Danny sat in a chair, staring out the window of his new apartment. It wasn't much to look at, but it was clean, and the landlady seemed nice enough. He didn't need anyone asking how old he was, or why he had suddenly shown up in Bozeman.
Of course, his bike had drawn a look or two from the locals as soon as he arrived in town. He knew they were dying to figure him out – every small town he'd passed had been virtually the same. Despite that, he thought that maybe Montana might work for him. He was tired of traveling, and his money was starting to run low. Eventually, he was going to have to settle down.
Besides, anywhere was better than where he had been.
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Stella flinched slightly as Jessica Angell slammed her locker shut. "Rough day?" she asked.
Her friend sighed, and the two of them turned and started walking down the hallway. "I'm failing chem."
"I thought you didn't know how to fail."
"This stuff is totally over my head, Stella. I just don't get it."
"I'm still impressed you're taking the class at all. You're certainly the only cheerleader actually striving for academic excellence."
"Yeah, well…" Jess shrugged. "Need good grades if I'm gonna go to college, ya know?"
Stella looked at her closely. "Is that you talking, or your dad?"
She rolled her eyes. "Me, mostly." She paused. "I think I wanna teach."
Her friend smiled. "I think that would suit you really well."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Jess' smile faded. "Then I have to pass chem."
"I know some of the tutors," Stella suggested. "I could see which ones specialize in the sciences and get you some time with them."
"A tutor?" she asked skeptically.
"They're all students," she assured her. "And they're all pretty nice. You said it yourself, Jess – you need to pass chemistry. And probably with something better than a 'C'."
Her friend sighed. "Just try and get me someone who doesn't think all cheerleaders are evil and stupid, okay?"
Stella laughed. "I'll see what I can do."
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"Bonasera!"
Stella rolled her eyes as she kept walking, knowing that he would catch up to her eventually – he always did. And sure enough, a few seconds later he was by her side, his black and red varsity jacket setting him apart from the other students around them.
"Hey, Stell."
"Flack."
"You don't sound too happy to see me."
"Maybe that's because you don't seem to know how to take no for an answer."
"C'mon," he said, shifting his backpack higher on his shoulder. "I haven't asked ya out in weeks."
"And yet you're still here."
Even out of the corner of her eye, Stella could see the hurt expression that flashed across his face. "You didn't say we couldn't be friends," he said quietly.
She couldn't help but smirk at him. "No, I guess I didn't."
His smile was back immediately. "So I can walk ya out to your car?"
Stopping, she turned to face him. "Isn't that against some varsity rule, Flack? I don't exactly hang out with your circle."
"You know I don't play any of that popularity bullshit, Stell."
Her expression gentled. "I know."
They turned and started to walk again, heading towards the student parking lot. Flack waved to most of the guys, but he didn't seem to really look at them.
"Why were you stayin' late?" he finally asked.
Stella shrugged. "Yearbook stuff. I take it you had practice?"
"Yeah." He paused, seeing that they were almost to her car. "You goin' to the game Friday?"
"Kinda have to. A game against our rivals…the yearbook wants pictures."
He shifted nervously. "So I'll see ya there?"
Stella rolled her eyes again, but this time there was a smile on her face. "You just don't give up, do you?"
His blue eyes sparkled. "Not when it's worth it."
"Flatterer."
She climbed into her car and shut the door before rolling down the window. Flack just grinned at her.
"See ya tomorrow, Stell."
Waving at him, she put the car in gear and backed out of the spot. She glanced in her rearview mirror just before leaving the lot and she saw that Don was still standing there, smiling in her direction. She shook her head and focused on the road – all the while cursing herself for blushing.
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Adam frowned as he opened up the textbook and began scanning through the section titles. It had been awhile since he'd done average chemistry, and he wanted to brush up on the basics before he tried to help anyone else.
He hadn't wanted to take on any tutoring. At the beginning of the year, Ms. Dessler had put him in charge of the program, and now he spent his time processing requests and scheduling sessions. But Stella had practically begged him, saying that one of her friends needed science help, and needed someone who wasn't going to talk down to her. And he had to admit – his two science tutors had some superiority issues, especially when it came to their more popular classmates.
His eyes drifted away from the page he was reading as he noticed a pair of very attractive legs standing next to the table. Slowly, his eyes made their way over the smooth skin and across the skirt and top that marked her as a cheerleader. By the time his gaze finally rested on her face, she was giving him a pointed look, one eyebrow arched.
"You Adam Ross?" she asked.
"Ummm…yeah."
She nodded and took the seat next to him. "I'm Jess."
"Right. Stella's friend." He frowned slightly. "And a cheerleader. She, uh, she didn't mention that part."
"Is that going to be a problem?" Jess asked, her voice hard.
"No, I –"
"Look, I know you're one of the smart kids, and I'm just a bimbo with pompoms, but do you think you could refrain from treating me like one? I do my work, I get good grades, I just don't get chem."
Adam's eyes had widened steadily during her small tirade, and now he ducked his head, blushing furiously.
"No, that's…I didn't mean…I'm sorry –"
Her expression gentled and she sighed, reaching over and resting her hand on his arm.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. You didn't deserve that."
