All too quickly, Billy and Tim were back at the high school. They walked through the winding halls until they got to Coach Taylor's office. He was watching game tape with the assistant coaches.

Billy knocked on the door.

Eric paused the tape and waved the boys in.

"Coach, can we have a few minutes of your time?" Billy asked.

"Sure, sure." Turning back to the other coaches, "Y'all watch that defensive end. We need to know what pass rushes that kid uses. What are his strengths and weaknesses? I want a game-plan for stunts, blitzes and defensive fronts. Ok? I'll be back shortly."

"Got it."

"Will do."

"Let's head out to the field," Coach Taylor said. "Get some fresh air."

The boys followed him into the stadium.

"Alright. What can I do for y'all?"

Tim cleared his throat and said, "Uh, me and Billy went to see Mr. Noble. I'm gonna work there on Saturdays until the window is paid for."

"Well now, that is good to hear," Coach said nodding. "And? What else?"

"…Um, I asked him to forgive me and he did."

The man nodded again. "And…?"

"…Uh, well," Tim replied, clearly uncomfortable. "Billy whupped me, if that's what you want to know."

"Ok," Eric said. "Not really what I was after, but also good to know. What I am wonderin' is how you're going to patch things up with Smash."

"Oh, I'll apologize to him at practice today. See if I can make things right."

"Good plan, son. Good plan."

Suddenly, Coach Taylor turned to face Tim, making hard eye contact with the boy. "Riggins, do you want to be on this team?"

"Yes, Coach."

"I mean, do you really want it? Are you willin' to do the work and put in the time?"

"Yes, Coach."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Coach."

"Good. Good. Because I want you here. You have a lot to offer this team. However, right now, you're makin' it hard to keep you."

Tim dropped his eyes to the ground.

"Look at me when I'm talkin' to you," the man commanded.

The teen quickly straightened up, making eye contact again.

"You will be on time to practice. You will be sober. You will be a good leader and a good teammate. You will study the plays and know your job. Do you understand what you must do to stay on this team?"

"Yes, Coach. I do. ...I will do all those things."

"Good. One more thing," Eric paused, assessing the boy's demeanor. "Tomorrow, you'll be in my office at 3 PM to answer for walkin' out on practice. I haven't used that paddle the School Board gave me in a long time, but I'm sure I can remember how."

Tim looked thunderstruck.

"Do you understand?" Coach asked.

"Yessir," the boy murmured.

"Do you have any questions for me? …Either of you," the man added.

"No, Coach," both boys replied.

"Alright, well, thank you for comin' by. Glad we got that cleared up."

Eric stuck out his hand to shake Billy's. He nodded and smiled reassuringly at the young man.

"Thanks, Coach," Billy said. "Do you think we could talk to Mrs. Taylor too?"

"I'm sure you can. Y'all head that way and I'll give her a call to let her know you're comin'."

A note hung on the Guidance Office door: Be with you in a few minutes. Billy sat on bench across from the door and Tim stood, occasionally leaning back against the wall.

After five minute or so, the office door opened and Tyra emerged, followed by Mrs. Taylor.

"Hey, Billy," the girl said. "Whatcha doin' here? Come to get some career advice?"

Billy smiled, "Not today, Tyra."

"Hey," she said, turning to Tim. "You talk to Smash yet?"

"Nah," the boy said quietly. "But I will. …Look, I gotta go. Me and Billy got some stuff to do."

"Ok. Don't let me keep you," Tyra said and headed off down the hall without a second glance.

Tim sighed and walked into the office without a word.

Mrs. Taylor raised her eyebrows, smiled at Billy, and said, "Come on in."

She walked around her desk and said, "Y'all have a seat."

Billy took a seat and looked over at his brother still standing near the back wall.

"Come over here and sit down, Tim."

"Can't I just…"

"No. I wasn't asking," the young man said firmly.

Tim eased into the heavy wooden chair and winced slightly.

"Ok, how can I help, boys?" Mrs. Taylor asked.

"I wanted to go over some of the teacher concerns we discussed this mornin'," Billy stated.

"Sure. Tim has been tardy frequently. He has an attitude with some teachers and often falls asleep in class. Most problematically, he's asked the Rally Girls do his homework."

Tami turned to the teenager. "Tim, do you remember us talkin' about these concerns before?"

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered.

"Speak up," his brother commanded.

"Yes, ma'am," the boy said more audibly.

"Do you remember what I said would happen if the cheating continued?"

