Chapter Two

JOSH AYRESstrode into the Hamilton High Athletics office, glancing at his watch.

Ten minutes was plenty of time to check the weight room and swing by Carver’s office. He tossed his bag on the chair and slapped his abs before wading back into the hall.

“Morning, Coach,” said Elise from behind her desk. She wiggled and winked. “Looking buff.”

“Feeling tough.” He shrugged and smiled.

This back-forth fake flirting was a morning ritual they had started back when Elise Tattersall began lifting weights in earnest after her divorce. She’d lost sixty pounds, joined the athletic department here, and started teaching yoga to seniors at the local community center.

Josh turned back to her. “All good?”

Elise seemed to be sizing him up, which made him feel awkward. “You should come do some hot yoga once a week. My ladies would sure appreciate those shorts in downward dog. Well, not the shorts, but you know…. A little healthy inspiration never hurt nobody.”

“Oh, uh, thanks, Elise.” Josh reddened slightly, wishing his clothes were a bit looser. High school Josh would’ve pissed his pants and melted into the floor from hot shame. “I’m really a running and weights guy.”

She nodded. “Well, one of these days.”

He slapped her desk but didn’t linger. After grabbing a protein shake from the office fridge, Josh poked his head into the empty gym and headed out to the hallway to start his morning patrol.

He tugged on the trusty whistle around his neck and shook his head. Elise didn’t mean any harm. The whole staff knew he was gay. She treated Josh more like a kid brother, but even so, any compliments always sat weird with him.

His fitness was hard-won, not genetic accident.

Four years of roaming these halls as a kid, overwhelmed and adrift, pining after unattainable jocks, had kicked his ass harder than the most ruthless trainer. Discipline, nutrition, and a healthy dose of hormones had done him no harm. As his late uncle used to say, “We all become the thing we desire.”

Thank God.

He glanced at his reflection in the trophy case. One thing about coaching and teaching at his alma mater: not a day went by without some reminder of how much he’d changed in the past twelve years. He tucked his polo into the shorts, smoothed the front, and double-checked his zipper.

He waved hello to Mrs. Grappo as she affixed a glittered Fri-YAY! sign to her door. Down the hall, Otis the janitor whistled tunelessly while mopping up a purple puddle, spilled juice or punch.

“Morning, Coach Ayres!” called out a student in a group of high schoolers, who all waved and grinned. Josh flashed them a smile and a nod, never taking for granted the respect he’d earned in this tight-knit community.

As one of the “cool” teachers at Hamilton High, Josh took his unofficial role as mentor and confidant seriously. He kept a sharp eye out for struggling students who needed a helping hand or a stern glare.

Wednesdays were easy. He wasn’t teaching a history elective this year and he didn’t have a gym class till late morning, so he usually grabbed a bagel in the cafeteria before teaching, but today he needed to see if Principal Carver had approved the bus budget for their spring season. Hauling kids around rural California cost money.

“Hey, Mr. Ayres,” stammered a lanky freshman clutching his schedule. “I’m lost again. Can you help me find Mr. Chan’s room?”

The boy’s hunched posture and nervous energy telegraphed plenty. Josh remembered wanting to melt into the linoleum.

“No sweat, Kevin. I’m headed that way myself,” Josh replied with a mellow shrug.

As they crossed the atrium, Josh couldn’t help but flash back to his own puberty lost in these halls. High school Joshua wouldn’t have recognized his physique or his confidence, but that awkward adolescence was the root of everything he’d become. Back then he’d been an uptight misfit who eyed and envied the hunky athletes from the sidelines. He felt ashamed of it now.

“Here you go, Kev.” Josh gestured to the classroom door. “Just remember, this hallway loops around like a square. Third door on the left. You’ll get the hang of it soon, promise.”

“Thanks, Coach. You’re the best.” Kevin swallowed nervously and dropped his eyes. With a grateful nod, he hurried into the classroom just as the bell rang.

Josh watched him take his seat.

