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“It is football eve here on WRXT, and I, for one, cannot wait to get this season started. As we approach game one of the new season, we have many questions that are yet to be answered. What will the Pioneers look like under new Head Coach Mike Bianchi, and can his college-style coaching translate to the high school level? What should we expect from quarterback Gunner Weston, who will obviously be playing with a heavy heart in his first game since his father’s passing? Can this team, that last year came up just short of a state championship game, get back and possibly win it all? It will fall on the team’s veteran leadership to get them back to a state-semifinal and secure them a chance to play in Hershey Stadium at the end of the year.”

**********

“You really got Coach fired up at practice today.” Ty was smirking at Gunner as they opened the door to Tony D’s pizza parlor. The annoying voice of the radio DJ blared over all the speakers. “I mean, I thought for a second he was going to unload on you.”

Whatever.

Gunner just shook his head and got in line. The noise from the dinner crowd was picking up from the other side of the wall, causing a slight headache to begin to throb in his temple .

Not my problem.

Coach Bianchi had been pushing them for weeks, and Gunner had finally had enough. His offense was as bland as his speeches, and his play calling, which refused to give Gunner the opportunity to throw the ball, was about as predictable as Charlotte’s flirtatious advances during every lunch.

My father was a much better coach.

“I mean, like I said though---” Ty raised his hand so Tony could see they had arrived. “All Coach has to do is give me the ball, and we’ll be fine.”

Gunner ignored him as he tried to erase the incident from his head. He could still see his coach’s face locked on him as he stood by himself, the rest of the team on the line for sprints. He knew he had messed up the second he opened his mouth, but he was a captain, and someone had to say something.

Why does it always have to be me?

“Look, man.” Ty made his way to the counter and grabbed the pizza that awaited him. “I know you and Coach B don’t see eye to eye. I mean hell, how that man produced that fine-ass daughter of his I will never---”

“Watch it!” Gunner’s voice rose, and he flashed a glare toward his friend. The jolt of anger came out of nowhere but coursed heavily through his body.

What the hell was that?

Gunner’s face instantly went warm as he shied away. He took a deep breath and squinted up at the multiple chandeliers that illuminated the large dining area on the other side of the wall.

“Chill dude!” Ty’s eyes were wide and questioning. “You know the deal. You can’t go banging the coach’s daughter, G. It’s like an unwritten rule---a game you can’t play. Plus, you’re the quarterback, and Charlotte is the captain of the cheerleading squad. That’s like a fairytale or some shit.”

Not my fairytale.

Gunner gritted his teeth as his friend started away.

“Charlotte’s all yours, Ty.” He finally said what he had been waiting to say since the breakup a few weeks before. “Trust me, I know you’ve had your eye on her for a long time.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Ty shot back. The two stared at each other in silence as the bell went off behind Gunner. “Just remember, G. This is our senior year. We are going to win state. We are going to win state for your dad.” Ty propped the door open, but their eyes remained locked. “I need you, G. The team needs you. It’s us, like it’s always been.”

Us...

Gunner took another deep breath and nodded slowly. His propensity to overreact had caught up to him again.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just, I mean, tell the boys I said hi when you see them.”

Ty meant well, and Gunner knew he had been out of line.

“Tell the fam I said the same.” He flashed his patent Tyquan Carter smile and stepped through the door.

Man, what was all that---

“Gunner!” called a gruff voice from behind the counter. “Your food is done.” Gunner inched forward, grabbing the bags and extending the cash he had in his hand. “No, no kid,” the man insisted, waving his hand dismissively. “This one is on me. ”

“Tony, please.”

The burly man behind the counter just shook his head as he pointed to the door.

“Please, Gunner. Take this back to your mom and sister and give them my best.”

Gunner lowered the bills and thanked him.

“How are they doing, by the way?” Tony asked as Gunner made his way around the corner.

That was precisely one of the questions Gunner had hoped to avoid, and he stuffed the bills into his pocket before taking another long inhale to gather himself. A familiar picture by the cash register grabbed his attention as he tried to steady his vision. His father and Tony stood together, holding a grand reopening sign, in front of this very pizza parlor---the original building had burned down.

