Chapter Five

On Thursday, a coupleof weeks after being summoned by his mom, Dre returned to Katy for Jamaal's game tomorrow night and the school fundraiser on Saturday. He drove up to his alma mater, Montgomery High. The school's red brick exterior looked the same as when he'd attended. He knew his friend Zack would be here tonight—coaches burned late nights during football season.

Dre parked in the back and entered the heavy steel door. The strong scent of Clorox blasted him.

Painted peacock blue with white benches and lockers, the locker room had been updated since he'd attended Montgomery. He followed echoing laughter to Zack's office and peeked inside. Sadie sat on the desk with a slice of pizza in one hand, a bottle of soda in the other, and five men hanging on her every word. Dressed in purple scrubs, her brown, wavy hair framed her delicate features and brown eyes. "Zack turned white as a bleached sheet."

"I'm not a fan of snakes." Zack ate a bite of pizza.

"It was a baby." She held her pizza and drink a short length apart. "It couldn't have been six inches."

The coaches laughed again.

"It was more like two feet," Zack defended. His dirty blonde hair had darkened over the years.

"I'm not a fan of snakes either," Dre said from the doorway, if for no other reason than solidarity with his friend.

Sadie squealed before jumping off the desk, putting her food and drink down, and rushing toward him. "Gentlemen, I believe you know Andre Biel." She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight. "When did you get into town? How long are you here for? When is your next Sunday off so I can plan a dinner?"

"Honey, you've asked him three questions and not let him answer one yet." Zack now stood behind Sadie and reached out his hand. They shook and pulled each other in to slap each other's shoulder.

Dre greeted the coaches he knew, and Zack introduced him to the ones he didn't. They hung around a short while, then left, leaving him with Sadie and Zack. He was happy his best friend and wife were back together. Months ago, after losing their two-year-old son, they'd gone through such a dark time that they'd separated. They'd only recently reunited when they raced on the reality show Chasing Sunsets together.

With everyone gone, Sadie faced Dre. She looked into his eyes, and suddenly, hers filled with tears. "I'm sorry for ... for ... everything."

On the last episode of Chasing Sunsets, she'd vowed to apologize to Dre and their other friends for shutting them out of her life after Dylan died.

"You don't need to apologize," he assured her.

"I do." Tears tracked down her face. "You tried so hard to talk to me, and I kept pushing you away."

"Pain will do that, honey." The familiar empathy he felt for her and Zack pulled at him, yet much weaker than right after Dylan's death. Thankfully, their grief had lessened, although he doubted it would ever fully leave either of them.

She wiped her wet eyes. "Pizza?"

He picked up a slice. "Now, tell me about this snake."

Zack opened a cooler, grabbed a bottle of soda, and held it out to him. Sadie explained about the snake in their mud room and how she'd been the one to kill it because Zack wanted to call a professional. They ate and talked, laughing most of the time.

Sadie finished eating and hugged Dre one last time. "Love you."

"You, too."

She kissed Zack. "I'll meet you at home. Don't be too late." She turned to leave.

Zack grabbed her hand and spun her to face him. "Be careful."

She smiled and kissed him again before she walked out.

"It's good to see you two together."

"Who would have guessed a reality show would repair our marriage?" Zack sighed. "Thanks again for suggesting us for it."

"Kasey's the one who learned Chasing Sunsets was secretly pairing separated couples to be contestants." Dre and Kasey had convinced Zack to race, and Sadie's friend, Cally, persuaded her. They'd arrived for the reality show not knowing the other would be their partner. The race made the couple face all they'd been painfully avoiding after such a devastating loss.

"Three to go," Zack said, referring to the touchdown receptions Dre needed to surpass Marshall Faulk's record.

"Four. I'm going for Johnny McNally's record."

Zack shook his head. "Blood McNally doesn't count. The NFL wasn't instated yet."

"Still, if you're going to go for a record, you might as well leave no argument."

"True. Kasey and I think you'll have the record beat by November."

His insides warmed at his friends' faith in him.

