Page 26 of Hometown Halftime

“Really, it’s nothing. I’m good.”

Knox’s voice lowers. “If it gets worse, you need to get it checked out.”

Brynn nods. “Seriously. No powering through.”

Cam adds, “Pain isn’t normal, Kinsey.”

I groan. “God, you’re all so dramatic.”

“Pot,” Brynn says. “Meet kettle.”

Their concern sits warm and irritating in my chest—two feelings I don’t like. I’m not good at being the focus of the room unless it involves mixing drinks, cracking jokes or breaking up bar fights. Anything else feels like I’m too exposed.

“I promise,” I say finally, softer than before. “If it gets worse, I’ll check it out.”

Knox studies me another beat, then nods. “All right.”

The conversation shifts mercifully to other things—Evie’s art show, Knox and Brynn finishing the nursery for the baby they’re adopting. The tension dissolves, replaced with easy laughter and good-natured ribbing.

And thankfully, they don’t mention Riley again.

Chapter twelve

Riley

Practice runs long, but no one seems to care—not the girls, who bounce between drills, and not Kinsey. Even with the October air cooling the field, the whole team is buzzing.

We wrap up with a passing ladder drill, the girls weaving through cones, balls flying in uneven spirals. Tara nails one clean throw and celebrates. Paige rolls her eyes but grins through it. Brooke asks if we can “please run something where we get to hit each other soon.”

“Soon,” Kinsey tells her, not even pretending to hide her amusement.

When she blows the whistle to circle up, the girls gather around, hair sticking to foreheads, cheeks flushed.

“Good work today,” Kinsey says. “Next week we’ll tighten spacing and start controlled contact.”

She’s met with a couple of groans, some cheers and Brooke’s triumphant fist in the air.

Then Megan raises her hand. “Coach? When are we doing fundraising? We need money if we want real gear like the other teams. Or at least mouth guards that don’t taste like plastic death.”

Paige nudges her. “And so we can get jerseys with actual numbers on them.”

Kinsey glances at me. “Do you have any fundraising ideas?”

I shrug. “You all tell me what Cedar Falls will throw money at.”

“T-shirts,” Tara says.

“Bake sale!” another girl shouts.

“We should do a car wash!” someone adds, which spirals instantly into a debate about who would hold the signs.

Then Brooke throws a hand in the air again. “I know! My mom goes to the Yoga Barn. We could do a yoga class with the coaches. People would pay to watch Coach Weston try to balance.”

Paige snorts. “Or Coach Malone.”

The girls erupt. Even Kinsey’s mouth twitches.

I hold up my hands. “I’m capable of balancing. Somewhat.”