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 7

Isabelle cast a panicked look at her mother, who was sitting beside her ex-husband, her shoulders tensed with distraught. Mr. Brooke stood up and hugged his daughter, who didn't return his embrace. She bitterly recalled how he was the one who walked out on them. How he was the one who chose his career over his family. She loved him still, but if he chose his profession over his family—over her—then he must not love her like she did. Why should he deserve her affection?
"What are you doing here, Dad?" she asked, her voice low. If her father took precious time out of his schedule to fly across the country to tell her something. . . this something was pretty big.
"Sit down, sweetie," Mrs. Brooke urged her. Her hands were balled into tight fists, her knuckles turning white and Isabelle thought, Okay, something bad's up.
"Dad, what are you doing here?" she repeated, staring him in the eye. Just spit it out, she thought. Just *say it*!
"Isabelle, how would you like to come back to live in California with me?" he asked. He smiled charmingly, trying to ease the tensioned air between father and daughter. He was a handsome man, and Isabelle could easily see that she inherited her dark hair and eyes from him. That was probably where their similarities ended; her father never did spend much quality time with her—there was always one meeting or another, or one business trip here or there. He reached across the table to take one of her hands in his and he patted her stiff fingers.
Shock gripped her heart, as her father's words sank in. "What?" she uttered, withdrawing her hand from her father.
"How would you like to come live with me in California again?"
He's smiling too wide, she noted to herself. Something's up. "Live with you?"
Isabelle saw the hesitation in his eyes. There, she observed with a smirk creeping onto her lips. But, the satisfaction wouldn't last long. "Isabelle, I've decided that I want full custody of you."
"What?! No!" she shouted, jumping from her chair. "You just can't waltz into our lives and just *tell* us that! No, I'm not moving back to California!"
He stood up, the hurt in his eyes clear and sharp. "Isabelle, don't you want to live with me?"
"No!" she snapped. "What's the point? You'd never be home anyway, and I what would I do? Hang out with my backstabbing friends?! No!"
"Isabelle, let me explain," he said calmly. "I can provide a better life for you. I can send you to a top notch school and college."
"No," she said firmly. "You deserted Mom and I. I'm not about to put her through that a second time."
He gestured to the kitchen wildly. "Are you honestly happy here, Isabelle?" he exclaimed. She looked around her simple kitchen, and thought of her simple home. It was quite a contrast to her old life and house in California that was blooming with luxuries, and expensive things decorating their walls and rooms. It was full of color and extravagance, and definitely larger than their plain house in Alexandria.
"Yes," she said quietly. "I am."

"I'm sorry, coach!" Gerry exclaimed, "I just have a lot on my mind!"
"Oh, do you?" Coach Boone said in that low, intimidating voice he was known for. "Well, it's obvious that the team ain't high up on your list. You're distracted at practice, your focus is everywhere but football. Your enthusiasm is down during team huddles, you don't encourage your teammates as much as you used to. It's as if your off in your own little world! Gerry, regionals are right around the corner! "
"Is this because of your decision to take Ray off the team?" Coach Yoast asked, his voice much more gentle than Boone's. Gerry looked up at the man's kind, familiar face. Ray. Yes, Ray was part of the problem. Gerry recalled walking to the locker room this afternoon after school for practice, when he passed. He overheard Ray talking about Isabelle and how they've dated.
"Ah, well, I don't know if she's my *girlfriend*," he had said modestly. "But, well, you know how these things are . . ." Then, when Gerry arrived onto the field, all padded up and ready for practice, he saw Ray and Isabelle talking and smiling in the parking lot, before she got into her car and left. The two of them had been on Gerry's mind ever since then.
"Gerry?"
The team captain snapped out of his daydream to see his coaches staring at him, both concerned and perturbed . Yoast leaned forward on his desk and clasped his hands together, as Boone stood behind him, his hands on his hips. "Gerry, if you have enough stress on you as it is, and you need to step down from your position as captain for a while—"
"No!" he exclaimed, jumping up. "Look, I'm sorry, all right? I'll clean up, I'll focus, okay?" He grabbed his helmet and headed for the locker rooms.
As he walked out of their office, Gerry grimly thought to himself, Unfortunately, the only way I'll be able to do that is to take drastic measures.

"Hello?"
"Gerry?"
He stood, rooted to his kitchen floor. Isabelle was on the phone. "Yeah?" he answered slowly.
"I. . .I need to talk to you. It's important." His heart twisted and his stomach turned. She sounded upset, but he knew he couldn't back down from his plan; he had to remain steadfast and focused. If Isabelle had problems and she was turning to him, that would only add to his mind activity—and that was the last thing he needed. It pained him to turn her away, but if he wanted to stay captain. . .
"Gerry, it's an emergency. Please, can we—"
"I-I'm sorry, Isabelle," he stammered, "I can't talk right now." He quickly hung up the phone. Only until regionals, he assured himself. Only gotta keep this charade up till regionals. Then everything would be back to normal.