"I can't believe the announcers aren't talking about it at all your games."

"I don't think anyone knows or is paying attention to my stats." Dre smiled. "I like it that way. Less pressure."

"Bullshit. You put more pressure on yourself than anyone else possibly could."

Dre wanted to argue but couldn't. Zack was right.

"Jamaal's playing well." Zack drank from his soda bottle. "I kind of wish we hadn't given him so many pointers over the years. I fear he'll use them against my team when we play Goodson."

Zack and Kasey were like uncles to Jamaal. "How much do you know about Coach Moon?"

"Not much. Cal might be a better person to ask."

"I don't like how he's playing Jamaal on varsity." Dre scratched his forehead.

"I agree. The growth from fourteen to eighteen can be considerable. I'd never put a freshman against seniors. Cal never played a student so young on varsity either. Not even you."

He told Zack about Moon's suggestion Jamaal repeat his classes from last year so he could focus more on football.

"Damn." Zack rubbed his eyes. "I've never heard of a coach doing that."

"Part of me wants to report him or confront him. Another part wants Jamaal to make his own decisions." He shook his head. "I just want them to be the right ones."

"He's a teenager, so the odds are slim. Or have you forgotten your time in jail years ago?"

"I'll never forget. It was the single most influential night of my life. Kept me on the right track." He probably owed Mac Wallace a thank you. "Funny thing, I drove by a Hummer at Goodson the other day and could've sworn it was Mac. I didn't get a decent enough look to be sure."

"He better not return. He promised." Zack sat forward.

"Can you really ever trust a drug dealer?"

~

Bushes along the backof the school glistened with dew in the sun while the static morning air hung heavy with humidity. Quinn wasn't used to the feeling of being in a sauna every time she went outside. Granted, it was less hot now than July and August had been. Still, the early October temperatures reached the eighties most days. Such a contrast to the weather in Bloomington, Minnesota, where she grew up.

She'd visited her grandparents over the years, but her first winter living here would be interesting. Her grandparents moved to Katy twenty-five years ago. While they didn't care for the extremely hot and humid days of summer, they also didn't miss the snowy, subzero winters back home.

Students, teachers, and parents loaded down with everything from tents to coolers entered and exited the school. The bustling activity reminded her of school and church fundraisers, swap meets, and farmer's markets she used to attend.

Upon entering the school, the cool air welcomed her. She pinched the neck of her Lemur t-shirt and pulled on it a few times, trying to vent cool air onto her skin as she hurried to her classroom. Once she secured her purse in her locker, she headed toward the gym. Overflowing with people in shirts like hers, tables were set up everywhere. Some held clothing and food while others had games for children to play.

Amanda Krane, one of the counselors, directed people from behind a table by the door. Her short black bob was stacked in the back and tapered to longer hair in the front. She smiled when she spotted Quinn. "Thanks for coming out today. Do you mind working the cakewalk? Do you know what to do?"

"Oh, sure. Where is it?"

"Out the door and to the left." Amanda pulled out a big plastic jar filled with dozens of folded pieces of paper. "It's under a tent and has a wooden floor with squares and numbers painted on it. You can use your phone for music. People pay two tickets to play."

During cakewalks, people enter and stand on a number. The music starts and everyone walks around the floor in the same direction and stops when the music stops. Then a number is pulled and whoever stands on that number wins a cake.

"How are things going?" Amanda stood. "We haven't spoken since progress reports came out."

Whose side would the counselor be on?

"Things are okay."

Amanda leaned forward, speaking quietly. "I'm glad you stood your ground with Moon. I'm sure it wasn't easy."

"Thank you."

"I'm sure Principal Cheek came at you as well."

Quinn warily bobbed her head. Cheek was Amanda's boss too.

"You have my complete support. This is my first year at Goodson, and I'm not sure how most things are done, but I can't abide passing a student who hasn't met the requirements."

She felt compelled to defend Jamaal. "Jamaal's a good kid and very smart."