Her touch only seemed to make him more nervous, though. "I, uh…I only meant…" He shook his head. "Nevermind."
Jess mentally kicked herself. "I'm serious, Adam. That wasn't about you. I just – I hate having to ask for help." She paused, swallowing her pride. "But I need your help with this stuff. Please."
He nodded, turning to look at her. "Okay."
She gave him a small smile as she pulled out her books. "So where do we start?"
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Stella hurried up the walkway as soon as she had the car parked, pushing the door open and dropping her bag on the floor.
"Is that you Stella?"
She smiled as she walked into the kitchen. "Yeah, Sandy. Sorry I'm late."
""That's okay, dear. Dinner's almost ready though. Why don't you go help Lindsay set the table?"
"Sure." Walking into the dining room, she saw that her friend was already pulling down the silverware and plates. "Hey, Linds."
"Hey," she said, handing over the forks and knives. "You're late."
Stella shrugged. "Yearbook."
Lindsay gave her a knowing look. "Yearbook never makes you this late, Stell."
"I had work to do."
"You're blushing."
"I am not."
"And now you're blushing even more." Lindsay stopped, hands on her hips. "Were you talking to Don Flack again?"
"No."
"Liar." By now, Lindsay was grinning. "He likes you."
Stella sighed. "I know."
"I don't get that," she said, shaking her head. "You act like it's a bad thing. You've got the cutest boy in school chasing after you, and he's not even a jerk like most of the guys on the team. Why won't you give him a chance?"
"You know why."
Lindsay moved over to her and rested a hand gently on her arm. "You need to let that go, Stella."
She shook her head. "I made this mistake once. I won't do it again."
"So you're just going to push him away? Pretend that you don't like him?"
"He's better off without me. Trust me, kiddo. I'm doing him a favor."
They both looked up as Sandy came into the room, carrying the main course of their dinner. "No, you're not," she said quietly. Then her smile was back on and she moved forward to help her mom.
"Thanks, sweetheart," she said warmly. "Would you go get your father? I think he's out on the back porch."
"I'll get him," Stella offered.
She found him sitting in his favorite chair, a book in his hand as the sun was setting in the distance. Leaning against the doorframe, she watched him for a while, loving how safe she felt just being near him.
"Did you need something Stella? Or were you just admiring my profile?"
She rolled her eyes and laughed, coming out to sit next to him. "You knew I was there the whole time, didn't you?"
"Of course I did," he said. He marked his place and then set the book down before turning to look at her. "And how was your day?"
"It was okay."
"I heard my daughter teasing you about a boy."
"Your daughter has too much time on her hands."
He looked at her for a long moment. "You've become my daughter too, Stella. You know that. And if you'll let me, I'd like to impart a little fatherly wisdom here." He waited until she met his eyes before continuing. "You cannot let one person dictate how you interact with everyone else."
She waited. "That's it?"
"I think that's enough for one day."
She chuckled. "Thanks, Brian."
"Trust me, Stella. What I just told you is much easier to hear than it is to act upon."
"Are you two coming to dinner or what?"
Brian nodded to his daughter, standing in the doorway with an exasperated look on her face. "We're coming." Turning, he helped Stella to her feet. "Aren't we?"
Stella gave him a small smile. "We are."
Dinner in the Monroe house was always Stella's favorite part of the day. The four of them would talk and laugh, sharing stories whether they were happy or sad. The dinner table was a safe place to talk about what was going on, to think out loud any decisions that you were faced with. Both Sandy and Brian were calm parents, who listened to the girls with their complete attention, imparting any wisdom and guidance that they could.
"Oh," Stella said suddenly as she swallowed the last of her food. "I forgot to mention – the car was making a funny noise on the way home today."
Brian frowned. "Funny how?"
"Funny as in…not a sound it's made before? I don't know much about cars except that they take me where I need to go."
"Hmm. I guess I'll need to take it to the shop. I don't want it breaking down while one of you two girls is driving it."
"I can take it," Lindsay offered. "I have study hall in the morning, so I can take the car on my way in. That way you don't have to be late for work."
"That's very sweet of you, dear," her mother said.
Brian nodded. "I'll leave the money on the counter. Just tell Mitch to make the noise stop and give the car a once-over, okay?"
Lindsay nodded. "Sounds good."
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Stella and Lindsay got ready for bed like they did every night, the routine so ingrained in them that neither gave it a second thought. The two girls had shared a room for more than ten years, and had grown comfortable with each other early on. When Stella had first moved in, a girl traumatized by the deaths of her parents, she had retreated into herself, ignoring the little girl that tried so hard to be her friend.
But Lindsay had been persistent, in the way only a seven-year-old could be, and the two had become like sisters. Even as they entered high school and gained friends outside of each other, they continued to share a room, and to share everything about their hopes and fears and dreams.
"I saw Chad Williams today," Stella remarked as she climbed into bed.
Lindsay sighed and rolled her eyes. "Well aren't you lucky."
"He asked about you."
"Of course he did."
"You know, I find it funny that you're encouraging me to go out with the star quarterback, but you won't even give the class president the time of day."
Lindsay shook her head, busying herself with putting lotion on her legs. "Chad Williams is a far cry from Don Flack."
Stella's expression and voice gentled. "I know. I'm sorry, I was just teasing you."