“Doing OK.” Gunner jerked his head up, trying to keep his voice from breaking. “Just taking it day by day, I guess.”

I’m a terrible liar.

Tony’s green eyes looked exhausted, and his protruding stomach, which you could see through his apron, rocked as they went silent. It was clear that he wanted to say more; perhaps he wanted to press the conversation further. However, just like Gunner, Tony appeared to be at a loss for words. A large sigh finally brought them together into his well-known, tight, Italian bear hug.

“You look so much like him,” he exhaled as he patted Gunner’s back. “Life is not fair sometimes. I just hope that the new scoreboard that we are putting up can help us all remember what your father has done for this town and community.”

I can’t do this .

Gunner’s chest had begun to tighten, and his eyes were starting to swell.

“I gotta go, Tony, but,” he snatched up the bags, “I really appreciate this.”

Tony stood, a subtle wetness filling his own eyes, for a few moments before he finally turned back to the counter.

“Good luck tomorrow, kid. I know as long as we have a Weston on the field, we have a chance.”

Great.

Gunner nodded and took one more look at the picture of his father and Tony. Their radiant smiles were the last push he needed to spin and half-run for the door.

Woah!

A woman shrieked as Gunner barreled past her, narrowly avoiding a collision in the small waiting area.

“Ms. Summers!” He jerked away, trying not to show how upset he was. “My fault. I was in a hurry, and I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t seem upset at all. Her warm, calm expression helped ease his breathing as he rocked back onto his heels.

“Are you OK?” she asked, her face shifting to concern.

I’m fine.

He gave a slight nod and tried to slip by.

“I just need to get home. My mom and sister are probably really hungry.”

She put her hand on his arm and forced him to come to a stop. The genuine concern she was showing was not all that surprising, given that Ms. Summers was one of his favorite teachers and a strong supporter of the football team. Her music classes were a much-needed break from his hectic AP schedule, and Gunner admired the way she engaged with her students.

“Before you go, I spoke with Principal Davis this morning.”

Great.

He tried to avoid eye contact with his teacher.

“I know you want out of stage crew this year.” Gunner was jutting his lower jaw out, trying to hide his frustration. “You know you need to do a club or after-school activity. It is required by the school and---”

“I play football. That’s my after-school activity.”

What the hell is wrong with me!?

Her soft blue eyes widened; a splash of disappointment spread across her face in an instant.

“You know that does not count toward an activity, Gunner. And with you leaving, all the other football players have applied for other clubs.”

His face was getting hot. The bags in his hands were getting heavier by the second.

“Yeah well, with everything going on, I just don’t feel like I can do it again this year.” He took another look at her: The disappointment still painted her face as she ran her hands through her dirty blonde hair. “I know my dad wanted the team to support the musical and stage crew, but I just can’t this year.” He pulled away, quickly shuffling to the door. “I’ll talk to Principal Davis tomorrow and see what he says.”

His feet were picking up speed as he threw the door open.

“Gunner!”

He ignored Ms. Summers’ call as the door slammed shut behind him .

Why me? Why the hell does she need me to do---

“Oh shit!” Gunner shouted as he practically ran through a girl who was coming down the sidewalk. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t watching…” His voice trailed off when he realized that it was Hailey standing in front of him, her arms spread out in shock.

It’s her.

“Hailey...” His voice cracked as he tried to gather himself. “I’m so sorry. I was just in a hurry, and I, I should have been more careful. Are you OK?”

She nodded at him but didn’t meet his eyes.

Crack a joke, or tell her she looks nice.

He opened his mouth, but she hurried around him before he could mutter another word.

“Good to see you, Gunner. Have a nice night.”

She threw open the door to the pizza parlor. He heard the front counter’s ringing bell before the door slammed shut behind her.

**********

He almost killed me.

Hailey practically sprinted to the pizza parlor’s cash register. A small line at the front caused her to abruptly halt and, finally, take another breath.

Why do I keep running into him?

She was analyzing her fingernails as she waited for the other customer to get her food. The fact that this football player was eating up so much of her thoughts made her want to stomp her foot.