“Josh, my man!” came a booming voice from behind him. He turned to see Principal Carver approaching. “Thanks for helping Kevin. His parents just moved here, and he’s still a bit off-kilter. You’ve got a real gift, you know that?”

“Thank you, sir,” Josh replied with heartfelt gratitude. “It’s an honor to be able to help these kids. They deserve our best. I wanted to ask about the buses.”

Carver gave him a thumbs-up and Josh grinned in gratitude.

After high school, a determination to improve himself had led Josh to commit to health and fitness. He’d promised himself to help the kids who struggled the way he had. Now as a teacher and coach, Josh strove to make school a welcoming place for all types of students.

Sure, he got lonely sometimes, even panicky. In general, being single and gay in a small town sucked. Still, even if he never met that special someone who “got” him, he could make a difference. He had nothing to gripe about.

Instead he focused on taking the steps every day, away from his past and closer to the person he dreamed of becoming: a protector, a mentor, and a friend to people who didn’t always know how to ask.

Josh entered the gymnasium, the scent of freshly polished wood and the echo of bouncing basketballs filling the air. He loved this space; it was a sanctuary for so many students, a Pause button on the pressures of high school life—a place they could focus. As he surveyed the room, his eyes fell on a group of athletes gathered around a scrawny sophomore struggling with a set of dumbbells.

“Hey, knock it off,” Josh barked, his voice firm yet compassionate. The athletes scattered like startled birds, leaving the freshman trembling in their wake. “You all right, Sanjay?” he asked. The boy’s cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, wiping sweat from his brow. “Th-thanks, Coach.”

“Remember, we’re all here to help each other grow.” Josh clapped him on the back. “No one should ever feel intimidated or unwelcome in this gym.”

“Yes, sir.” Sanjay nodded.

“Good man,” Josh said, smiling warmly. “Now, let’s find you a more appropriate weight and work on your form.”

As he guided the boy through a series of exercises, he tuned out the teenage gossip around him. His focus was on helping young athletes build confidence and strength, regardless of what anyone else might think or say. After all, it wasn’t his job to entertain idle chatter; it was his job to challenge bullies, protect the vulnerable, and help every student realize that a healthy body was something they all deserved.

Josh smiled. “Remember, you get where you’re going one step at a time.”

Just before lunchtime, Josh was on his way back to the athletics office when a loud commotion down the hall turned his head: students laughing and shouting in a clump near the main office. He frowned at the raised voices and what looked like teenaged animals jostling and crowding closer around someone. Please don’t let them be hassling a kid.

But then, as he got about twenty yards away, a familiar figure stopped him cold. Josh’s heart skipped and shunted him right back to horny teen anguish, his one hopeless schoolboy crush that had driven him nuts for longer than he liked to admit.

Tyler.

Towering over the students. Moving with the same feral intensity. Drop-dead handsome as ever. Tyler Fantana—NFL bad boy, America’s Tightest End, the cockiest heartthrob that ever graduated from Hamilton High—strode toward Principal Carver’s office, his legendary build commanding attention at this distance. Captain Fantastic.

After all these years, he came back.

As Tyler vanished behind the office door, scalding memories of high school flooded back to Josh, along with the intense yearning that had obsessed him from sophomore year on. He thought he’d outgrown that sweet pang, but his racing heart proved that was a lie.

He’d pined the way only a hormonal fourteen-fifteen-sixteen-year-old boy can pine. He’d cried and sulked. He’d studied football obsessively. He’d made emo playlists. He’d drawn elaborate pictures and doodled Tyler’s name in his margins. He’d written passionate letters full of football-themed fantasies. He’d scanned every room he entered for that perfectly tousled dark hair, jacked body, and sly hazel eyes. He’d ridden his bike past Tyler’s house so many times that even now he knew the way and could draw several routes from memory.

Without even realizing it, Tyler had ended up symbolizing a whole bunch of things to Josh during the hell of puberty. No human could live up to those expectations.

He gulped, feeling embarrassed by his visceral reaction. He’d let it go. It’d been a crazy crush. He’d been a horny idiot.

Fantasy. Insanity.

