On Saturday evening, at the dinner table, the Reverend read aloud from the town newspaper a review of Taylor's: "The Drunken Kickoff is no more, and good riddance!"

"I'll say," Tami's mother mumbled as she refilled the Reverend's empty glass with ice tea.

"Taylor's is the newest iteration in sports bars – "

"- What's an iteration?" Shelley asked.

"A somewhat poor word choice," the Reverend answered, and continued, "a family-friendly joint by day,"

"Family friendly?" Tami's mother asked. "How can a bar be family friendly?"

"Maybe they have children's menus," Shelly suggested. "And root beer pong."

"A family-friendly joint by day," the Reverend repeated, "and the best night-life in town after ten, when the over-21-only signs go up. With affordable drink prices and better than average pub food, state-of-the art pool tables - "

Tami laughed. "State-of-the-art pool tables?"

"That's what it says," the Reverend told her.

Shelley reached for the bread basket. "And I bet the dart boards are cutting edge."

The Reverend continued reading: "The owner, John Taylor, entrepreneur and father of the Tigers' newest starting quarterback Eric Taylor – "

"- The Tigers' totally hot starting quarterback," Shelley interrupted.

"Don't be shallow, sweetheart," her mother told her. "And that boy is much too old for you be thinking about. In fact, at fourteen, you shouldn't be thinking about any boys."

"…has taken great pains," the Reverend continued, "to attend to every detail of the establishment, from sparkling clean restrooms to a free ride home for patrons who have imbibed a bit too much."

"Oh lovely," said Tami's mother.

The Reverend folded the newspaper and set it on the corner of the table. "Well it is better than letting them drive home drunk, Linda."

"Or maybe it's just an excuse for letting them drink when he should be cutting them off. I wonder how many nips John Taylor steals throughout the day."

"As a matter of fact, the owner doesn't drink any alcohol at all," the Reverend said. "The bartender told me as much when I popped in for a beer this afternoon."

"When you did what?" Tami's mother exclaimed.

"A man is entitled to his occasional pint, dearest."

Mrs. Hayes shook her head. "I hope none of your parishioners saw you in there."

The Reverend casually buttered a roll. "At least two of them did. I know, because they each bought me a second and third pint."

"Oh, Good Lord, Edward. No wonder you were in such a good mood when you walked in the door. I hope you made use of the free ride."

"I did." He looked at Shelley and winked, "Chauffeured by the totally hot quarterback himself."

Shelley's eyes widened with envy.

Mrs. Hayes shook her head. "He does not have that poor boy taxing around drunk patrons, does he?"

"Not at night," the Reverend replied. "Eric only works there on Saturday from one to seven."

"Poor boy," Mrs. Hayes repeated, leveling her eyes scoldingly at the Reverend. "Saturday afternoon drunks are the worst."

"Why would Mr. Taylor run a bar if he doesn't drink?" Shelley asked.

"To make money," the Reverend told her.

Shelley began to dish herself another serving of chicken and dumplings. "He's probably an alcoholic."

"Shelley!" her father scolded.

"I mean a recovering alcoholic. Those are the only people who don't drink, besides religious nuts."

The Reverend put down the butter knife. "I assure you that's not true. Your mother is not a recovering alcoholic, and she doesn't drink."

Shelley opened her mouth, and Tami could predict what she was about to say - that their mother, though not an alcoholic, was a religious nut. So before those words could spill carelessly out of her little sister's mouth, Tami interjected, "Who wants sweet potato pie?"

[*]

The next week at school, while Tami was concentrating on her make-up in the girls' bathroom, the cheerleaders were, as usual, chattering.

"I can't believe Eric left the homecoming dance so early," Marie said as she powdered her nose and peered in the mirror.

"I know," Cindy said. "How lame. How can the quarterback not stay at the homecoming dance?"

"He's an enigma," Sue Beth said.

"A what?" Cindy asked.

"It's an S.A.T. word," Sue Beth told her. "Aren't you studying for yours?"

"I think he's gay," Anita announced.

"As if!" Marie exclaimed. "Ray said Eric totally had a steady girlfriend in Houston."

"Queer as a football bat," Anita insisted.

"It doesn't make a guy gay just because he turns you down," Sue Beth told her.

Anita leaned back against one of the sinks. "He came to the dance with Father Jack."

"Father Jack is not gay," Sue Beth told her. "He's just…sweet. And religious. And a gentleman."

"And not ever going out with you or any other non-Catholic girl," Anita said. "So quit dreaming."

"At least I don't call him gay just because he won't go out with me."

"I'm telling you," Anita replied, "Eric is always looking at the other guys during practice. Watching them. He's totally gay."

Tami felt the need to defend Eric. "He wants to be a coach one day. He's probably just paying close attention so he can learn."

"How do you know he wants to be a coach?" Anita asked.

"He told me. We talked quite a bit."

Anita's brownish-green eyes sparked with jealousy.

"I didn't know he ever talked," Marie said.

"Oh…well I guess Tami must be special." Anita zipped up her backpack with one long woosh. "If Eric Taylor is talking to her."

"Cut it out," Sue Beth told her. "Tami has a guy. She's not trying to move in on your tenuous claim on Eric."

"Tenuous?" Anita asked. "Is that another S.A.T. word?"

"Maybe," Sue Beth said.

Anita shot Tami a look, almost, of challenge. "I wonder if Mo knows you've been talking to Eric behind his back."

"I had a conversation with him," Tami said. "It's not as if I offered him the best blow job of his life."

Tami had to admit, the chorus of giggles from the other three cheerleaders made her feel just a little smug. But then Anita said something that drained all the color from Tami's face:

"You haven't even given Mo the best blow job of his life."

[*]

"Has Anita Nisbeth ever come on to you?" Tami asked Mo as he drove her home from their Thursday dinner date at the Tasty 44 Diner.

"No. Why would she? She knows I'm going with you."

"What do you think of her?"

"I don't know. She's okay I guess." Mo took her hand on the bucket seat and held it.

"She's kind of a slut, though, isn't she?" Tami asked.

He shot her a scolding look. "Really, Tami? Calling some girl a slut? That's not like you."

"Well, but, she kind of is. I mean…half the team, Mo."

"That's a complete exaggeration."

"She offered Eric Taylor the best blow job of his life."

"Is that what he said?" Mo asked. "He's full of himself. He just thinks every girl wants him. He probably thinks you want him."

"No, Anita said that." When Mo just rolled his eyes, she asked, "Why do you linger after practice so long?" The cheerleaders often practiced in the gym around the same time. "Does Anita flirt with you after?"

He let go of her hand and put his back on the wheel. "What is this? The Spanish Inquisition? When did you become so jealous? You're friendly to everyone, and do I accuse you of flirting?"

"No," she admitted.

"Hey," he said softly, and reached over, put an arm around her, and pulled her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he kissed the top of it. "You're my number one, you know."

"I'm sorry," Tami said, and closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his arm around her.

What had she been thinking? She couldn't let Anita Nisbeth get to her. Anita was just messing with her mind because she was jealous that Eric had talked to her.

There was no chance Mo would ever cheat, and with a girl like that! Mo went to church every Sunday. He checked in on his grandparents. He got good grades. He had dated Tami for months before he even asked for sex. He was a good guy.

He was her guy.