She sighed. "I know. And I shouldn't be this defensive about it anymore. It's like…he can't believe that I would have the audacity to break up with him."
"In his mind, he can't comprehend a girl who wouldn't fall at his feet."
Lindsay smirked. "Which is why you make him so mad."
"And now so do you." Stella paused. "Just be careful with him, okay?"
"What do you mean? I'm not getting back together with him."
"I know that. But guys like that…they think they're entitled to things, Lindsay. And sometimes that can make them a little crazy."
She frowned. "You think he'd hurt me?"
"Do you?"
Lindsay thought for a long minute before answering. "The last time I talked to him, I didn't like the look in his eyes," she said quietly. Then she nodded. "I get what you're saying. I'll be careful."
"Good." Pulling the covers up around her, Stella reached up to shut off the light. "Goodnight."
Her voice was hushed when she answered, staring up into the darkness of the room. "Night, Stell."
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Danny took another sip of his coffee, his mind slowly clearing of the morning fog that enveloped it. It had been a long time since he'd had to be up so early, but he knew that in time he would get used to it again – if for no other reason than the fact that he had to.
Mitch Carlin had given him a job almost immediately. The old man asked him to finish the work on one of the cars in the shop, and by the time Danny was finished, Carlin was impressed and the job was his. It was obvious the mechanic was getting tired of getting up early every morning to open the garage, and he didn't hesitate in handing the keys over to Danny.
"Open at seven," was all he said.
Danny sighed and looked over at the clock on the wall. 7:30. He wondered just how many people in Bozeman needed their cars fixed on a regular basis.
But just then, somebody pulled up in a blue Plymouth. It was a sensible car, something he expected to see many of the husbands and fathers driving around town. Which was why he was so surprised when a young girl of sixteen or seventeen stepped out from the driver's side.
He had to admit she was cute. Her baby blue skirt almost perfectly matched the car, and the white shirt she was wearing showed off some pretty nice curves. Her dark blonde hair was swept up in a ponytail, and Danny noticed with an amused smile that the bow used to secure it matched the skirt.
When she saw him standing just inside the garage, she frowned slightly, and her steps slowed as she looked around.
"Is Mr. Carlin here?" she asked.
Danny shook his head and set down his coffee mug. "He's got me openin' now."
Realization dawned in her eyes. "You must be his new hire."
His eyebrows shot up. "Guess word travels fast around here."
She shrugged. "Small town." Her nose crinkled, and the sight almost made Danny laugh. "Your accent…where are you from?"
He had planned on lying. But when he opened his mouth, the truth came out first, and there was no way to take it back.
"New York."
"City or state?"
"City."
"Wow. Why on earth would you leave New York City to come here?"
He just shrugged and smiled at her. "Wanted some fresh air for a change." He stuck out his hand. "Danny Messer."
She smiled as they shook hands. "Lindsay Monroe."
His eyes sparkled. "So, Lindsay Monroe. What can I do for you?"
"The car is making a funny noise."
"Funny? Is that a technical term?"
Lindsay rolled her eyes and led him over to the vehicle. "Just drive it around the block and you'll hear it. Then I'm sure you can find the technical term for it."
"Touché." She handed him the keys, and he squinted in the morning light. "When do ya need it back by?"
"Before Friday would be great."
He glanced over at her. "Got a hot date?"
She shook her head, her ponytail bouncing. "Football game."
"You don't strike me as the cheerleadin' type. Or the football playin', for that matter."
That made her laugh, and he realized that that was what he had been going for. "You're right. On both counts. But football is a pretty big deal in this town, and we're playing our rivals, so…" She shrugged.
Danny nodded. "Maybe I should check it out then."
"Maybe you should."
For a second, he found himself staring at her, taking in the way the sun hit her skin, and the playfulness in her eyes. Then he shook himself out of it and gestured toward the car. "Wanna lift? I can drop ya off at the school, and hear that noise for myself."
She grinned. "The funny one."
"Yeah. The funny one."
She looked at him for a moment and then nodded, walking over to the passenger's side. "Sounds good."
Stella shook her head as she walked over to the football field. She had stayed late with the other yearbook editor, figuring that it would be easier to walk to the game instead of driving.
And she had been right. Parked cars spilled out onto the grass, and judging by the noise in the stands, the whole town had come out to see them play Helena High. She really hoped that Lindsay had remembered to save a seat for her – otherwise, she'd never get pictures.
When she neared the stands, however, she found that she had no reason to worry. Her friend was keeping an eye out, and jumped to her feet as soon as she saw her.
"Stella! Up here!"
She waded through the crowd, stepping carefully on the wooden bleachers as she tried not to squash anyone's fingers or toes.
"Did I miss anything?" she asked, taking a seat.
Lindsay shook her head. "Game hasn't started yet." She nodded at her friend's hands. "I see you've got your camera."
"I told you – they want pictures of the game for the yearbook. Do you really think I'd be here otherwise?"
"Absolutely."
"Oh? And why's that?"