Shaking off the swoony nostalgia, Josh went to the office bathroom and splashed his pinked face with cold water. Grow up, Ayres. In hindsight, Nadia must have suspected back in high school, but she’d never broached the subject.

He hadn’t laid eyes on Tyler in more than a decade, and somehow nothing had changed. Josh was hardly that awkward, gawking stalker anymore, but surely Tyler’s celebrity had only widened the impossible gap between them.

Or had it? Josh’s new, improved body might not be ready for pro ball, but nobody could say he wasn’t built solid. That thought alone startled him.

Tyler Fantana was back in town, only now Josh wasn’t invisible anymore. Gone was the skinny dweeb lusting after the homecoming king from the bleachers. Josh had grown up. Collegiate swimming and regular rock climbing had transformed that anxious kid inside and out.

After he’d gotten a grip, he made his way back to the weight room, where he found a group of students working out during their lunch break.

“Hey, Coach, did you hear?” one of the boys blurted out between bench press reps. Josh had coached his brother but only knew his last name was Rawls. “Tyler Fantana’s here at school!”

“Really?” a freckled boy exclaimed, momentarily abandoning his squat. “Like, the Tyler Fantana? From the Swells?”

A girl named Debbie slapped the freckled kid’s arm. “Duh. He went here, like, a hundred years ago. Did you get a selfie?”

“His hair grew, I think,” the Rawls boy said from the bench. “I don’t know. He was fire, yo. Rich and ripped.”

“Duh. My sister said he used to date Carl Nassib and Megan Thee Stallion.” Debbie shrugged with perfect adolescent logic. The students probably knew more about Tyler than Josh did. “I mean, not at the same time.” She laughed, and the others laughed along at her gossipy tone. “But still….”

“Guys, focus,” Josh chided gently. Nowadays Tyler slept around plenty, guys and girls both if you trusted the tabloids, but nothing serious far as he could tell. That reveal hadn’t hurt Josh’s fantasy life any. The world had changed a lot in fifteen years. “This is your time to work on yourselves, not stalk the alumni. Don’t get weird.”

“Come on, Coach Ayres,” Debbie piped up. “It’s not every day an effing NFL superstar comes to Nowheresville.”

Josh sighed, understanding their excitement but wanting to keep the kids from doing anything foolish or dangerous. He leaned against a nearby weight rack, crossing his arms as he addressed the group. “I get that it’s exciting, but Tyler’s been through it this year. He deserves his privacy just like anyone else. If he’s visiting school, it’s probably for a good reason. Be cool. Give the guy some space.”

There was a grumble of reluctant agreement, and the students returned to their exercises, albeit with slightly deflated enthusiasm.

As Josh observed them, his mind wandered back to Tyler, wondering what had brought him back to their hometown. He knew about the heart attack, of course. The whole world had watched it happen in real time. The hit, the fall, and the rush to the hospital. Just last month, ESPN had spent a week theorizing that Tyler planned to retire.

Was this trip home just a visit, or something more permanent? Josh found himself imagining a chance to reconnect with the guy who’d occupied so much of his teenage daydreams. Talk about ancient history….

Nah. They’d been strangers. Tyler had never even noticed him and certainly wouldn’t recognize him after all this time. Josh barely recognized himself.

“All right, gang,” Josh called out as the lunch break came to an end. “Great work today. Remember to respect each other and everyone else on campus—even famous football players.”

“Got it, Coach,” they chorused, and he watched them file out of the weight room, their Fantana chatter fading into the hallway.

Josh allowed himself a tiny smile, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he might get the chance to see Tyler again. Even just to say hi. And this time he wouldn’t be the skinny, awkward nerd he’d been in high school. Who knew—he might be someone Tyler would actually notice.

After lunch, Josh tried to act nonchalant as he meandered through the school’s corridors toward the principal’s office. The mob had dispersed, but the kids still seemed keyed up and chatty about their infamous visitor. A lot of texting and gossip seemed to be happening in Tyler’s wake.

Tyler Fantana had always had that effect on crowds. Josh hesitated against the wall a moment, second-guessing this dumb impulse.

