summer stained blue

chapter six - phone calls

By Monday afternoon, Finn's professional life had taken a nosedive into a total disaster.

What had possessed him to think that he could coach a high school soccer team? He must have been delusional. Maybe he could claim a psychotic break and back out before things got worse than they already were.

He dropped into the driver's seat, immediately exhaling the breath he had held all afternoon. It wasn't hard to tell that the soccer players didn't respect him (who would, really, when he could barely make it ten steps down the field without tripping?). He had spent the entire practice trying to prove that he knew what he was talking about, which was a really difficult thing to do when he actually didn't know what he was talking about.

Where was his father when he needed him? Typical, Finn thought to himself as he grabbed his phone from the passenger seat. Typical of his father to disappear right when Finn needed him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before it could turn into something more.

Sitting in his car, phone in hand, Finn debated his next move for a few long minutes. He hated admitting that he was wrong -- that he was in over his head -- but he reluctantly pressed the call button. It only took a couple of seconds for the line to connect.

"Hey," Liam answered, immediately asking, "How was practice?"

Finn just groaned. "Hold on a second." It took him a minute to remember how to add someone else to a call, but he tapped through the buttons to send out a second call.

Dylan's voice came through the phone a minute later. "Hello?"

"Hey. Can you both hear me now?"

"Yeah, yeah. I can hear you. What's going on?"

Liam interjected from the other line, "Wait. Is that Dylan?"

"Why am I on a call with --" Dylan stopped abruptly, then announced, "I'm hanging up."

"No, no! I need you both, so you need to suck it up and tolerate each other for two minutes."

"Finn," Dylan whined. He sounded ridiculously childish, and Finn could picture him stomping his feet on the ground.

"Please."

His two friends exhaled simultaneous sighs. Finn would have laughed if he weren't so irritated and overwhelmed. Always the peacemaker, Liam was the first to speak:

"Okay, what's up, F? What's wrong?"

Finn didn't need any more encouragement to launch into the story of his day. He told his friends about his first day of practice, and he told them how utterly embarrassing he was. They both told him (in the kindest ways possible, of course) that he had no idea what he was doing. Even though his friends had warned him, he just couldn't leave his dad's old team with no one looking out for them.

He didn't tell them that it was hard. The whole day was really, really hard. From the time he was a little kid, that field was his father's home turf. It was even harder not knowing how his father would react to Finn taking over for him: would he be happy? Proud?

Or would he hate Finn even more for never living up to his hopes and expectations?

"Do you want me to come out and practice with you before school?" Liam offered when he was done explaining his problems. "I know you've never been, um . . . exceptional at soccer before, but maybe with some practice?"

"I've never been able to grasp even the most basic soccer skills, Liam. What makes you think I can suddenly do it now?"

"Alright, yeah. That's valid. Bad suggestion."