Instead of answering, Lindsay just pointed down to the field. Stella's gaze followed, and she soon found herself looking at Don Flack. He had his helmet in hand, and his eyes were eagerly scanning the crowd. With a pang of something that felt suspiciously like jealously, Stella wondered who he was looking for. But then his eyes landed on her, and his entire face lit up. Hesitantly, he raised a hand, waving at her, and Stella found that she had already returned the gesture before she'd even had a chance to think about it.
"That boy has got it so bad for you, Stella."
"You need to let that go."
Lindsay just rolled her eyes, but she could see that she was making her friend uncomfortable. "I met a guy the other day," she finally said.
Stella's eyebrows shot up. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "Mr. Carlin's new mechanic. He's the one that fixed the car and drove me to school the other day."
"And?"
"And what?"
"Do not make me beg for details, Lindsay Monroe."
That made her blush slightly. "He's cute. And kinda charming." When Stella just kept staring her, she laughed. "Alright, alright. He's from New York City, his name is Danny, and that's really all I know about him."
"Except that he's cute and charming."
"Kind of charming," she corrected.
"So when are you gonna see him again?"
She shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "I don't know. I mentioned the game tonight."
Stella smirked as she raised her camera and began taking pictures. "He must be really cute."
Before Lindsay could come up with a reply, someone was coming toward them, gently pushing through the crowd until he could squeeze in next to Stella.
"Hey, Adam," she said warmly.
He waved to both of them. "Hey."
"I didn't expect to see you here."
"Everyone else is here."
Lindsay's nose crinkled as she frowned. "But you don't like football."
"The sport's okay. I'm just…I don't really like the guys on the team. So I think it's kind of silly to come out here and cheer for them."
Stella watched him closely. "So why are you here tonight?"
Adam shrugged. "Your friend Jess, the one I'm tutoring?" He shrugged again. "She, uh…we got off to a rough start. I'm just…I'm trying to be supportive. Maybe smooth things out between us." He paused. "Try to convince her that I, I don't think all cheerleaders are just bimbos with pompoms."
She frowned. "Did you tell her that you thought that?"
He shook his head. "No. But she, uh, she misunderstood me, and she got mad…it's gonna make this tutoring thing easier if she doesn't hate me."
"That's sweet," Lindsay said.
"Self-preservation," he corrected. "I'm pretty sure Jess could beat me up if she wanted to."
Stella smiled as she turned the camera on the cheerleaders. "I'm pretty sure you're right," she laughed.
Don never saw the hit coming. The bright lights lit up the entire field, but they also narrowed his field of vision. Blood pounding in his ears, he yelled "HIKE!" and the ball was snapped back to him. His eyes immediately searched for the teammate he knew should be there, but instead he only saw a sea of white and red Bengals, anxious to get the ball away from him.
His right side should have been protected by Dean Wilcox. Finally spotting an opening, Flack pulled his arm back and threw the ball to one of his teammates. He saw the catch made, but before he could even smile about it, a solid body crashed into his own, and he heard his ribs creak as he was plowed under.
Whistles blew and he heard booing coming from the stands, but it felt like an eternity before the heavy load on top of him was lifted. Blinking against the harsh lights, Don tried to keep his head from swimming, and then the lights were gone, and all he could see was the concerned and angry face of his coach.
"Don? Don!"
"What?" he finally groaned.
"You okay?"
"Think so," he muttered.
"Then let's get you off of the field."
When he was on his feet again, he saw that the coach had called a timeout, and the other team was already huddled around their own bleachers. By the time he reached his own team, Flack had realized that he wasn't hurt badly, and his pain had been replaced by anger.
"Hey, Wilcox!" he called. "Where the hell were you, man?"
The blonde shrugged in apology. "Couldn't get there in time, Donnie. Never saw the dude comin'."
He wanted to yell some more, upset at something he saw in his teammate's face, but the coach squeezed his shoulder, telling him to let it go.
"Alright, you two. I don't want to see anything else like that happen on that field tonight, you got me?" Everyone nodded, and he turned to Don. "You okay to go back out there?"
"I'm good, Mac," he answered.
"Good. Then get your asses back out there and win this game!"
They broke the huddle and jogged back out onto the field, lining up in their positions again. Glancing up into the stands, Flack's eyes immediately went to where he had seen Stella before. With all the lights, he couldn't see her from that distance, but it made him feel better to know that she was there.
The other team was lining up by then, and he pulled his mind back into the game. Turning his head, he looked over to make sure Dean was where he was supposed to be, and found his teammate giving him a knowing smile.
Wondering what the hell that was about, Flack waited for the whistle.
Stella was clutching Lindsay's arm so tightly, she was sure there would be bruises there in the morning. As she watched Don get up and move over to the side of the field with Coach Taylor, her grip loosened some, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The crowd was still booing loudly at the illegal hit, but all she could hear was the hammering of her heart, and she closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to calm down.
"He's alright," Lindsay reassured her, leaning to the side so she could talk in Stella's ear. "Look, he's back out on the field."
Her eyes opened again, and immediately went to where Don stood. She knew he couldn't see her in the midst of the crowd, with the lights shining so brightly, but even so, it felt as though his gaze was locked on her for a moment before he turned his attention back to the game.
"That was one hell of a hit," Adam muttered.
"Not to mention illegal," Lindsay added. Glancing over at Stella, she rested her hand on her friend's arm and squeezed it gently. "Let's hope that doesn't happen again."
