You try.

You stand up and pull the crying girl to you, hugging her against your chest as you stroke her back and murmur words of comfort. She doesn't hug you back, keeping her hands over her face as she sobs, her body stiff. Slowly her weeping quiets, and she pulls back, stepping out of your embrace, wiping the tears from her face. She looks at you with eyes that have lost none of their wariness, and you're reminded of a stray cat uncertain about an offered saucer of milk.

"So I guess most girls are on their backs with their legs in the air when you do that? Comforting them I mean? Does it work for you?" She's trying to keep an edge to her voice but there's still an undercurrent of emotion there.

"Sometimes," you say with an easy smile. "And sometimes it's just offered as comfort. With no expectation. Just one human to another." She gives you a weak smile and a short laugh.

"Now you are dangerous," she murmurs. "Coming on all kind and wise. But sounding honest and self deprecating too. I bet you do pretty well Coach Watts. No shortage of pussy for you."

"Not really, no. And I certainly don't need the likes of Tony Carrollton to give me tips or point out prospects."

Janet takes a deep breath then exhales slowly, looking at you with eyes that hold the beginnings of trust.

"I'm sorry if I wasn't fair earlier. I was angry. Sometimes when I'm angry my mouth gets the better of me."

"Don't worry about it Miss Miller. I'm a big boy, and I don't get my feelings hurt so easily. It sounds like you have some cause to be mad."

"Yeah, but not at you. I'm sorry Coach Watts." She offers a slender hand to shake, and you take it, gently squeezing her fingers with a smile.

"Don't hesitate to come talk to me again if you want to. And if Tony Carrollton gives you any trouble, let me know."

"I can handle him," she says with a confident toss of her head, then looks at you with an impish smile. "So...just how many of the cheer team have you banged, Coach?"