The memories of his teenage fantasies came surging back: stolen glances in the halls, Tyler goofing around with his buddies, muscle straining beneath his jersey, his big laugh, teasing smile, and that insane rush the few times their eyes happened to meet by accident.

“Get a grip, Joshua,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head to clear away the lingering images. “Be cool.”

The door to the college counselor’s office opened ahead, and Myra Waxman stepped out to sniff the air, no doubt lured out by the hubbub.

As subtly as possible, Josh angled to the other side of the hall, out of her grab radius.

Myra didn’t usually get handsy in front of the students, but she clutched at him at the most awkward moments under the camouflage of motherly affection. No, thanks. Unlike Elise and her friendly flirting, Myra could get aggressive and seemed a little too serious for comfort, mothering him about the oddest things. Groping and scolding seemed to be her only modes with him. Probably, she just kept herself too lonely for her own good.

As he turned the corner, he spotted Principal Carver’s door slightly ajar. He could hear faint voices from within, and his pulse quickened. With every step closer, he felt the pressure of his own advice to the students in the weight room earlier: respect Tyler’s privacy. Yet here he was, teetering on the edge of hypocrisy.

Am I really going to do this? Josh felt queasy and emboldened. It’s hardly fair to barge in and slobber over him. I just finished lecturing the kids about space and courtesy.

He flexed his shoulders and back, mustering the strength and confidence he’d worked so hard for over the years.

He has no idea who I am.He hesitated in front of the door, biting his lip as he weighed his pitiful options. Torn between satisfying his own urges and respecting the person who had unwittingly inspired him to transform himself into the man he was today.

A long shot, but even the chance of a glimpse of Tyler or a quick hello made trying seem important. Both thrilling and terrifying, the idea that they could meet again as equals.

“Coach Ayres!” Carver’s voice called from inside, tugging Josh out of his dilemma. “Come on in. I was just talking to someone about you.”

Josh took a breath, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, as though he was walking to the end of a high diving board. He hesitated another moment before pressing the door open and plunging in.

“Hey, Principal Carver.” Josh stepped into the office, doing his best to keep his voice level. Tyler was gone. He couldn’t help the surge of irritation, however irrational. “Word has it we had a famous visitor today.”

“Indeed. Tyler Fantana!” the principal gushed, his eyes lighting up. “Can you believe it? Crazy. Our very own hometown hero, right in that very seat.”

It was still warm. “Yeah. Some of the students were talking about it. What brings him back?”

“Recovery from that heart thing. You know. Terrible.” Carver frowned and glanced out at the quad. “But get this—he came to ask you a favor. Well, us.”

Josh sat up. “What favor?” His hands tightened on the arms of the chair.

“Working out. Well, if you’d feel okay if he used our gym for his rehab. Can you imagine? I told him he’s more than welcome. An alum? A big-deal alum?”

“Obviously.” Josh nodded. His heart pounded at the thought of Tyler working out in his gym. With him. “That’s cool. Terrific, actually.”

“I thought so. Sorry I didn’t ask you beforehand.” Carver looked sheepish. “You don’t have an AP history class this year. I just figured it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“An NFL celebrity in and out of this place? Get serious.” Josh waved away the apology. Then he’d see Tyler more than once, maybe hang out some. “No problem at all.”

“Fantastic! I told him to swing by your office to discuss it.”

“You mean now? Then I should—”

“Indeed.” Carver rose. “Let me know if anything comes up.”

Josh was confident that plenty would come up, but he was barely listening. As he left the office, his mind raced with possibilities… and doubts.

Would Tyler even remember him? Did Josh want to be remembered as the nerdy kid two years below him who’d mooned around the bleachers? First thing: he needed to get a grip. He’d been dreaming about Tyler for all this time, but if he wasn’t careful, Tyler would see him as another pushy stalker who wanted something.

As much as he tried to quell it, the nagging impatience refused to dissipate. He’d been waiting a long time, expecting never. But if Tyler wanted to use the gym facilities while he recuperated, it would create plenty of opportunities for them to cross paths.