Stella could only nod.
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When the game was finally over, and the residents of Bozeman were celebrating loudly on the way to their cars, Adam said goodbye to Lindsay and Stella. Hands in his pockets, he moved down the bleachers until he reached the edge of the field and then looked at his watch and frowned. If he hurried, he might be able to make it home before curfew.
"Ross!"
He turned around, surprised to see Jessica Angell jogging over to him. Her face was flushed and her eyes dancing, her spirits still up from them having beaten Helena High. He was struck again by just how beautiful she was and then shook his head, chasing those thoughts away.
"Hey."
"Hi." She looked around, as though trying to figure out what exactly she wanted to say. "You came."
Adam shrugged, trying not to blush. "You guys did good."
She rolled her eyes. "The guys did all the heavy lifting." Giving him a smirk, she continued. "Besides, we're just a bunch of pretty girls spelling words with our arms."
He winced. "Jess, I really didn't mean that…"
"Don't worry about it, Ross."
He sighed, knowing that she didn't really understand. "I didn't expect you to be stupid – I expected you to be mean. I was surprised because…because I thought Stella would give me a heads up, give me time to prepare. For a…a…"
Her eyes were curious as she watched him. "A snotty popular kid?"
Adam hung his head. "I just keep digging that hole deeper, don't I?"
Jess shook her head. "I get it," she said quietly. "You might not think that, but I do." She looked around again, hugging herself. "Thanks for coming, Adam. I was surprised to see you, but…I'm glad you came."
He nodded, his face warm. "So, uh…I'll…I'll see you Monday? Last period?"
Her smile was back. "Yeah." There was some shouting behind her, and she turned to see the rest of the squad motioning for her to hurry up.
"You should go."
"Yeah, I guess so. See you Monday, Ross."
He waved goodbye to her even as she turned around and went over to the other girls. He noticed his watch again, and winced, turning for home. There was no way he was going to get in before curfew now.
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Danny was one of the last to come down from the bleachers. He had sat there for a long time, lost in the crowd, and in his own memory. Football had never been his thing, but he remembered going to basketball games, cheering on his older brother as he led the team to victory again and again. Shaking his head, he finished coming down the steps. There was no point in dwelling on things he could never get back to.
He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the older man watching him carefully.
"You're Mitch Carlin's new mechanic, aren't you?"
Danny stopped, surprised to find that someone was speaking to him. Nodding, he turned around to face the man. "Yeah." Not knowing what else to say, he reached out and shook his hand. "Danny Messer."
The man gave him a tight smile. "Mac Taylor."
"Right. The coach." He gestured to the field. "Good game. I get the feelin' that beatin' Helena's a big deal for you guys."
"It's certainly something to be proud of." He paused. "You from back east?"
"Yeah. New York."
Mac nodded. "I grew up in Chicago."
"And you ended up in Montana, huh?"
"No stranger than you ending up here." His eyes narrowed. "How old are you?"
Danny stood up a little straighter. "Nineteen."
"Guess that's why I haven't seen you around the school."
He tensed, waiting for the next question, but it never came.
"It was nice to meet you," Mac continued, his eyes still probing. "Hopefully we'll see you at the next game."
Danny thought about it for a minute. "You just might." Nodding once more, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the parking lot, not noticing the way Mac's eyes followed him the entire way.
Mac strode down the hallways purposefully, just as he always did. The next period had already begun, and the students were all in their classrooms, leaving the school feeling as though it were empty.
As he came up to one of those classrooms, he checked the number to make sure it was the right one. Inside, he saw a young woman standing at the chalkboard, writing dates along a timeline. Her dark hair was curly and pinned up, though a few tendrils escaped down the back of her neck. The sun lit up her skin, and she glowed, her yellow dress only adding to the effect. Staring for a moment longer, Mac finally shook his head and knocked lightly on the door.
"Ms. Dessler?"
She turned at the sound of his voice, her hand poised in the middle of a word. "Yes?"
He stepped in, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm Coach Taylor. You wanted to see me?"
She smiled faintly, though he was aware that her eyes didn't send the same message. Setting down her chalk, she turned and gestured for him to pull up a chair as she sat behind her desk.
"Please, sit."
"Is there a problem?" he asked, lowering himself into the chair.
"Yes and no." She took a deep breath. "Coach Taylor –"
He held up a hand. "Call me Mac."
She smiled, and this time it reached her eyes. "Only if you'll call me Michelle."
"Deal."
Michelle nodded once. "Good. Now, Mac…as you know, your players have to maintain certain grades in order for them to stay on the team."
He frowned. "Have any of them slipped below those grades?"
"No." She hesitated. "Not yet."
"But some of them are close?"
"Unfortunately, yes. Namely Dean Wilcox and Aaron Larsen."
"Two of my starters."
"I understand that. But I can't fake their grades, Mac. I won't –"
"I'm not asking you to," he said firmly. "My guys know they've got to keep their grades up if they want to play." He paused. "I'll talk to both of them. You'll let me know if there are any changes?"
Michelle nodded, obviously relieved. "Yes, thank you."
He looked at her closely. "You were expecting a different reaction."
