Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Come on, watch the segment,” Angel urged. Next to me, Caleb took my hand under the table, and I shot him a smile. He and Eric were both in uniform, having rushed to the viewing after a shift.
“The Mount Hope Sasquatch arrived at the stadium with big feet and bigger dreams, but they were down twenty-one to fourteen at halftime.”
The TV flashed to a clip of us at halftime, Scotty standing up on a bench to implore the defense to dig in. Luckily, the station had edited out all his F-bombs. The clip did, however, include John’s speech, which had been heavily borrowed from several war movies. And me telling the team that they’d made it this far.
“Let’s finish the job,” I said on the screen, and the crowd in the cafeteria cheered. What the TV program didn’t show was me saying that the team was already winners and should be proud no matter what. Upping the drama for the sake of a good segment was a TV sports classic.
“The second half of the game, though, was an all-out running game battle as Mount Hope charged back to tie things at twenty-eight even. And then, with under a minute on the play clock—”
“Thirty-seven seconds!” half the team barked the correction.
“Coach Capo cooked up a Hail Mary for the ages, complete with an Oscar-worthy fake-out.”
“Thank you, thank you.” John stood, or rather, was pushed to stand by his friends and took a mock bow for his acting efforts.
“Mount Hope missed the extra point but went on to win it, thirty-four to twenty-eight, for the first championship in school history.”
“We are the champions…” The team burst into terrible singing amid much laughter and cheering.
“You’re a star.” Caleb leaned in so I could hear him over the team.
“Nah. That’s the kids. I’m just the guy who stepped in to coach—”
“And win,” Coach Willard said from my other side. We’d moved a few chairs to make room for his new wheelchair. Beverly sat at his other side. “You did mighty fine, Coach Capo. Made this old boy proud.”
“Thanks, Coach. You feeling better is the real win.” My voice came out all croaky. After a summer’s worth of testing and several more health scares in the fall, he finally had a diagnosis of COPD and a treatment plan that was making a huge difference in his quality of life.
From our shaky beginning forward, he’d been one of my biggest supporters, and a few days before Thanksgiving, the school board had made my hire for the next school year official. Some said the board didn’t want to risk national media attention had they made an issue out of my being bisexual, but I liked to think the strong support of my team and their parents was what made the real difference.
“Y’all will come over for our Super Bowl party after the holidays?” Beverly pointed at Caleb. “I hear you’re a big fan.”
“Lies.” Caleb groaned and made a show of holding his head. But for a guy who claimed to not like team sports, he sure had watched an awful lot of it that fall. “I’ll bring my mom’s seven-layer dip.”
“Excellent.” Beverly and Coach Willard beamed. “And has that brother of yours announced his school pick?”
“No.” Caleb shook his head, glancing over at their mom, who was talking with Scotty and his friends. “He’s keeping his cards super close to the vest. But the number of recruiter visits keeps going up.”
“Including West Point.” Coach Willard could hardly contain his pride.
“It’ll be Scotty’s decision in the end,” Caleb said firmly. His attitude had changed in the past few months, coming more from a place of acceptance and understanding that Scotty had to blaze his own path forward.
“And when do you get to put up that room for rent sign?” Beverly teased Eric as he came over to our table.
“Eh. We’re happy to make Tony Caleb’s problem now.” Eric joked, but his laugh was strained.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. He’d been fine when we’d privately discussed me moving in with Caleb after the first of the year since I was there most nights anyway.
“Don’t want to bring the celebration down, but Jonas just left to take Sean and Denver to the airport. Declan was in a motocross accident.”
“Oh no.” A murmur of sympathy went around the whole table.
“Bet he’s a tough one like his old man.” Coach Willard was a big fan of Sean’s, and in this case, I hoped like hell he was right.
Later, much later, after the watch party and celebration had disbanded, after Eric and John had headed back to the house to wait for news from Sean, after a quick dinner from Pinball Pizza with Caleb and Scotty’s mom, I lay in Caleb’s bed.
“Luck is such a weird thing, isn’t it?” I mused, resting my head on his chest. We were both in T-shirts and flannel pants. Sleeping rather than fooling around was a much more likely outcome. Their mother was installed in the living room on the new air mattress Caleb had acquired for her frequent visits. Even if she hadn’t been visiting, the news of Declan’s injury, combined with poor sleep leading up to the championship, was a definite mood damper.