Disclaimer: I'm sad to say that i do not own Remember the Titans, the characters, the directors, or anything associated to the movie. The wonderful world of Disney owns all that good stuff. I do own Isabelle Brooke, her family, and that Clive Henry thug...but that's about all. I unfortunately have NO relations to Ryan Hurst either...but Christmas really isn't that far away now that i think about it....YUMMY! :)

Chapter 2

"Emma's not coming?" Petey Jones asked his friend. He looked sad and disappointed, and Petey didn't like seeing his team captain so depressed. "Cheer up, Bertier. Just go out and bring another girl. Ain't no girl in Alexandria that'd turn you down."
Gerry Bertier shot the goofy Petey a withering glance. Petey shook his head; he knew he was right. Gerry Bertier: captain of the football team, an All-American, complete with All-American good looks. Short, soft light brown hair, bright brown eyes and a handsome face that most girls fall to the floor for. His every expression was swoon worthy, according to the female population back at the old high school: Hammond High. He was built like a football player—no doubt—with a towering figure, at least a head taller than most of the players, and a muscular frame that let a person know when Gerry was in the room. And despite his aggressiveness out on the field; he was the sweetest guy in the world. Who wouldn't want someone like Gerry?
"Hey, I wouldn't turn you down," Ronnie "Sunshine" Bass teased, clamping a hand on Petey's shoulder. He winked slyly at Gerry, who only returned his tease with another withering glance.
"Look, if you're still all hung up on Emma about that brush off, it's forgotten," Julius Campbell said consolingly to Gerry.
"No, it's not," Gerry said tightly. How could his own girlfriend be so cruel to someone she didn't even know? Judge him solely on his appearance? He felt a tug at his gut and instinctively, he swung his gaze to his left and stopped his singing friend, Blue Stanton, dead in his tracks. "You start singing to me, ain't nobody gonna be able to save your behind." Blue laughed good-naturedly and backed off.
"Hey, if that's what you want, Bertier. I was just wonderin' where Rev was."
"What are you boys crowding around the fireplace for?" They looked up to see their head coach; Herman Boone, smile at them. He saw Gerry with his elbow propped up on the mantel and his head on his hand. He knowingly nodded silently and started to leave. I know when to yell at them; when they fumble or miss a block. But I know never to badger a broken heart, he thought.
Gerry looked down at the mantel, lost in his thoughts about that morning's events. No one's date showed up; practically no one but the football team has come to accept the integration and embrace it. But, he was suddenly interrupted from his thoughts when Julius shook him.
"Will you look at that, Superman?" he murmured. "Rev came here. . . with a date!"
"Rub it in, why don't you?" Gerry muttered. He sighed and let his southern hospitality take over and so he stood up straight, prepared to greet Rev's date. He looked up from the floor and froze.
"Rev told me that there'd be other girls here. . ." she said, a small smile playing on her pink lips. They laughed when the girl said that she was introduced to Sheryl Yoast, the assistant coach's nine year old football-loving daughter. "I'm Isabelle Brooke." She shook hands with everyone and when she came upon Gerry she locked eyes with him.
"I'm Gerry Bertier," he said, his intense gaze still not leaving her. Julius, Rev, Sunshine, Petey, and Blue all shot each other looks of confusion and suspicion, as Gerry and Isabelle continued eye contact.
"SO," Sunshine said, clearing his throat. "You don't seem to have a Virginian accent, Miss Isabelle."
She reluctantly looked away from Gerry. "You're right; I don't. I just moved here from California."
His jaw dropped open. "Me too!" They started talking about their old homes, as Gerry continued to watch her. Julius leaned in towards Petey. "Will you check out Bertier? It's like Emma doesn't even exist."
"Oh, calm down, Julius," Petey said, "so he feels an attraction. It's not like he's gonna go sleep with her or anything."