She looked away. "I'm used to dealing with coaches in small towns. I usually get the speech about how football – or basketball, or baseball – is an integral part of the community, and how I'm being unreasonable to burden their boys with grades."
"And when you didn't fold?" he asked.
Michelle gave him a tight smile. "It was a good thing Bozeman High was hiring," she said simply. Dropping her gaze, she looked at the stack of papers on her desk. "There's one other player we should talk about."
"Okay."
"Don Flack."
This time, Mac's frown was deep. "I have a hard time believing that Don isn't getting good grades."
"He's a smart kid, Mac. He seems to really like history, and I've seen some of the books he's reading. His papers are excellent…but he's not doing well on his tests. He's not failing, and he's in no danger of not being able to play. I just…I don't think he tests well."
"Do you think he needs a tutor?"
"No. I just think he needs some study help. Maybe someone to review with before exams." She paused. "I guess I'm asking you if you think he'd resent that. I don't want to offend him – I just want him to do well."
Mac thought for a long minute. "Don wants to succeed at whatever's put in front of him. Do you have someone in mind to study with him?"
She nodded. "One of my female students. She's patient, and extremely smart."
"Here's my suggestion. Ask her if she'd be willing to study with him, and then have her bring it up. That way he won't feel like he's failing."
"I was actually thinking the same thing."
"Good. Is that all of them?"
"Yes. The rest of your players are doing just fine."
Mac nodded and stood up, extending his hand. "It was nice to meet you, Michelle. Let me know how my guys do, alright?"
She shook his hand, smiling. "Will do. Thanks for meeting with me."
He turned to walk out of the room, but not before glancing back at her once more. She had sat back down, her face turned towards the window as the sun bathed her in light. Shaking his head, Mac smiled and left.
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Jess sat at the table in the library, impatiently bouncing one of her legs up and down. Glancing at the clock again, she saw that Adam was ten minutes late. She wondered if he had forgotten.
But that didn't seem like him. Jess thought back to Friday night, and her surprise at seeing him at the game. She knew he had come for her, to make amends for their first meeting. The misunderstanding had been more her fault than his, but he had still made the effort.
Her eyes flicked to the door again, even though she knew she had checked it only half a minute before. And it hadn't changed – there was still no sign of him.
"Jess?"
She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice, and she turned to see Adam standing right behind her. It almost immediately hit her, how tired his eyes looked, and she wondered how rough a day he'd had.
"Hey," she finally said. "I didn't see you come in."
Adam shrugged, taking the seat on her right. "I was, uh…I was in the stacks." He kept his eyes focused on the textbook he was pulling out. "Sorry I'm late."
It was then that Jess saw the bandage on his left forearm. She was certain that it hadn't been there before, and she reached out tentatively to touch it. Just as her fingers brushed the gauze, though, Adam jerked his arm away and hiding it under the table.
"What happened?"
He blushed, ducking his head even further. "I uh…I burned myself."
Jess frowned. "Doing what?"
"C-cooking. It's nothing…it's not serious."
"Did you get it checked out?"
"It's fine," he said firmly. "Where, uh…where do you wanna start today?"
She watched him carefully for a minute, scrutinizing the red in his cheeks, and the downcast look to his eyes. She wanted to keep questioning him, to figure out why he was suddenly so closed down, but somehow she knew that she wasn't going to get anything more out of him right then. Sighing, she opened her own textbook.
"How about bonds?"
Adam nodded, straightening up as they started in on a topic he was familiar with. "Okay…which kind? Ionic? Chemical? Covalent…" He saw the wide-eyed expression on Jess' face. "That's what you meant, right?"
She nodded. "Yeah, but…maybe we could start with what all those mean? The basics, Ross. Remember?"
He gave her a small smile. "Right. Sorry. Sometimes I get ahead of myself."
"Just remember I'm not a brainiac like you."
"I don't know, Jess…" he said quietly. "You're pretty smart." She blushed slightly, and it gave him a boost of confidence as he shrugged. "You know…for a cheerleader."
That made her laugh, and all the tension that had been there fell away. Leaning closer, Adam flipped through her book and started pointing at the page, explaining things.
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"Lookin' a little bruised there, Donnie."
Flack looked up from his stretches to see Dean Wilcox sitting a few feet away. He was still ticked about the game, remembering the light dancing in his teammate's eyes after he'd been tackled. Everything was a joke to the blonde senior, as though everyone else were just there for his amusement. Normally, Don could ignore all that and be friendly with the guy – but today was just not one of those days.
"Well, maybe if somebody had been watchin' my back like they were supposed to…"
"Hey, I told you, man. I never saw the guy comin'."
"Right," Flack muttered.
They were silent for a few minutes after that, both of them focusing on their stretches. Flack's ribs still hurt from the hit he had taken, but he forced himself to work through it, not wanting to give the coach any reason not to play him.
"Saw you walking with Bonasera the other day."
Dean's voice broke through his focus, and he turned to look at him. "So?"
He shrugged. "Nothing. Startin' to look like you might have a thing for her, though."
"Still not sure how that's any of your business, Wilcox."
Dean held up his hands in defense. "Hey, I'm just trying to do you a favor, man."
"What the hell are you talkin' about?"
"C'mon, Don. You know you could do a lot better than Bonasera."
