Page 1

“Happy Thursday to all of our rush hour listeners on this hot and sticky August afternoon. This is Johnny May for WRXT radio, here to discuss another year of South Mountain Pioneer Football! A bit of a somber broadcast as we go through our preseason preview without our beloved Coach Weston for the first time in almost 15 years. The devastating car accident back in April stunned us all, and the aftershock is still rippling through the community. Local Boosters and the School Board have pushed full support behind playing the season, but one must wonder how this team will respond.

New Head Coach Mike Bianchi hopes to bring stability to this program after such a tragic event. He comes to us with an impressive college football coaching resume; however, his abrupt resignation from his last job in California has some around town concerned about the hire. Luckily for Coach Bianchi, he will be returning five key starters from a district championship team. This includes All-State running back Tyquan Carter, whose explosiveness will be paired with one of the top senior receiving duos in the district in Jefferson Taylor and Andy Green. The defense will be in good hands with senior Emilio Cortez, who not only excels at linebacker but also anchors the offensive line.

The big question mark, though, will be the quarterback position. Returning starter Gunner Weston will be expected to lead this group of players after an impressive junior season. But, after his father’s sudden passing this spring, many are wondering if Weston will be able to live up to expectations.”

**********

Gunner felt like he was in a tunnel by the time Ty finally switched off the radio.

“Man, screw that guy!” Ty exclaimed. “He just loves to hear himself talk.”

So true.

The old Sentra, a gift when Gunner first got his license, inched forward as he relaxed his foot against the pedal. He gripped the steering wheel tight as his mind raced while waiting for the red light.

“Yeah, G,” Andy shouted from the back, “that guy is so full of shit!”

A slap on the back from his friend was enough to rock Gunner out of his trance---a state that had unfortunately become a common occurrence. He merely nodded and switched to the Bluetooth music on his phone.

“We know what we have, so screw that guy!” Andy was smiling in the rearview mirror, obviously expecting Gunner to engage and agree. However, Gunner’s chest was so tight that he thought it would explode if he opened his mouth.

Just breathe.

He repeated it to himself as the light finally turned green. His eyes remained forward, his glare intensifying as he took a quick turn into the sprawling neighborhood he had grown up in.

He used to love this drive. The peacefulness of the fresh-cut lawns and hemlock trees spreading by the sidewalks was always a comforting return from practice. The waves of neighbors as he passed and the smiles on everyone’s faces were always welcomed after a hot day in pads. But now, after what had happened, the rows of split-level and colonial-style houses were just another depressing backdrop. A cold reminder of the life he’d once had.

“What do we have, AG?” Ty leaned back against his seat and rubbed his buzzed black hair.

“We have us.” Andy was peering out the window now. “We have JT, who is as fast as a damn gazelle, Cortez, who is batshit crazy on the field, and, well, us.”

Gunner could not help but crack a thin smile as he glanced at Andy in the rearview mirror. Even after a long, hot day of two practices, his voice still carried the upbeat, energetic tone that made him a captain.

“You mean you have me.” Ty punched Gunner in the shoulder, almost turning them off the road.

“Careful---you trying to kill us?” Gunner snapped, unable to hide the annoyance in his voice as he steadied the wheel.

“Right. Sorry, G. Not trying to hurt the arm that is going to take us to a state championship.”

Gunner shook his head, smiling slightly.

“Yeah, right,” he said, flashing the blinker and turning down Andy’s street. “If it’s up to Coach, we’ll never throw the ball.”

Ty chuckled, and he slapped his large hands together.

“I mean, can you blame him? He does have the best damn running back in the state on his team.”

Typical Ty.

Gunner shot an annoyed look at Andy, who merely rolled his eyes. His friend’s messy blond hair, which covered his forehead and reached past his nose when it was soaked with sweat, did not hide his irritation at the comment.

It was not that Gunner’s best friend was wrong. Ty had just been named to the watch list for the Pennsylvania Player of the Year and was a sure bet to be playing Division One college football next year. However, his egocentric personality had lately seemed especially grating. The boisterous tone that normally accompanied it was also wearing thin on Gunner as he pulled up in front of Andy’s house.

“Well, boys, this is my stop.” The young wide receiver tapped Gunner on the shoulder before getting out. “But like I said, man, we know what we have.”

Right…

Gunner plastered on the fake grin he had been working on for months as Andy got out of the car. The departure was enough to set Ty off on the next topic, and he began to talk through what was still needed for the party tomorrow night at Emilio’s.

Look at that stupid-ass prop.

His eyes had landed on something they had been trying to avoid. The cutout on Andy’s front yard, a plastic South Mountain Football helmet with Andy’s name and number in the middle, seemed to taunt him.

Why do we even---

Ty punched his shoulder, and he instinctively jerked the car into drive. The internal battle he had been fighting began to dissipate as his grasp once more tightened around the steering wheel.

“You know he’s forgetting the cups,” Ty joked. His voice sounded quiet and far away in Gunner’s ears.

Right .

Gunner flexed his hands and stayed quiet. His mind began to jump back and forth until it landed on the radio broadcast they had been listening to.

Expectations?

