My Sweetheart (Alan Bosley x OC)

6

Coach stood on a makeshift stage in front of the football team and their families. Camera's from the press flashed as Coach delivered his speech.

"It's been a rare privilege, to have lived here as long as I have coaching your boys. I'll be taking the year off, after which I'll be moving to Loudon and taking the head coaching job at Loudon High."

Many of the footballers and there families quietly protested against what Coach was saying. But of course, Mr. Fred Bosley had to be the loudest and most dramatic of them all. He stood up from his chair, causing Alan to put his head in his hands with embarrassment. I giggled quietly to myself from across the room.

"I say boycott T.C Williams!"

"Tell 'em Fred." Some guy encouraged.

Big mistake. Never encourage Mr Bosley, that just gives him hope, and then it's real difficult to get him to shut up and sit down.

"Our boys ain't playing for some 'Coach Coon'!"

I rolled my eyes, watching as Gerry stood from his seat. "Coach, he stole your job. I'm not playing for him. I started a petition, and I'm sitting this season out."

Coach shook his head, walking towards him slowly and patting him on the shoulder. "The only place you're going to sit is back in that chair, Gerry. I appreciate it though."

Fred stood up again, hollering about boycotting T.C. Couldn't someone shut that man up? I knew that he was Alan's father, my best friend's father, but that didn't stop me from hating his guts. He treated Alan horribly, not to mention he was a racist pig.

"Stop this, Fred. You know none of these boys can afford to go to some other district just to play ball. They sit this one out, they put their futures on the line."

Ray stood up. Ew. I couldn't stand him either. "Coach, I'm out too. I'm not playing for no thief."

"Yeah, I bet that's the real reason isn't it." I grumbled under my breath.

"Don't do this. Don't make this any harder for me than it already is."

Alan stood up and shrugged, "Coach, if you go, I go."

Alan caught my eye, I shook my head at him, mouthing 'you will play this season whether coach is here or not, there's no room for discussion'. Alan and I were basically telepathically connected, we could understand each other from opposite sides of a room.

He scrunched up his face, mouthing 'i have to do what my dad expects of me'

I shook my head in response.

Most of the guys in the room were shouting by now, refusing to play for anyone other than my uncle. I could tell that for most of them though, the underlying racism wasn't well hidden. If it were a white coach replacing Yoast, most of them would've been indifferent.

~~~~~~

Coach sat under a tree, looking lost in thought. Sheryl had decided to go talk to him, and I followed her out from the house into the yard. Both of us prepared to comfort him.

"We'll be alright, Coach," Sheryl says soothingly.

I sat down on the grass across from him, Sheryl on my lap.

"I've coached most of these boys since they were your age, Sheryl. I've seen them grow up in front of my eyes, almost like they were my own kids."

"Almost," Sheryl said.

I scuffed up her hair playfully, and Coach laughed.

"Coach, I really do think that you've gotta swallow your pride and accept Coach Boone's offer." Uncle Bill looked at me, raising his eyebrows.

"Hear me out." I stammered, trying to form the correct words. "Did you see the amount of your boys who were willing to give up their futures, just 'cause they're too racist to even think of a man of colour having authority over them. Sir, what I'm trying to say is, if you stay. They stay. And I'd really, really love for Alan to stay, in particular. And Gerry of course. Think of the amount of futures you'd be savin'. Not just your boys' futures, the people of the future's futures. You'd go down in history, heck you may even become famous!"

Coach shook his head, laughing lightly, but I could tell my words had changed his perspective of things. I hoped that he would take what I'd said into consideration.

"This is a heck of a time to be abandoning them, to look out for themselves, ain't it?"

"So you'll consider staying on the team?" I asked, hopefully.

"I'll consider it." He nodded.

~~~~~~

Gerry, Alan and I sat on Gerry's bed. I had been trying to convince them to stay on the team, and I thought that it was working. There was a final cherry on top to be revealed.

"Okay, I have one last reason as to why the two of you should stay on the team."

"Why?" They both said in unison, bored of my speeches.

"Well, I may or may not have convinced Coach to become the assistant head coach to Boone, meaning that he'll coach the both of you on the defensive team."

"Really?!" Alan jumped up, "This calls for some country music!"

He slapped his knee, before turning to Gerry's record player and playing his favourite song. The song Gerry hated most- Act Naturally. Alan turned the volume all the way up, and outstretched his hand to me, I took it and he hoisted me up. He spun me round and we danced to the music, laughing our heads off. This was normal for Alan and I, we'd always dance together, to all different kinds of tunes.

But ever since we kissed, every normal thing I did with him felt different.

Bertier sat on his bed, videoing us with my camera, laughing at the facial expressions Alan made. In the last few seconds of the song, Alan decided to dip me. Our faces were inches apart, just like before. My eyes darted down to his lips, then back to his beautiful blue eyes.

He lent in, about to capture my lips in his, only to be interrupted by Emma entering Gerry's room. Alan lifted me back up, not taking his eyes off of me even though our moment was ruined. Thanks Emma.

"Julie, come tell Emma what you told Alan and I!" Gerry said, loud and excitedly.

"Coming," I answered, my full attention still on Alan.

It felt like I had to force my eyes away from him, and pry my hands from around his neck. I patted him on the cheek, walking away.

As I spoke to Emma, I noticed that Gerry and Alan had disappeared. I figured that they were talking about whether they were going to stay on the team. That was until I was proved wrong.

Emma and I had gone on a mini manhunt around the house looking for the two boys, when I heard them talking in the kitchen. About me.

"Gerry, I've never felt this way about someone before. She's so beautiful, and kind, and not afraid to speak her mind, she's intelligent, knows football inside and out. She's my dream girl." I could hear the dreaminess in Alan's voice, the same dreaminess that appeared in mine whenever I spoke of him.

"Listen to me, Alan. She's your best friend. How do you know that you won't mess up your friendship?"

"Oh, I know she feels the same. I just need to think of the perfect way to do it."

"Do what?" I asked, trying to sound clueless.

Alan, who was leaning against the counter in his jeans and grey shirt, stood up trying to act normal. He most definitely did not look normal. He'd picked up a tin of beans pretending to examine them. His face grew red, as he fought to think of something to say.

I laughed. "Alan sweetheart, you're as red as a tomato!"