Chapter Twenty-Three
Quinton watched as the other team snatched the ball before Octavius could catch it. The kid didn’t hesitate and immediately headed for his end zone. Quinton cursed and balled his hand into a fist. The rest of the coaches yelled for the players to stop him, but it was too late. The boy had reached the goal line and scored a touchdown. The buzzer sounded the end of the fourth quarter.
Groans of disappointment went through the home crowd and were echoed by the coaches and players on the sideline. They’d had a good run so far in the season, but that didn’t make losing any easier. Quinton walked down the sideline and patted each player on the shoulder.
“It’s okay. Go shake hands and then huddle up in the locker room.”
They nodded and formed a line. Quinton hoped the varsity team had a better showing the next night, but the team they’d played was good. They’d outmaneuvered them and played a little harder. He’d take what he’d learned today watching the JV team play and see what he could use for the game tomorrow.
“Coach Q, do you have a second?” a voice called from the stands.
Quinton turned to see the players on the field to where superintendent Watts and Jeremiah stood against the railing. Quinton walked over. “I’m going to congratulate the other team.”
Jeremiah nodded. “That’s fine, but when you’re done stop by the booth.”
Dr. Watts grinned down at Quinton from next to Jeremiah. “We want you to meet someone.”
“Who?”
Zachariah called his name before Jeremiah could answer. Quinton turned in that direction. He needed to join them to shake hands with the other coach. He turned back to them both. “Alright, let me finish this and talk to the team then I’ll head that way.”
Jeremiah gave him a thumbs-up. “Good. Thank you!”
Quinton went back to console his team. A loss was never easy. They had several more games to play. Sometimes, the other team just played better. Which was exactly what he said to them after they’d huddled up in the end zone for the post-game talk. Once he released the team to go back to the locker rooms to change, he turned to Zachariah.
“I need to go talk to Jeremiah and the superintendent. You make sure they’re good?”
Zachariah’s brows drew together. “I got you, but what does he want?”
“Wants me to meet someone.”
Zachariah laughed. “Still using you to get clout for the school.”
“I guess so. As long as he lets me do my job with no problems, then I’ll go shake the hands of his friends to make them feel special.”
Quinton made his way back to the stadium to meet the principal and superintendent. He spotted Halle talking to one of the teachers from the high school just inside the stadium. His steps faltered as a familiar warmth spread through his body. She’d told him to say when they could see each other again, but school, football season and his visiting family made that next to impossible. He was going to have to make the time. Not just so they could finish what they started, but because he wanted to spend more time just getting to know what made Halle tick.
“Here he is, our own celebrity coach.” Jeremiah’s voice came from Quinton’s left.
Quinton tore his gaze away from Halle laughing to focus on whichever relative, friend or church member Jeremiah wanted him to meet. His practiced smile he used when signing autographs froze on his face when he saw who stood between Jeremiah and Dr. Watts.
Dr. Watts beamed as he made the introductions. “Coach Q, this is the editor for TravelMagazine. Khris Simmons. Khris, this is our star football coach and your old friend, if I’m not mistaken.”
Khris grinned and held out a hand. “You’re not mistaken. Quinton, long time, no see.”
Quinton’s stomach twisted into a knot. He hadn’t laid eyes on Khris since high school graduation. He didn’t go back to his hometown because he never wanted to run into Khris or his family. Even though he’d known he would have to meet him eventually for the Best Small Town designation, and had prepared himself for the meeting, queasiness rolled through his stomach. The same queasiness he used to feel whenever Khris and his friends had waited outside the locker room to torment him.
But they weren’t in high school anymore. He wasn’t the poor kid with no one to back him up or believe it when he said the town’s prodigal son was making his life a living hell. He was a grown man who’d proven to himself and the rest of the world what he was capable of.
Khris’s smile didn’t fade as he pulled back his unshaken hand. “You look good. Guess all those years of getting beat up in the NFL didn’t do you too bad.”