“G? You cool?”

Of course.

Gunner cleared his throat and shrugged as he pulled up to his house. Somehow, he had driven the two blocks home without even realizing it.

“G?” Ty’s voice was no longer boisterous or arrogant. It was softer, one that a best friend uses when they know something is wrong.

“Yeah man,” Gunner said as he shifted the car into park and rested his head against the leather steering wheel. “Just tired, you know?”

Ty’s eyes didn’t move; the silence in the car was heavier than the humid air outside.

“I know, dude.” His best friend finally swung open the door, allowing heat to overtake the interior. “Hey.” Ty’s voice was still low as he swung his bulky legs out. “Just get through tomorrow’s practices, and then we can relax for a few days. We can hit up Emilio’s party and, you know, just chill and have some fun before school starts.”

Gunner nodded in halfhearted agreement.

“You need to have some fun.” Ty’s bicep flexed as he grabbed the handle. “We all need to have some fun.”

Fun?

Gunner waited as Ty grabbed his bag from the back and moved across the street toward his house.

“See you in the morning, man. Remember, it’s your day for bagels! ”

Right.

Gunner took a deep breath and finally built up the strength to ease out of the car and step into the sweltering summer heat. He gave a lazy wave to his best friend and popped the trunk of the Sentra. The musty odor that greeted him was pungent yet familiar---somehow comforting after the last few months.

He tossed his bag into the middle of the yard and began his walk down to the mailbox. He had followed this routine for years after practice, even though it required that he pass his own football helmet cut-out in the yard.

Screw that prop.

His name and number, etched in yellow, glowed against the emerald backdrop of the lawn.

So stupid.

He snapped his leg back, catching the number sixteen helmet with the underside of his foot. The loud clang rang out into the humid air, and he did not even bother to look at the mail as he stomped back across the pavement.

“Ellie!” The voice startled him, and he jerked his head around toward it. A small dog with a leash trailing behind it was in his yard, gnawing at the edge of his gym bag. “Stop it!”

A girl who looked to be about his age regained control of the leash and tried to pull the dog back onto the sidewalk.

Never saw this dog before.

“It’s OK.” He bent down and gave a gentle pet to the corgi, which calmed at his touch. “She probably just enjoys the terrible smell coming out of this bag.”

He glanced up, the sun outlining the girl’s silhouette. Her hazel eyes shimmered in the reflection of the rays, and her toned legs straightened as he rose.

Who is that!?

“Sorry,” she said softly, still working hard to corral the small but clearly strong little dog.

“It’s…” he hesitated, watching her long brunette hair, which was swept into a ponytail, sway as she resumed her run past him.

His eyes followed a small bead of sweat that ran down her olive neck when she turned and struggled once more with the leash. He inhaled as the sparkle of moisture ran down her chest.

Damn, she is hot.

He finally got enough wind into his lungs to yell after her. “I mean, it’s OK!” She glanced only briefly back at him before continuing down the street at a full sprint.

“Pretty dog!” he shouted. “I mean…”

Not as pretty as you, though.

He was mumbling to himself softly, unable to pull his gaze off the girl as she sped away.

“Gunner!” interrupted a voice from inside the house. “Dinner is ready!” He grabbed his bag but could not help but take one more look at the girl as she disappeared around the corner.

Who was that!?

He swung open the door to the split-level house. The air conditioning hit his body so hard that it instantly sent a chill up his side.

“Did you get the mail?” The woman’s familiar voice, wafting out from the kitchen, was the calming sound that Gunner needed .

“Yeah, Mom, I got it.”

He made his way in, placing the mail down on the table and trying not to make eye contact with her as he kissed her on the cheek. The smell of her lemon chicken made his mouth water as he watched her cut a piece and place it on a plate for him.

“Thanks, Mom,” he whispered, forcing a smile as he grabbed some potatoes.

“You not eating with us?” His sister’s shriek was less welcome. Her sea blue eyes shot daggers at him as she moved a strand of her light brown hair away from her face and took a seat at the table. “It would be nice to have a family dinner for once.”

Family dinner.

Gunner kept his head down and slid around the table. The plate was now heavy in his hand as he fought to avoid the picture hanging on the living room wall.

There are no more family dinners.

His father’s stare from the portrait was burning into his skin. The family photo of their vacation in the mountains was just another taunting image he had to avoid today.

“Peyton, be nice to your brother,” his mom snipped, her empathetic gaze locked on him with concern. “She is right, though, Gunner. It would be nice to eat together tonight.”

Yeah…

He clicked his bottom jaw, still refusing to look at the picture on the wall.

“I...” He tried to catch his breath, but it refused to fill his lungs. “I have to get some stuff ready for school next week, sorry. ”

Their eyes followed him as he dashed up the stairs and out of sight. His chest had ballooned once more, and he felt like it might explode with each step he took.

**********

“Dumb dog,” Hailey huffed as she hustled down the street. The glare of the muscular boy she had just passed was still hot against her back. “You always have to go getting in trouble, don’t you, Ellie?”

She rounded the corner fast, now out of sight of his searching green eyes, and made her way up the driveway to her house.

