Chapter 163 Back as Cheer Coach

Chapter 163 Back as Cheer Coach

Stephanie's POV

I froze for a second, then whipped around—and there she was. Deborah.

"Ms. Garcia!"

I hurried over to her.

She held a bouquet of white lilies in her hands, smiling at me.

"You came!" I was completely caught off guard.

"Your advisor told me about the exhibition. I figured opening day would be crazy busy, so I came early to celebrate with you." She handed me the flowers, still smiling.

"What, Stephanie—were you planning on not inviting me at all?"

My cheeks flushed. I felt awful.

I really had forgotten to invite her.

Emily and I had put the guest list together, and with so many names, some slipped through the cracks.

Even Emily—my cheer teammate who'd been right there beside me the whole time—almost got left off. Somehow, Deborah did too.

"I'm so sorry." I dropped my gaze, guilt in my chest. "I honestly just... forgot."

She gave my arm a gentle pat. "It's okay. As long as your exhibition goes well, I'm happy."

I looked at her, warmth flooding through me.

She was one of the best coaches I'd ever had in college. Strict during practice—never let us slack off, never cut us slack when we messed up. If we needed extra reps, we did extra reps. No excuses.

But she was also incredibly kind. After practice, she'd always stay late to help me ice my bad knee a little longer.

"Come inside, please." I smiled sheepishly and stepped aside. "Most of what's on display is from the past two years."

She nodded and followed me in.

She stopped in front of each piece, studying them carefully. Every now and then, she'd ask me something about color choice or composition. She clearly knew more about painting than I'd realized.

She lingered a good while in front of the oil painting of an old cottage window and glanced over at me. "There's such a quiet warmth to this piece. It's as if whoever lives there had finally found a home, a safe haven."

I blinked, caught off guard. It was like she'd seen something in the painting I hadn't even realized I was feeling.

I gave her a small, bashful smile. "Yeah. You really do get me."

Deborah patted my shoulder gently and continued through the gallery.

When she finished viewing the last piece, she turned back to me, her eyes full of emotion.

"Stephanie, you've grown so much. Your classwork was always good, but it felt... restrained. Like you were constantly afraid of making a mistake. This is different. Now your work finally has you in it."

My nose stung. Before I could say anything, she shifted gears.

"Actually, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about today."

"What is it?"

"The school's looking to bring in an outside hire—a cheer coach to help me out. I'm getting older, and managing two teams on my own is getting to be too much."

Deborah had been coaching for over a decade. The past few years, the school and parents had raised the bar on training safety and student mental health. She was stretched thin.

"Ever since you graduated, I've thought you'd be the perfect person to take over." She looked at me seriously.

"You've got the training experience. You know how to lead without overstepping. I've seen it all firsthand. And your reputation at the school is solid—especially after what happened with Jessica..."

She smiled warmly.

"You were the one who worked with the police to trace the real HIV transmission chain. You were the one who calmed down the angry parents and helped the school avoid a total meltdown. The anti-bullying policies the school put in place? Those came about because you had the courage to speak up. Your reputation here is better than you think."

I was stunned.

"Really? I... I had no idea."

"Of course you didn't." She chuckled softly.

"You graduated right after everything wrapped up. The school handled the follow-up. But honestly, if you hadn't pushed to get to the truth, the school and the district wouldn't have taken bullying seriously so quickly. You're more well-known here than you realize."

My chest felt tight—surprised and warm all at once.

I'd never thought what I did back then would have such an impact.

Whether it was investigating Jessica's case or talking things through with the parents, I just did what felt right. That's all.

I never imagined anyone would still remember. That anyone would still care.

"So..." I hesitated, nerves kicking in. "Do you really think I can do this? I've never officially coached before. I don't have any real experience..."

"You absolutely can." Her voice was firm.

"You were on the team for four years. You were captain. You were involved in every major event the school held. All you're doing is switching roles—from teammate to coach. I've spoken with the Registrar's Office, and they've agreed to let you cover two trial classes to see how it goes. If you're willing, you can start next week."

Doing what I loved—that had always been my biggest dream.

I didn't hesitate for a second. "I'm in."

She patted my shoulder. "Then it's settled. Next Wednesday, three o'clock. School gym."

---

The turnout for the exhibition was way beyond what I'd expected.

The first morning was mostly teachers and students from school. I figured that would be the peak, and the afternoon would be quieter.

Turns out, the afternoon crowd was even bigger—mostly strangers who'd come on their own.

Art students from other schools showed up in groups. A bunch of curators from nearby galleries stopped by too.

I spent the whole time weaving through the crowd—greeting people, talking about the work, handing out drinks. I didn't sit down once.

By evening, the crowd finally thinned out. The gallery went quiet again.

Emily collapsed into a corner chair, rubbing her ankles and swearing she'd never wear heels again. Rufus crouched in front of her, massaging her feet. She kicked at him lightly, embarrassed and annoyed.

"Stop moving," Rufus said, frowning as he held her foot still. "Your ankle's swollen. I told you not to wear heels. I brought flats for you—change into them. And don't wear heels tomorrow either."

Emily muttered under her breath, "Rufus, you've gotten so bossy. You used to listen to everything I said."

Rufus sighed, rubbing his forehead. "When have I ever not listened to you? There's just some stuff I'm not budging on."

Watching them bicker made me double over laughing.

Christopher appeared beside me at some point, teasing quietly, "Look at those two. Youth really is something. They bicker all day and don't have a care in the world."

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Emily and I are the same age, you know. So are you saying you feel old now?"

Christopher's face flushed. He tugged on my sleeve, looking wounded.

"Stephanie! You didn't seem to mind my age when we got together!"

Seeing him flustered like that made me laugh so hard my stomach hurt.

After goofing around for a bit, we finally settled down.

I was about to start picking up the scattered brochures when I glanced up—and stopped.

There was someone standing outside the window. Just standing there. Watching me quietly.