"Hey, Bertier, you seen Isabelle? I need to borrow some notes from her."
"I dunno, I haven't spoken to her in two days," Gerry answered somberly at his locker. He stared mindlessly into the metal depths; so far his strategy had been working. He was able to concentrate more on the field—Boone and Yoast had even noticed and praised him for it; for committing to the team. But, he received quite the opposite reaction from his friends.
"I dunno, Bertier," Julius said doubtfully. "This don't seem like the right way to go about fixin' your problem."
"You think I like avoiding her?" He turned around to see Lewy, Rev, and Sunshine stand by him. "Do you?"
"No, man," Louie said, "it's just, on the field, you're back to normal: focused, aggressive, and stuff. But, off the field. . . you're always in a bad mood."
Gerry shrugged his big shoulders. He tried to shake away the guilty feeling he bore, but he just couldn't. Isabelle's emotional voice kept ringing in his head, and the guilt weighed down on him even more. "It's only until regionals." He looked up at his friends for their nods of agreement and support. They stared back at him.
"And then what?" Julius pressed. "What if we go onto state? You still gonna ignore her? You keep this up any longer and there ain't gonna be a friendship between you two no more."
Gerry's attention was averted when he saw Isabelle walk past them, towards her locker. His gaze seemed to catch everyone's attention and they all watched her stroll past them. Her usually loose, bouncy curls were hastily pulled back in a ponytail, her eyes looked a little puffy, her nose a little red, and her full, pink lips pursed together in a tight line. She looked paler than normal, seemed a little disoriented, and her posture was slightly slumped and sagged.
"She looks sick," Sunshine said. "I wonder what's the matter?"

"I'm fine," she protested to Sunshine and Rev. She looked up at them for reassurance, but they wouldn't back down.
When Isabelle walked into school that morning and caught sight of the small group gathered around Gerry, she groaned inwardly. She new she looked like a wreck that morning; her father hadn't left her alone since he arrived in Alexandria. His pestering and parental guilt trips were starting to take a toll on her appetite and sleep. The last thing she needed was for more people to jump on her with questions, and so she hurriedly walked by them trying not to attract attention to herself. But, that didn't seem to work. As soon as her fingers spun the dial on her lock, Sunshine and Rev were standing behind her.
"Isabelle, you look horrible. We can tell you've been crying," Rev said gently. "Come on, you can tell us anything, we're your friends."
"How can I be so sure?" she said bitterly, shutting her locker. "I thought Gerry was my friend but he turned his back just when—" she stopped herself, and pretended to busy herself by looking through her bag.
"When what?" Sunshine prompted. He put a comforting arm around her and said softly, "You'll feel better once you've gotten everything off your chest."
She pulled away and looked up at them. "Fine. I might be moving back to California."
"What?!"
She miserably relayed the conversation between her and her father, as she leaned against her locker for support. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them back. "And now he's going to take legal action because I won't go on my own. I don't know what his problem his; Mom and I are perfectly fine out here! And just when I really needed him—a friend to talk to—Gerry deserts me. Is he mad at me? I don't want him to be mad at me," she said forlornly, " I really need him now."

It was the day before the big game and the team was in the locker room after an exhaustingly draining practice. Gerry stuffed a few things in his bag when he heard Alan call his name. Gerry swung his smoldering gaze to his longtime friend and stared at him expectantly. Alan rubbed his hands on his legs and advanced towards Gerry, stealing looks at a few people who were watching, waiting to hear what he had to say to their captain.
"After school today, Isabelle and Ray were in the parking lot talking," Alan told Gerry. "You know how Isabelle is nowadays; she's really sad and stressed out and angry, right? Well, she just went off on Ray today. He said something to her about something and she just went all out; yelling and stuff and. . . she slapped him. She totally humiliated him."
"So, they broke up?" Blue guessed, buttoning up his shirt not far from Gerry and Alan.
Alan shrugged and looked at Gerry's curious expression, which was imploring him to continue. "Apparently they were never really dating in the first place. Turns out, Isabelle never thought of them as a couple—only wanted to be friends with him."
Gerry stared at Alan, hoping that all he was saying was true. Ray and Isabelle were never dating, he thought. He spotted Rev getting dressed not too far away and he wove his way through the crowded locker room to where his friend was sitting. There was something Gerry needed to know, but he never found the right time to ask.
"Rev, why's Isabelle so upset?"
His teammate looked up at Gerry from where he was sitting. "Because of you." He avoided Gerry's searching eyes and bent over to tie his shoe. He could feel is stare boring holes in his back, and shifted uneasily. He didn't feel right divulging what she had told him and Sunshine that morning; after all, it was personal information.
"She is? Please, you gotta tell me what's going on." He looked over when he saw Sunshine and Petey approach them, their gear slung over their shoulders. "Guys, what did Isabelle say? What's wrong?"
Sunshine looked at him, his face a mix of sadness and hesitation. "Gerry, Isabelle's father's in town. He told her he wanted full custody of her and from the looks of it, she might be moving back to California." He added, "She really needed you, Gerry, but you were too caught up with the team and regaining your focus. She's really hurtin' from her dad, but even more because of what you did to her."