What was he staring at?

She shook her head and reached into her pocket for the house key. A sly smirk appeared on her face as she replayed him kicking the plastic football helmet in his front yard.

Typical football player.

A loud bark from Ellie had her turning back before she could open the door. Her father blasted the horn on his car.

“Daddy!” she yelled childishly, fighting the excited corgi, which had redoubled its efforts to escape.

“Sorry, sweetie!” Her father quickly jumped out and extended the bag in his hand. “But I brought dinner!”

Wonderful, more fast food.

The little corgi quieted at his voice. She gently unlocked the door and held it open for him as he briskly skipped inside the house.

“Daddy, what did I tell you about always going out for dinner? We’ve been to that stupid shop a hundred times already.”

She unhooked Ellie’s leash, who quickly sprinted to the couch and jumped on an older girl who was staring blankly at the TV .

“Melissa, sweetheart, I brought dinner.” He kissed Hailey’s older sister on the head as he passed by. She didn’t respond.

This must be a bad day.

Melissa stood slowly before sluggishly dragging her body out of the room.

Poor Melissa.

Her sister’s brown hair was frayed and matted like it had not been washed in days, and she still had on the same pajama pants she’d worn all last week.

“How was Ellie on the walk?” Her dad pulled out salads as Hailey entered the kitchen.

“Good. You know her, always getting into trouble.” She was trying to engage in the conversation, but her mind kept creeping back to her sister, who had finally taken a seat at the table.

“Hey Melissa, maybe you should go with Hails next time she takes the dog for a walk? I know it’s been a scorcher, but it might be nice to get outside.”

What are you doing, Daddy?

Hailey glared intently over at her father, who merely smiled and put the salads down on the table. The silence that followed built into an awkward tension as they both awaited an answer.

“Yeah, maybe,” Melissa muttered softly. “Maybe next time.” She took a few small bites and went silent again.

Not a chance.

Hailey could not help but sigh; her father kept his fake smile on. They grabbed their plastic containers and silverware before taking a seat at the circular wooden table. For a few moments, the only sound was that of the TV in the other room, which murmured throughout their meal.

I hate family dinners.

For Hailey, the unspoken horror that had happened to her sister was a constant presence, and watching Melissa suffer through each day was becoming an unbearable sight that typically left Hailey without an appetite.

“So.” Her father flashed another forced grin. “Are you excited for the first day of school, Hails?”

He took a quick bite and tilted his head to her.

Is that a serious question?

Hailey froze, a piece of lettuce hanging from her fork as she sized up an answer.

“I guess as excited as I can be for my first day of senior year at a brand-new school all the way across the country without any friends.”

Her father inhaled deeply, peering down at his plate.

Stupid Hailey!

Melissa had already dropped her fork and was staring at the blank wall in front of her.

Of all the things to say!

She knew better than to be sarcastic right now.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice echoed in the quiet, empty room. “I didn’t…I just…I mean, yeah, I think I have everything I need.”

She stared sheepishly at the scarred surface of the wooden dinner table. They reverted to silence once more until her sister abruptly stood.

“Done already, Melissa?” Her father’s voice did not match the smile on his face.

“Just wasn’t very hungry tonight, Dad.” She was already well on her way to the living room.

Same.

Hailey took a few more bites before making her way over to the sink. Her father remained seated, his disappointment palpable.

I hate this.

She had always loved speaking to her father, and when she was younger, she had admired how hard he worked to raise his two girls. However, for the last few years, he had struggled to find answers. His face was endlessly stuck in a look of confusion and anxiety. The losses their family had suffered, along with everything that had occurred after, had left a black cloud over them all. That image, which gave rise to a rotating hole in her stomach, had Hailey swiftly finishing at the sink in hopes of avoiding any more talk. Her father stood.

“Baby girl,” he said, coming close and grabbing her hands before she could get away. “I know this is not easy for you.”

I do not want to do this now.

She could not help but look up. His soft hazel eyes were weary and lost, making her stomach turn more violently.

“But I need you to be strong, please.” His gaze was imploring as he motioned toward the living room. “I need you to be strong for your sister and…and for me.”

I know.

She squeezed his dry, callused hands.

“Don’t worry, Coach,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll be tough. I know the drill. ”

She wouldn’t be able to hold it together if she stayed any longer. Hailey stepped out of the kitchen, taking one more look at her sister as she made her way to the stairs. Her eyes began to shift around the living room. The sight of unpacked boxes made her lower her head as she gripped the railing tight.

This is not home.

Hailey hated this new house, hated the old carpets and outdated kitchen backsplash by the sink. She hated the tiny backyard and the entire colonial-style layout around her.

This will never be home.

She missed California. She missed her friends. She missed her mother.

As Hailey climbed the stairs, she glanced back at her father. He stood by the sink, slightly hunched over as the water continued to run in front of him. The South Mountain High polo shirt he wore was drenched with sweat stains and stuck to his stomach. “Coach Bianchi” was emblazoned across the left side of his bulky chest.

I hope this was all worth it.

He began to turn, but Hailey was already in motion, jumping up the rest of the steps toward her room before he could say another word to her.