Page 26 of Dear Debbie

“I told her she needs to be faster,” he corrects me. “I suggested that losing weight might be a way to be faster. But she’s not any faster, and on top of that, she’s five pounds more than she was last year at this time. We’ve got two extra girls on the team, and someone had to go. So I had to cut her.”

“Izzy is plenty fast!” I protest.

“With all due respect, Mrs. Mullen, you’re not the soccer coach, are you?” He taps on the tinfoil of the brownie tray. “I’m a soccer coach, and I’m the one who can tell you who is fast enough. Not you.”

It suddenly makes perfect sense that Izzy was mad at me for making brownies. She was mad because my fit, perfect daughter somehow felt like she needed to be smaller.

“Look,” he says, “I agree that Izzy has potential. If she can lose the weight and get faster, maybe I’ll consider taking her back.”

“So it’s about speed.” I shift in my chair. “How fast does she need to be? Like, if we do some running, how fast does she need to—”

“Faster than she is now,” he says without further explanation. “And like I said, the best way to get faster is to lose weight. The treadmill won’t cut it.” He pauses to fold his arms across his chest. “And anyway, nobody wants to watch a bunch of chubby girls running around the soccer field. That eyeful isn’t going to make the crowd happy. Hell, I don’t want to see it.”

My head is spinning. I can’t believe he just said that about a bunch of teenage girls. I want to repeat this conversation to the principal, but he’ll just deny it. If I ever doubted Lexi’s story about the coach “accidentally” walking into the locker room, that doubt is gone. If he hadn’t kicked Izzy off the team, I’d have insisted she withdraw to avoid any further interactions with Pike.

Izzy can’t play the sport she loves because of this man. And worse, he’s making her feel bad about herself. He’s making her feel like she needs to change.

And he’s ogling teenage girls while they’re changing in the locker room.

“I’m sorry I can’t just give in to everything you want.” Pike shrugs, not looking the least bit sorry. “But that’s not the way the world works, and it’s better she learns that sooner rather than later.”

“She deserves to be on the team,” I say through my teeth, although I no longer want her on his team.

“If you want to help your daughter, help her lose that weight,” he says to me. “Stop making brownies all the time. And while you’re at it, it wouldn’t hurt for you to lose a few pounds yourself.”

My teeth are clenched so tightly, I can’t believe one of them doesn’t crack in half. I take a breath, trying to calm myself. I count to ten in my head, then get to my feet.

“Thank you for your time, Coach Pike,” I say.

He nods at me. “Anytime.”

I turn around and exit the coach’s office. All I can think of is that I need to get out of this school before I scream.

But I can’t leave now. I have one more stop to make before I go.

19

COOPER

The house is dark when I get home.

I had thought Debbie would be in the kitchen, working on dinner, and I’m relieved that she isn’t. I didn’t want to be bombarded with questions the second I walked through the door. Although there likely won’t be that many questions. Only one.

What happened with your boss?

The thought of it makes a cold sweat break out along my hairline. It’s a familiar feeling, one that I have grown to hate. All I can think is that there’s only one thing that will make me feel better. There’s only one place I can go right now.

I’ve got to get out of here.

Before I can bolt, I hear the garage door crank open. Damn, I waited too long. I brace myself, knowing that Debbie will be here in another minute. My whole body tenses up.

“Cooper?” Debbie’s voice fills the living room before I even see her. “Why are you standing there in the dark?”

“I, uh…” I don’t have a good answer for her question. Debbie flicks on the light, and I blink a few times as my eyes adjust. “I just got home.”

“Sorry I’m late,” she says. “I was at the grocery store, and it was a lot more crowded than I expected.”

Except she’s not carrying any groceries. That’s weird.