Tim nodded. "I'd be suspended."

"That's right."

"And do you know what'll happen at home if you're suspended or if any of these behaviors continue?" Billy asked, his threat clear.

"Yes, I do," the boy murmured.

"Ok," Tami continued. "I have a behavior contract here for you. Let's go through it. Number one: Complete all schoolwork yourself. Number two: Be respectful to your teachers. Number three: Be on time to class. Number four: Be attentive during class. Do you understand your responsibilities, Tim?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now let's review the consequences, should there be a repeat of any of these behaviors. First, your brother will be contacted. Next, you would receive a paddling from Vice Principal Trucks, who is in charge of discipline, or you can chose a week of detention. Finally, you will be suspended. Are these consequences clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," the boy nodded.

"Very well. Sign here. And, Tim, I certainly hope that you have no further problems."

"I'll try to stay out of trouble."

"Please do. ...You'll need to take this contract to your teachers and get them to sign it as well. Then you'll need Billy's signature too."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Could we take it to his teachers now so I can chat with them for a minute?" Billy asked.

"Let me look at their schedules. With block scheduling, Tim only has four academic classes this term. Mrs. Halsey, his English teacher, is available now. As is his Spanish teacher. Algebra 2 and Chemistry will be available in 30 minutes. I'll send them all an email to let them know you intend to stop by."

"Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. I appreciate all your help," Billy said, standing and offering his hand.

"Glad to help," she smiled. "And you, young man, I want to hear good reports. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Tim nodded.

"Thanks for coming in and we'll talk soon."

Both boys said their goodbyes and walked down the hall to Tim's English class.

They met with Mrs. Halsey and Señora Diego and Mr. Trumbo. All the teachers praised Tim, but they also spoke of his tardiness and inattentiveness and not doing his homework. Billy listened and assured them that they would see a measurable difference in his brother starting the next day. The boy dutifully agreed and promised to do his best.

As they continued through the school, Tim stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong?" Billy asked.

"Uh, Mr. Strickland doesn't like me. He thinks I have a bad attitude and a smart mouth."

"Well," his brother snapped. "Do you?"

"…Uh, I guess so."

"Boy, you'll be lucky if I don't whoop your ass again before we leave this school. I'm so disgusted with you right now."

When they arrived at the Chemistry lab, Tim knocked and waited for a call to enter.

"Mr. Strickland," he said. "This is my brother, Billy."

"Yes, I know your brother. I taught him quite a few years ago," the white-haired teacher said with a smile. "Hello again, Billy. How have you been?"

"Fine, Mr. Strickland. Keeping busy. Thanks for asking."

"What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

"Uh, I have a behavior contract that I have to share with you. Then I'll need for you to sign it," Tim stated.

After the teen had read through both sections, he held a pen out to his teacher.

"Before I sign this document, can you tell me which behaviors you have displayed in my class?"

The boy felt a flutter of fear in his stomach. This old bastard was really going to torture him in front of Billy.

"…Um, yessir. …I've cheated on my homework or just not done it. I've had an attitude. I've been tardy a bunch and sometimes fallen asleep in your class."

"That's correct. I do expect to see better."

"Yessir, you will."

"And, if you don't, Mr. Strickland, please call me. I will come to the school. Sort it out," Billy declared.

Tim frowned, as his teacher smiled, took the paper and signed it with a flourish.

The boys walked slowly down the hall.

"I have weightlifting now and then practice after school. Will you be home tonight?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, I'll be there. Come straight home after practice."

"Why?" the teen asked, sounding concerned.

"One: because I said so. Two: you're still in trouble for your behavior at school. I haven't dealt with that yet."

The boy groaned, "Can't you let me off, Billy? I'm gonna do better. Please just believe me."

"Tell me this," his brother said. "Did Coach already talk to you about all this stuff? Did Mrs. Taylor? Did your teachers?"

Tim ducked his head and didn't answer.

"I said, 'Did they?' Answer me."

"Yeah, they've all talked to me."

"Did your behavior change?"

"No. Obviously not," the teen snapped.

"Wanna a hidin'?" Billy asked quietly.

"No. Sorry."

"Then watch your tone."

"Got it. I'll be home right after practice. ...It's just ...I was thinkin' about goin' to see Jason tonight. ...Can I?"

"Yes, you can. That's a good idea. But be home by 8 pm."

"Ok. See you tonight," Tim said, heading towards the weight room.

"See you. Talk to Smash. Make things right," his brother called.

"Will do. Bye."