Page 73 of Love Me Not
“They don’t, no.” Technically, Carole let me know funding was low at the start of the year, but she hadn’t shared details or used the words in trouble. And I couldn’t remember the last time multiple activities were cut like this.
“The kids seem really disappointed,” he said as I pulled the marked-up script from my bag. “Are you worried about being next?”
Flipping through the ear-marked pages was a good excuse not to make eye contact. “Like I said, I’m not giving up this club without a fight. If we can get butts in the seats then hopefully we can fund ourselves for the spring. That’s the focus right now.”
The kids took their places and I headed for the stage with Trey following close behind. He stayed silent for most of rehearsal and I had no idea what was going through his mind. I could only assume he was wondering if the investments in his program were going to happen.
We were all on edge and I didn’t blame him for worrying about the future of his team. But at the same time, in my opinion, academics and art were just as important as athletics, and if we had to take a hit, then so did he. Though in a perfect situation we’d all have the funding we deserved.
That the kids deserved.
Spirits lifted a bit by the end. We were hitting our groove and everyone could feel it. This was when the performing really began. They weren’t just delivering lines. They were acting. During one highly emotional scene, even I found myself tearing up as Kaitlyn put her whole heart into the part.
The kids were drained by the time rehearsal wrapped, but in a good way. This play was going to be good. Possibly our best in years. I couldn’t have been more proud of how far they’d come.
“What if we did a fundraiser?” Trey asked as we walked to the parking lot together.
“For…?”
“The club. What if we raised our own money so they can keep going in the spring?”
The we in that sentence warmed my heart, but if the school pulled the plug on us, we’d need way more money than a bake sale could bring in.
“Sadly, it isn’t that easy. We use the auditorium for free, and I get a discount on purchasing the plays due to the school affiliation. If they cut us off, we’ll have to fully fund every aspect of the production, including not only renting a space to put on the play, but renting that space for rehearsals for up to eight weeks. We could run multiple fundraisers and most likely still come up short.”
“You never know until you try,” said Mr. Pollyanna.
“But I do, actually, and I would never put the kids through that knowing full well we’d all be wasting our time.”
“But we could?—”
“Trey,” I snapped, stopping in the middle of an empty parking space. “I appreciate that you want to help, but this is my club. I wouldn’t come to you and start suggesting how you should run your team so maybe return the favor. And speaking of the team, maybe that’s what you should be worried about right now. You’re in as much danger as the rest of us for funding cuts.”
He ran a hand over his smooth scalp. “I don’t know about that.”
My jaw tightened. “You don’t think you have anything to worry about?”
“I’m just saying that sports don’t usually get cut. At least not the football team.”
This wasn’t anything I didn’t already know, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
“Because football is more important than the arts or learning other cultures? How could I forget?” Hefting my bag onto my shoulder, I marched off toward my car.
Trey marched after me. “That’s not what I’m saying. It just is what it is.”
I spun again, forcing him to step to the side to keep from running into me.
“I hate that phrase. When something is crappy, telling another person to deal with it instead of doing something about it is lazy and hypocritical. What if you weren’t the one who’s spoiled rotten and gets everything you want because you teach boys to throw a ball around and try to kill each other? What life skill does that even give them anyway? Get ahead by decimating your opponent? Yeah, that’s how to make the world a better place.”
“I get that losing funding sucks, but you don’t need to take it out on me. I don’t make the decisions, but I’m also not going to pretend that sports don’t carry more weight at a school like this. And since you asked, I don’t just teach boys to throw a ball around. They learn teamwork and humility, gain confidence and are forced to think on the spot. To problem solve in seconds, put the good of the team above their own interests, and understand that the best way to create positive results is to work together. That’s what they take into life, and I’m damn proud of the boys I’ve helped shape into good men.”
“Good men. There’s an oxymoron for you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Forget it,” I said, pressing the button to unlock my car. Even I knew when my prejudice went too far, and Trey was right. I shouldn’t be taking my frustrations out on him, despite his representing everything I resented about school culture. The frustration just took over sometimes.
“Not so fast,” he said, swinging the bag off my shoulder and tossing it into the back seat. “Is that what you really think?”