Flack glared at him. "What, like those blonde bimbos you entertain in the backseat of your car?"
"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, Donnie," Dean said, smiling wickedly.
"No thanks." He paused, making a disgusted noise. "Is there any cheerleader you haven't been with?"
"A couple."
"What, are they on your 'To Do' list?"
Dean winked. "Something like that."
Flack just shook his head, grateful when Coach Taylor blew his whistle, signifying that practice was over. Getting to his feet, he immediately moved away from Dean, wanting nothing more than to punch the guy in the face. Instead, he walked over to the bench and began gathering his things.
"Everything alright?" Mac asked, standing beside him.
Don didn't even look up. "Yeah, why?"
"Your ribs feeling okay?"
He nodded. "A little sore, but I'm fine."
Mac hesitated slightly. "What about you and Dean?"
Flack stood up straight and turned, his full height making him taller than his coach. "Not sure what you're talkin' about."
"Don't give me that bull, Flack. I can see it all over your face."
The younger man shrugged. "He's a jackass," he said quietly, knowing that Mac wouldn't reprimand him for the language.
He looked at him closely, and Don knew he was peeling away to what lay behind his words. "You think he let you get hit on purpose?" he asked finally.
Flack shook his head. "I don't know."
Mac thought about that for a minute. "Let me know if it happens again. I won't have someone on my team who pulls stunts like that." Looking over Don's shoulder, he nodded. "Looks like you've got a visitor. See you tomorrow, Flack."
Don turned to see Jess Angell standing on the other side of the fence that ringed the field. Giving her a nod, he walked over to the gate so that he could join her.
"Hey," he greeted. "What's up?"
She shrugged. "Walk me to the parking lot?"
He frowned, sensing that something was off. "Of course."
They moved away from the field, Don waiting for his friend to say something first. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, noticing the rigid set of her shoulders.
"Can you drive me home?" she asked suddenly. "My brother was supposed to pick me up, but he got stuck at work…"
"Yeah, of course." He frowned again. "What's wrong, Jess?"
She stopped and turned to face him. "Nothing. I just…I didn't want to hang around that close to Dean Wilcox."
His mind flashing back to the conversation he'd just had with his teammate, Flack tensed. "Why? He do somethin'?"
Jess shook her head. "Not really. It's just…he's made it abundantly clear that he's interested…even though I've made it abundantly clear that I'm not."
His jaw hurt from clenching it so hard. "He done anything I need to kick his ass for?"
She reached out and rested her hand on his arm. "No. He's been nothing more than…vocally appreciative of my looks."
"It goes any further than that, you let me know, okay? 'Cause I'll get your brothers and we'll kick the crap out of him."
Jess smiled. "You're a good friend, Flack."
He nodded. "C'mon, let's get you home." As they opened the doors and climbed into the car, he looked over at her again. " Jess?"
"Yeah?"
"I meant what I said. If he makes a move, let me know. And don't get caught alone with him."
She looked as though she wanted to laugh it off, but his eyes were too serious, and she finally just nodded. Taking a deep breath, Flack started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.
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"And where are you two headed off to?"
Lindsay turned to face her father, the car keys in her hand. He sat in his chair, reclining back with his feet in the air and his nose stuck in a book.
"The diner. A bunch of us are meeting up there, remember?"
He still didn't look up. "Will there be boys there?"
Stella rolled her eyes. "Unless the good sisters of St. Catherine's have taken over…"
Brian chuckled as he finally looked over the top of his book at them. "Be nice to the nuns, Stella."
She smiled. "Yes, sir."
"Just be good, girls. And don't stay out too late."
They both made their promises and then headed out the door.
"Oh my God, he's here."
Stella reached over and gently pried her friend's fingers from around her arm. "Who?"
"Danny."
Her friend's eyebrows went up, and she followed Lindsay's gaze across the diner. "Wow," she replied. "He is cute." She turned back, and then kicked her under the table. "Stop staring."
Lindsay jerked her head back around and nodded, her cheeks pink. "Right. Stopping." She took a deep breath. "You need to distract me."
Stella chuckled and shook her head as she slid out of the booth. "You can distract yourself. I need to go remind Norm to not burn my burger."
She walked toward the counter, smirking at the way Lindsay stared at her with wide eyes. It was obvious that her friend had a serious crush on the new mechanic, and Stella had to admit that she enjoyed torturing her just a little.
"Well hello there, Ms. Bonasera," Norm said from his place behind the counter.
"Hey, Norm."
"Something I can do for you?"
"Just wanted to make sure you weren't burning anything."
He laughed at that, deep and genuine. "You mean your burger. Don't you worry, Ms. Bonasera. I keep a special eye on yours."
Stella grinned. "Thanks, Norm."
"Hey there, Stell."
She turned to see Don Flack standing behind her, a coke in his hand and a shy smile on his face. His blue eyes struck her, and she found herself smiling broadly at him.
"Hey, Don." She glanced around him. "Who are you here with?"
He shrugged. "No one."
"You just came here to hang out alone?" she asked skeptically.
He hesitate slightly, glancing down at the floor. "I was hopin' you might show up."
"And why would that matter to you?"
Her eyes widened as he blushed and shrugged again. "Thought maybe you'd like to dance," he said quietly.