Sure, he was cute. His bright green eyes, his sleek, dark brown hair, had made her hesitate for a second at last weekend’s party. However, he was the quarterback of the football team, and Juliana had told her everything she needed to know about him and his cheerleader girlfriend.

Typical football player.

After only a few days of school, she was already sick of hearing about Gunner Weston and his football team. She hated the sport, and she hated that her father had gotten back into coaching. Football had ruined their family two years ago, and she was convinced when they left California that they were finally done with it.

“Ms. Bianchi!” The voice of the other customer shook her from her thoughts.

Crap.

“Ms. Summers!” Hailey smiled, trying to seem happy to see her.

“I am so glad I ran into you.” Her teacher waved off the man behind the counter, who seemed upset by something she had said to him. “I wanted to speak with you, but I know how crazy the first week of school can be.”

You have no idea.

Hailey reluctantly kept the smile plastered on her face, but her gaze fell to the ground.

“How are you doing? I can only imagine how different this is for you.”

Very different.

Her teacher’s gaze was welcoming enough to allow Hailey to relax a bit. The craziness and noise of the pizza parlor did not appear to overwhelm this woman at all.

“It’s OK. Different, but everyone has been nice. ”

Well, almost everyone.

She had felt the tension with Juliana’s friend, Bridgette, the minute they’d met. It did not help that Juliana had told the entire group that she had come from a performing arts school in California. She could tell instantly that they were intimidated by her, and she could feel the uneasiness every time she entered the room.

Why do I have to be so different?

“I know it can be intimidating, transferring to a new school, but the kids here really are nice.”

Right.

Ms. Summers paused. The awkwardness grew as Hailey tried to figure out something else to say.

“Thanks,” she said finally.

“Well, I spoke with Juelz, and she told me that she introduced you to some of the other students in my Theatre Club.”

Here we go.

Hailey’s smile wavered as Ms. Summers continued.

“I really hope you can join us in the musical this year. You have such a great background in performing arts, and I won’t lie to you: I need as many people as I can get.”

I’m sure you do.

Hailey yanked at her tee shirt as she desperately glanced toward the pick-up counter, hoping with all her might that her name would be called.

“I am definitely thinking about it,” she lied, trying to move a bit closer to the cash register .

“Good!” Ms. Summers’ voice had excitement in it that Hailey was not able to match. “I actually handpicked the musical for this year.” Abruptly, her teacher’s ecstatic grin faltered.

“I heard,” Hailey said softly as she watched Ms. Summers regain her composure. “Juliana could not stop talking about it the other night.”

All night.

Ms. Summers cleared her throat and lowered her voice to a more serious tone.

“I know most of the students think the story is just some girl falling in love with a beast while talking to a bunch of household objects, but,” she looked toward the door, “I think it means so much more. If we do it right, it will be magical.”

Magical?

Hailey’s smile wavered as the parlor owner placed a bag on the counter.

“It’s certainly a special play.” She nodded at the man as he finally called her name.

“I would love for you to try out for the lead.”

No way.

She was frozen for a second as she stared at the linoleum tiles on the floor, trying with all her power to push herself forward to the counter.

Deep breath, Hailey.

“Well, I am sure you have some great people who can play that for you.”

The words were forced, and she remained with her back turned to her teacher.

Please just leave .

Her chest was getting tight, and she could feel knots starting to ball up in her stomach as the silence stretched between them.

“Think about it, Hailey. You were born to be the lead.”

Please, just leave me alone!

Ms. Summers’ comment made her hand tremble as she pulled the money from her pocket. She could hear the teacher move through the door; her shoulders relaxed a bit when it slammed behind her. The man behind the counter held a stern frown as he gave her the bag of food, and he hardly acknowledged her when she handed him the money.

“Tell your father I said good luck tomorrow.” He was heading back toward the grill before the change he had given even hit her hand.

“Thanks,” she murmured, glancing at the picture on the counter.

What a stupid town.

The man who had just left was hugging a football coach. The two both smiled widely as they held some dumb sign for a fundraiser.

Just get through the year.

She twisted away, hastily making her way back to the door and throwing it open.