Gerry waited. He watched as Blue, Rev, and Petey left to go join Alan Bosley in the middle of the room to sing and dance for their friends. Julius excused himself to use the washroom, as Sunshine and Isabelle continued talking about California. Gerry still leaned against the mantel, listening to them.
"Oh, I've tried surfing, sure," Isabelle laughed, "but, I'm not too great at it."
"It's awesome; getting thrown and shoved down by a force so strong that it's unbelievable; like no other experience." Sunshine paused and smiled at Gerry. "Well, with the exception of getting tackled by Bertier."
"I can see that," Isabelle joked, looking up, up at the team captain. Gerry smiled weakly at her. "So, Gerry, do you play offense or defense?"
"Defense," he answered, standing up straight and smiling down at her. "And what do you play; offense or defense?"
This Gerry Bertier's cute, she thought before answering with a wink, "Offense; I like scoring."
He looked amused at her answer as he chuckled lightly. "Well, I'd say that you're winning by at least fifty points."
Sunshine stared at Gerry; but this time it was for a different reason: shock. He slowly backed away until he was almost across the room from them, when Julius came up behind him. Sunshine pointed the two of them out by the fireplace.
"He's flirting with her," he exclaimed. "And he's really bad at it, too," he continued, thinking of Gerry's last line.
"Jealous?" Julius teased. "No, just playing. Look, Bertier's really tight with Emma and he loves her and wouldn't do anything to hurt her."
They both looked up to find their captain place his hand at Isabelle's back and lead her out the door by the fireplace. Sunshine looked at Julius with a look of uncertainty.
"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," Isabelle agreed, as Gerry led her to Yoast's backyard. "It is nicer out here to talk." She looked out onto the setting sun, amidst a vibrant sky of pinks, yellows, and oranges; a backdrop to the country-like Alexandria. It was balmy outside and the air was clean and refreshing. Gerry led her to a big oak tree and sat down at the trunk and looked up to see her following his suit.
"So, why'd you move here to Alexandria? Why Alexandria of all places?" he asked, looking at her intently. He watched her cast her eyes down and pick up a piece of grass. She twiddled it around her fingers, hesitating at first on what to say.
"My parents divorced," she started. "My mom used to live out here. She never really liked California, so she moved us out here."
"I'm sorry," he apologized. Great move, he chided himself. You really know how to get 'em, don't you? Bring up their most painful memories and make them sad—great job!
"It's all right," she assured. "I needed a change." He looked at her quizzically. Should I tell him? Isabelle thought. I hardly know him. Then, she looked into his eyes. Immediately, her heart skipped a beat. An unfamiliar feeling swept through her. She hardly knew Gerry, but it was like there was something between them. Fate? Isabelle thought. Love at first sight? She rolled her eyes to herself. Get a grip, Brooke. But, she looked back up at him and everything felt right. His warm brown eyes seemed to take away all the pain, hurt, and betrayal that has been suffocating her for the past few months.
"You don't have to tell me," he said gently. "It's all right."
"No. Well, right when my parents were waging a war, my friends just turned on me. Especially my best friend; stole my boyfriend right from under my nose. They started ignoring me and spreading rumors about me—I guess it had to do with some wild idea they got about me doing something or someone or bad mouthing one of them—I don't know. They never could handle confrontation like that." She sighed. "Yeah, I needed to leave—probably even more than my mom."
Gerry sat there; speechless. What was he supposed to say now? He cleared his throat. "Well, I'm glad you came here, then."
She smiled up at him and then suddenly apologized. "I've been talking all about me the whole time. What about you? I heard you're the football captain, you're an All-American. . ."
He shrugged. "Yeah. I like it. But, sometimes, being looked up at all the time isn't so nice. Having all that responsibility. But, I guess I can't say anything really tragic happened in my life except. . . well, except for my father's death."
Isabelle's hand rested on his arm and he felt tingles shoot up and down his body. He looked down into her face. "I'm sorry," she said softly.
They were silent after that. They sat next to each other for a little bit, enjoying each other's presence. Gerry's eyes wandered the land until his gaze fell on an old, beat up football. Before he could go retrieve it, Isabelle was on her feet jogging towards it. She picked it up and tossed it in the air for her to catch.
"So, you like football, huh?"
He smiled and stood up. "Sorta."
"Well, come on, captain; show me what you got." She grinned mischievously. "I've got a pretty good offense. I know moves you probably don't even know exist."
Gerry was shocked at first at what she said, then he laughed out loud. "You wanna play football? In a skirt?"
She looked down at her knee length corduroy skirt and slowly backed away from Gerry. "Sure. Why, does it bother you?"
He looked up at the sky as if in thought. Then, he looked at her with an impish grin and he started picking up the pace towards her. "Not really," he answered, before breaking out into a full run.
"Eeeee!" Isabelle started running in surprise when she saw the towering figure barreling at her. Whoa, he's fast, she thought, starting to feel herself slow down. But, the thought of a guy twice her size tackling her down made her run ahead a little faster
But, Gerry cut her short and was suddenly in front of her as he grabbed her waist and tackled her down. Instead of expecting to wince with pain, Isabelle found herself laughing on the ground with Gerry next to her, peering down at her and laughing.
"You're fast," he exclaimed, trying to catch his breath. "But not fast enough. I must say Miss Brooke, I'm very disappointed in your offense."
They locked eyes once more and she smiled a little. I wouldn't say so, she thought, because I think I might be scoring a touchdown soon. . . Gerry leaned in, his face nearing hers at a slow and steady pace. All thoughts of Emma had left his mind by now as he felt her rapid breath on his face; it was minty fresh. He started to close his eyes and his lips just barely brushed hers when
"Bertier!"
Gerry groaned and they both sat up to see who was yelling. It was Julius, standing with a flabbergasted Petey and Alan.
"What is it?" Gerry yelled impatiently, jumping up and helping Isabelle stand.
"Ray needs you to move your car; he's leaving now."
Isabelle looked down at her watch as she and Gerry headed inside. "Oh, I need to head home myself." She looked up at him and smiled mysteriously. "I'll see you around."

