have a little chat with him. Abigail didn’t need to hear something so discouraging from her family. Especially not when she’d face negative comments like that from the world for the rest of her life.

I knew all too well what it was like. I’d faced many such remarks over the years. Usually from men who didn’t know the difference between an end-around play and a true reverse play. Men who felt threatened by strong, confident, powerful women. Some of those men were now my ex-boyfriends.

I crouched down so I was at her eye level. Abigail stared back at me, her blue eyes filled with questions. I hated seeing the doubt, the destruction of her dreams from one hurtful comment. I didn’t fault her for it, it just…made me sad. Probably because I’d allowed someone to do the same, to make me feel small and insignificant.

“Did you know I played football in the Olympics?” I asked.

Her eyes went as wide as saucers. “You did?”

I nodded. “I did. And I can’t tell you how many people told me it would never happen. How many people rooted for me to fail.”

Her face fell. “That’s mean.”

“It is,” I said. “And if I’d listened to them, I never would’ve had the opportunity to represent the USA. I never would’ve gotten to compete at that level. I never would’ve won a gold medal.”

She grinned, and I knew we’d connected on a level that transcended age. Sports unified people around the world, bringing them together despite their differences. It was something I’d seen time and again, and I loved being part of a community, of something bigger than myself.

“I’m going to tell you something my dad always impressed upon me.” She nodded, peering up at me with such trust and devotion. It was both frightening and humbling to have someone look up to you like you held all the answers.

“Your differences are your strength,” I said. “Use them to your advantage.” She lifted her chin, a look of hope and determination crossing her face.

“But…what if everyone makes fun of me for being different?”

“Some people will,” I said, resting my arm on my thigh. “But only you know what’s best for you. And sometimes it’s not the easy or popular choice, but at the end of the day, you have to do what makes you happy. Do what makes your heart sing.”

She nodded and threw her arms around me. “Thanks, Coach Blake. I want to be just like you one day,” she added in a softer voice.

My heart melted, even though I felt like a fraud. I was overeducated and underemployed, and I was barely scraping by. I couldn’t get a job for a college or pro team, despite applying for every position posted. But I couldn’t give up. Not when girls like Abigail were looking up to me.

“Abigail,” her dad called from the other side of the fence, and I wondered how long he’d been standing there. “You ready?”

“Be right there.” She gave me a huge smile before running off to meet him. With all the kids gone, Asher and I were left to lock up.

“Do you have a second?” he asked, taking the mesh bag of equipment from me.

“Of course.” My stomach churned as we walked over to the storage shed.

I really hoped he wasn’t going to ask me on a date. If so, things were about to get awkward. Though it wouldn’t be the first time I’d turned a man down. I thought back to Seth all those years ago and the night he’d proposed on the beach. The night that had been both the end and a beginning.

“So, I’d hoped to keep you on through the end of the summer,” Asher said, unable to meet my eyes. I realized what was coming. Not the beginning I’d dreaded, but rather an end I wasn’t prepared for. “But we don’t have enough funding. Enrollment is down, and with school starting soon…” He sighed. “There’s no money to pay you after this session ends.”

I hung my head, almost wishing he’d asked me on a date instead. I’d known this was a possibility, but he’d seemed so optimistic all along. It was just so depressing—to be laid off from a minimum wage job I hadn’t even realized I wanted. It was like being dumped by someone you were planning to break up with anyway.

“Thanks for letting me know,” I said as he locked the storage shed.

We crossed the field toward the parking lot. “Trust me, I’d love to keep you on. You’re a great coach, and the kids love you,” he said. “If you need a reference, please feel free to use my name.”

“Thanks, Asher.” I was halfway across the parking lot before he called my name.

“Hey, Blake.” I slowed. “Would you, uh, like to get a drink sometime?”

Damn it. I knew he wanted to ask me out.

“I have a boyfriend.” The lie rolled off my tongue.

His face fell. “Oh, okay. Well, um, see you tomorrow.”

I nodded and sent the field one last glance before climbing into my trusty 4Runner. It was the first thing I’d ever bought myself, and it had almost 200,000 miles on it. Yet I couldn't bear to part with her. Serena had seen me through breakups, cross-country moves, and too many years of school to count. Apart from Bastian and my dad, she was the only constant in my life. And she had brought me back to the place we’d started—home.

“How was practice?” Dad asked when I arrived for our weekly dinner.

The house was old but comfortable, filled with memories of my childhood, both good and bad. The kitchen table where I’d grumbled over homework, when I’d rather have been playing football in the street. The worn leather couch where Dad and I watched the Boston Rebels defeat Green Bay in the championship. The fireplace where pictures of my mom rested on the mantel along with her ashes.

I shrugged, walking into his burly arms for a hug. My stomach growled at the scent of garlic wafting through the air. “Fine, I guess.”

When he released me, his head was tilted to the side, brows scrunched together. “We both know the word ‘fine’ means anything but.”

I let out a deep sigh. “Asher told me they don’t have enough funding to keep me past this session of camp.”

“That’s a shame,” he said. “You hear back from Dallas?” he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. Guess he hadn’t seen the news.

I filled two glasses with water and set them on the table, straightening the placemats and silverware as I did so. “I didn’t get the job.”

I sank down into a chair with a clear view of the TV. As always, ESPN played in the background. My dad was as obsessed with sports as I was, and he liked to joke that he had two great loves—the Boston Rebels and me.

“Did they tell you why?” he asked, bustling around the kitchen. I would’ve offered to help, but I knew he’d only shoo me out of his way.

My dad was an amazing cook, but the gene must have skipped a generation. Every time I tried to make something, it ended in disaster. But he hadn’t given up on me yet. And he remained convinced that one day I’d make something edible without burning down the house. Just like he was convinced the Rebels were going to win the championship again. They would, but not without some significant changes.

“No,” I said. “I got a stupid form e-mail after I heard it on the news.”

“You have a PhD in Sports Psychology,” he said, carrying over two plates of steaming hot food. “What more could they want?”

“A penis.” I shrugged. There was no bitterness in my tone; I was merely stating a fact.

Time and time again, doors were closed to me because I was a woman. I didn’t get it. Yeah, I had tits. So what? I also had eyes and a brain, and I could talk football until I was blue in the face.

He stared me down. “Blake.”

“What?” I asked. “We both know it’s true. The teams all claim they want diversity, but when push comes to shove, they refuse to hire a female coach. Men don’t want to listen to a woman.”

His eyes softened. “Not everyone feels that way. Surely you know that from your internship.”

I nodded, knowing it was true. During grad school, I'd scored an internship for Jacksonville. Throughout training camp and the preseason, I’d worked well with the head coach, the players, and the staff. But come graduation, they weren’t hiring full time. There was nothing left for me in Florida, so I’d moved home.

“You know I’m proud of you, right? You never let anything stand in the way of your dreams.”

He was right about that, I thought. And the memory of Seth kneeling before me, ring in hand, came to mind. I didn’t let anyone, or anything, stand in the way of my dreams. Not then, and certainly not now. It could be lonely at times. But hey, I had my goals to keep me warm at night.

“Thanks, Dad.” I could be a sanitation employee or a CEO of a Fortune 500 company. I knew my dad would always be proud of me so long as I gave it my all. So long as I was happy.

But I wasn’t happy. Not really. And I hadn’t been for a long time. Sure, I felt restless about my career and my living situation, but it was more than that. There was something missing from my life. I could only hope that once I found a job and a place to live, I’d feel more settled.