Stella almost said no. The response was automatic, something she had played over so often in her head. But as she looked at Don standing in front of her, she could see the hope and shyness shining in his blue eyes.
"I'd love to," she whispered.
For a minute, he just stared at her like he hadn't heard her right. Then he grinned broadly, and she felt like the entire room lit up. Reaching out, he gently took her hand in his and led her over to the jukebox.
The words of "Earth Angel" came through the speakers, and instead of chuckling at the sappiness like she normally did, Stella found herself moving just a little closer to Flack, her arms looped around his shoulders. His hands rested comfortably on her hips, occasionally tightening their grip as though he were afraid she'd suddenly slip away.
"I'm glad you came tonight, Stell."
"You just never give up, do you?" she asked, but her voice was hushed and her eyes bright.
He looked at her closely. "Do you really want me to?"
All she could do was shake her head slightly and move a little closer.
Don lowered his head until his mouth was closer to her ear. "Let me drive you home," he murmured.
Stella let her fingers dance along the back of his neck, for once forcing her mind to shut up.
"Okay," she whispered.
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Lindsay was staring hard at her food, trying not to look around the diner. Every time she raised her eyes, they immediately shifted to Danny, sitting up at the counter and drinking a milkshake. She sighed as she realized that once again she was looking at him, staring at the black leather jacket he wore. Forcing her eyes back to her burger, she tried to think of something else.
"Lindsay?"
She almost dropped her food at the sound of his voice, and she looked up to see Danny standing right in front of her, hands deep in his pockets. Swallowing quickly, she tried to give him a relaxed smile, even though she knew she was probably far from the mark.
"Hey."
"Not sure if you remember me…"
She nodded, wondering how he could think she'd forget him. "Danny."
He smiled at that. "Yeah. I just, uh…I just wanted to say hi."
"Why don't you sit down?"
"I saw you with your friend…I wouldn't want to take her seat."
Lindsay rolled her eyes, gesturing to the other side of the diner. "Stella's busy dancing with Flack. She won't be back for a while."
Danny glanced over his shoulder as he sat down, a knowing smile on his face. "Ahh. I see that now. That her man?"
"No. They haven't quite gotten that far."
"Slowpokes, huh?"
"You have no idea."
He nodded, looking around them. "So this is what kids do around here, huh?"
"Must seem pretty boring to someone from New York."
Danny shrugged. "Nah. Nice and quiet. I like that."
She watched him carefully, a smile playing on her lips. "So you think you'll stay?"
He looked her straight in the eye. "I think there's a few things worth stickin' around for."
"Lindsay?"
They both looked up to see Stella standing there, nervously wringing her hands in front of her.
"Hey," Lindsay greeted. "Danny, this is my friend Stella. Stella…this is Danny."
Stella nodded at him, giving him a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you." She turned to Lindsay. "Don is going to give me a ride home," she said quietly.
Lindsay looked at her pointedly. "Good."
Rolling her eyes, Stella set the keys on the table. "I just wanted to drop these off." Her eyes flitted to Danny for a moment. "And make sure you get home at a decent time, or Brian will have my head, okay?"
She nodded. "Okay."
They watched as Don came up and rested his hand in the small of Stella's back. He led her from the diner, the tiny bells above the door jingling as they exited.
"Brian?" Danny asked.
"My dad," Lindsay explained. "Stella lives with me."
He frowned. "What happened to her parents?"
She shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not really sure that's my story to tell. But she's lived with me for a really long time. We're like sisters."
"That's nice." He nodded at the keys. "Guess this means I can't drive ya home, huh?"
Lindsay smiled at him. "Not this time."
His eyebrows rose. "But maybe next time?"
Her smile broadened.
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Don slowed the pickup to a stop in front of Stella's driveway, not wanting everyone in the house to know that he had given her a ride home. They had gone the whole way in silence, and he was worried that she was going to give him the brush-off again, but she made no move for the door handle. Finally, he decided that he was just going to go for it.
"Do you wanna go see a movie Saturday night?"
He glanced over at her, seeing the way she stared at him with wide eyes, and his heart started to sink.
"Don…"
He tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're gonna turn me down again aren't you?"
Stella watched him for a minute and then shook her head. "No."
He frowned. "No, you don't wanna go to the movies or no you're not turnin' me down?"
She smiled. "No, I'm not turning you down." She paused. "I'd love to see a movie with you, Don."
Flack grinned at her, his eyes bright. "Wow. You finally said yes."
Stella shrugged. "I'm tired of running."
"You don't ever have to run from me. You know that, right?"
"I'm starting to learn it." She turned to look out her window. "I should probably go in."
He nodded. "Right." She reached for the door handle, just as he reached out for the hand that rested between them. "Stell –"
She turned back around and then his lips were on hers, soft and gentle. They stayed like that for a long minute, Stella's free hand coming up to touch his face. When they finally parted, he brushed his nose against hers.
"Pick ya up at six?"
Stella nodded, knowing that she was grinning from ear to ear. "Six."
Don pulled back to his side of the truck and squeezed her hand one last time. "Night, Stell."
She hopped out of the truck and shut the door before glancing back at him through the open window. "Goodnight, Don."