"Man, Gerry. . . I would've never thought," Alan said, shaking his head, as he and a few of their friends stood outside Gerry's car, Yoast's front lawn. Gerry's window was rolled down and he was starting to back out for his friend to leave.
"Yeah, going around Emma's back like that?" Sunshine added in disbelief.
Gerry ignored them and sighed with confusion as he pulled out onto the street. He loved Emma; he has for a long time. They have an incredible history together. But, what she did to Julius that morning still burned him. He thought of Emma and still felt a warm love for her. Then, he thought of Isabelle. The connection between them was unmistakable and undeniable. It was powerful and unfamiliar to him. She made him feel like everything was good and well, and around her, he felt different. Good different. She likes his friends, and they obviously like her.
"Look," Julius said to Gerry, as Ray drove off and Gerry pulled back in , "what you may feel for Isabelle. . . it could be love, but it could be just an attraction. You don't know that. Do you really want to give up everything you've worked for with Emma just to *see* what could happen with Isabelle?"

As Isabelle waited for Rev to drop her off back home, she and Sheryl had staked out a spot on the stairs where Isabelle was braiding her long, curly hair. Sheryl Yoast was going on and on about that afternoon's practice, wildly gesticulating and her tone picking up speed with excitement.
She's so adorable, Isabelle thought.
"Well, don't you look like a pretty lady?" her father smiled, approaching Sheryl and Isabelle.
She smiled. "Why can't you braid like this, Daddy?"
"Well, because I was too busy throwin' around footballs," he winked. He then looked up at Isabelle and they introduced themselves. "Welcome to Alexandria."
"Thank you," she said.
"What do you think o' my boys?" he asked lightly.
"Oh, they're friendly. Especially your captain." She paused and remembered her mother's behavior last night at he dinner table. "Mr. Yoast, I was wondering if you used to know a woman named Evelyn James?"
Coach Yoast squinted at her, as Sheryl suddenly ran off. "Yes, I do. We used to date. Always thought I'd marry her, but. . . we went our separate ways. Last I heard she moved out west. Why, do you know her?"
"Yes, she's my mother."