“I was used to getting beat up,” Quinton said, not breaking eye contact.
Khris’s smile flickered. He leaned back on his heels. Like Quinton, Khris was older but he looked like he took care of himself. The tall, lean figure he’d had in high school was thicker but still defined; lines spanned out from his gray eyes, and creased his tan skin. He dressed in a light gray shirt and slacks, which appeared casual, but the logo stitched into the front said it was expensive.
“You’re not still holding a grudge about us playing around back then.” Khris spoke easily, with a hint of a chuckle as if they really had been playing around when his friends held Quinton down so Khris could stomp on his legs.
“Playing around?” Quinton said flatly and raised a brow.
“Yeah, you know how kids play around. It was all in good fun. Besides, you made it to the pros. I’m just sitting behind a desk working on a magazine.”
Quinton scoffed and shook his head. “Whatever, man.”
Jeremiah noticed the tension in the air and chimed in. “Quinton, even though we’ll get to spend more time with Khris when he visits the school later, he came into town early. Said he wanted to see you. Maybe we can go to A Couple of Beers and all catch up.”
“I’m busy,” Quinton said.
Khris’s slick smile returned. “Come on. Show me around town. I’d like to catch up.”
No way in hell. He’d agreed to show him the school and talk about football. Not pretend as if they were friends and share a beer together. “I need to get ready for school tomorrow.”
Khris watched him for a second before nodding slowly. “Maybe another day, then. I really want to catch up with you before I go out of town.”
“Maybe,” Quinton said noncommittally.
The sound of his parents’ voices came from behind as they noticed first Halle and then him. They walked over with Halle.
“Quinton, I’m so sorry about the loss, but I tell you what, Shania did a great job.” His mom’s voice rang with pride.
Grinning, his dad continued. “Yes, she did.”
They focused on who stood with Quinton. The smile on his mom’s face melted into a scowl when she noticed Khris in the group. “Khris, what are you doing here?”
“Mrs. Evans, I didn’t know you were in town.” Khris spoke as if he’d made a pleasant surprise. Maybe he was happy. He could try to torment Quinton’s family as well as him.
Dr. Watts answered. “Khris is here to judge Peachtree Cove for TravelMagazine’s Best Small Town feature. We’re all ready to show him the best of Peachtree Cove.”
His mom’s lips pressed together before she looked at Quinton. “It’s getting chilly out here and you know the weather is bad on my joints. You ready to go?”
There was nothing wrong with his mom’s joints, but he took the hint. “As soon as Shania comes out.”
“Shania?” Khris looked at Quinton with renewed interest. “That’s the girl playing on the team, right? I hear she’s your daughter?”
Quinton glared at Khris. “Shania stays out of your story.”
“It’s a great thing to feature. A young girl playing high school football.”
Halle stepped closer to Quinton. “I’m her mother and you’ll have to get my permission to put her picture in your magazine or say her name.”
Khris took in Halle’s stubborn expression and let out an easy chuckle. “Just a thought. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”
His dad coughed, “Bullshit.”
Khris frowned and Quinton knew it was time to end this conversation. “Shania should be coming out soon. Let’s head that way. Jeremiah, Dr. Watts, see you tomorrow.”
When they were out of earshot his mom asked, “Is he really here with some magazine?”
Quinton scanned the crowd for Shania. “He is. Don’t worry. I’m good.” He spotted Shania and pointed. “There she is.”
His parents were distracted as Shania ran over. Halle’s hand brushed his arm. “You okay?”
He relaxed. “I’m good. I promise.”
“Just let me know if I need to hit him upside the head or something,” she said with a teasing grin.
Damn, he wished he could kiss her. Instead, her brushed his hand over her arm and nodded. “I’ll let you know. Thank you.”
“I’ve got you,” she said before turning to console Shania, who was still down about the loss.
Quinton watched them and the corner of his mouth lifted. With Halle by his side, he was going to be okay.