"Yeah, from everything I can tell, he is. I'm the one who changed his classes. We should have lunch sometime. We newbies need to stick together." A pack of teenagers mobbed the table. "I'll come by your room this week, and we can make plans."

Looking forward to getting together and having a co-worker friend, she nodded to Amanda before darting around people in the gym and exiting the door to outside. Heat blasted her again. She found the tent with a wooden floor, stepped over to the table on the side, and set down the jar.

"Hi, Quinn." The familiar deep voice startled her.

Her heart missed a beat. Oh heavens, what an amazing surprise. She didn't think she'd ever see him again. Excited, yet trying not to gush at how insanely pleased she was he was here, she spun toward Dre. "I didn't realize you were going to be here today."

He smiled as he rounded the table to be out of the flow of people traffic. He wore the same Lemur shirt as everyone else. It spoke to the man's character that he didn't wish to stand out, although he would because he was Andre Biel. "Jamaal asked me to help. I'm three down at the football throw." He pointed to the right.

People slowed as they passed and stared at Dre. He didn't seem to notice, his focus stayed on her. "It's great to see you again."

She was about to say the same when Jamaal rushed up. "Uncle Dre, are you ready?"

"Sure. I'll be right there. I'm saying hi to Ms. Weldon."

The boy turned toward her. "Oh, hello."

"How are your classes going?" she asked.

"I wasn't as behind as I thought I'd be."

"Remember, I'm around if you need tutoring."

"Thanks." He hurried away as fast as he'd come.

"His Algebra II teacher tells me he's doing well," she reported. "Making an A."

"Thanks for checking on him." He looked toward the football throw where two of the coaches were hanging a banner. "Is either one of the men at the booth Coach Moon?"

"He's the one with red hair."

"Did you know he's the one who suggested Jamaal repeat his classes from last year?"

"Jamaal mentioned it."

"I want Jamaal to fight his own battles and make his own decisions about people and his life, but another part of me just wants to tell Moon to—"

"Hey, are you A.B.?" someone called.

Dre waved to the man who asked before he turned back to Quinn. "I better go." He took off his sunglasses, his eyes meeting hers. He stepped close enough for her to catch the scent of his alluring cologne. "I hope we can talk after the festival."

Her stomach flipped. "I'd like that."

"See you then." He walked toward the man who'd called his nickname, shook his hand, and headed toward the booth he'd indicated. Excited people gathered around him.

What am I doing?

No athletes, Quinn.

The festival started at nine, and she remained busy. Every hour, two students arrived to take a shift. Often, she peered over to where Dre continued to sign autographs and pose for photos. A crowd stayed around him.

The morning went quickly. Soon a whistle blew, and Mr. Cheek's voice came over the loudspeaker. "Thank you for coming today and making this festival a success. With only a half-hour left, please be sure to visit your favorite booths one last time. A special thanks to Andre Biel who remains at the football throw signing autographs and taking photos. You can also bid on autographed jerseys and other items he brought from the Scorpions at the silent auction being held in the cafeteria. Huge cheers to those who planned and ran this event so successfully."

More people rushed to Dre's booth.

Once the last cakewalk ended and the winner was given a voucher for a cake, Quinn handed the number jar to the students helping her to return it to Counselor Krane.

Quinn meandered through the grounds to check out the other booths. Having worked the entire morning, she hadn't been able to walk around. A face painting tent had a banner announcing art students were doing the painting. Cheerleaders taught young girls and boys cheers. The school dance crew demonstrated line dancing to different aged people. Several teenage boys pretended to do the steps, but they weren't fooling anyone. They were there to watch.

She circled back to her booth. People still crowded around Dre, his attention rapt on the person speaking to him. He laughed, then glanced her way—his smile warm and inviting.

As if pulled by some force, she took a step toward him. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Not breaking eye contact with Dre, she pulled it out. "Hello."

"Quinn, thank goodness you answered. Your grandmother has fallen."

"There is no better exercise for the heart than reaching down and lifting people up."

~ John Holmes