Only time would tell, but Josh headed back to the athletic department, hopeful about this unexpected second chance.

The afternoon hallways seemed quiet. He swung by the cafeteria to wolf down a wrap and then picked up a package at the front desk.

After, Josh navigated the halls back to his office more slowly than strictly necessary, heart galloping but prudence holding the reins. He could picture Tyler there, all grown up and more handsome than he remembered—his powerful shoulders, that wicked smile—maybe needing a rubdown or some expert advice on his recuperation from a friendly coach willing to put in the hours.

Cool it.

When Josh reached the athletics office, however, it looked exactly as he’d left it: empty, except for the usual papers and abandoned gear the kids left behind them. The realization that Tyler had come and gone without crossing paths with him hit harder than it should’ve. Josh’s shoulders fell.

Back at his desk, he sank into the worn chair and took a steadying breath. He regarded the framed photo of his college swim team. He’d come a long way since his time at Hamilton. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Eyes, prize, he told himself firmly. So what if he missed Tyler on his first visit?

Afternoon sun sliced through the blinds, casting slats of buttery light across the memos and mail he needed to sort.

“Get it together, Ayres,” he muttered to himself, trying to smooth his springy hair down. The familiar knot of doubt tightened in his chest, an old terror that still crept up on him when the going got messy.

His own pathetic crush aside, Tyler being here offered more than just selfish wish fulfillment. A real-life NFL superstar around the school. A hometown hero? Living proof that kids should work hard and commit to excellence if they wanted to do jack with their lives.

Who knows?he mused, still daydreaming. Maybe this time around, things will turn out different.

A yelp of adolescent laughter from the hall yanked Josh out of his reverie. He still had a job to do and students waiting on him. With a final glance around his office, he stood and went to the door.

“Here’s hoping,” he whispered, stepping back into the teenaged tangle between fifth and sixth periods, squaring his shoulders to face the afternoon with a tickle of anticipation. Already he could see the usual suspects clowning around by the double doors.

“Hey, Coach Ayres!” a voice called out from behind him, jolting him back to the here and now. A group of young players clustered outside the gym entrance, their faces flushed with excitement, probably wanting to use the weights during a free period. “You won’t believe it! We saw Tyler Fantana!”

“Really?” Josh feigned surprise. His heart might have been off-kilter, but that was no one’s business, least of all his students’. He laughed. “Did you attack him with TikTok?”

“Actually, we took your advice, Coach,” Debbie replied, grinning and tucking her hair behind her ear.

He nodded. “Good choice.”

“And he’s, like, way hotter and nicer than Gronk is, or Drake even. Which is basically impossible.”

“Eww, Deb. Gross,” said Mark, one of the wrestlers. “We didn’t harass him, Coach. Honest.”

Debbie rolled her eyes. “We played it chill, and like, instead of a million lame pics, we got to talk to him. Like, actual real talk. And he asked questions, and get this: he’ll be hanging around while he’s in town. Like, here!” She pointed at the polished floor.

Josh pretended Tyler’s gym plan was news, but his smile was genuine. Tyler probably had no clue what he’d done for the school—for Josh—simply by asking for a favor. “See? Giving people space is a good call.”

The freckled boy next to her bobbed his head at that. “So cool.”

“Well, let’s make him feel welcome.” Josh squinted at the random bags and papers littered around the echoing room. “How about you kids try and pick up after yourselves a bit more? Even show up to practice on time. Volunteer to show a frosh around? You never know—if you get lucky, maybe Fantana will throw some pigskin your way.”

“Deal!” Debbie said. The rest of the gangly athletes bounced and muttered happily, eyes shining.

As they dispersed, Josh allowed himself a cautious smile. This might not have been the reunion he’d hoped for—might not ever be—but the possibility of seeing Tyler again at a time when Josh felt comfortable in his own skin made him happy in his bones.

Better late than never, right? If and when Tyler showed up wanting to work out, Josh would be ready. And who knew? Maybe this time, they’d meet each other properly.

After all, awful high school years might make for awesome reunions.