Chapter 1 #3
Lucas got a fresh roller cover out of the shopping bag from the hardware store and loaded it on Liam’s roller.
“Any teenager is welcome, regardless of whether they can pay or not. There will always be a counselor on call if someone needs to talk. And even if they don’t want to talk, there will be someone here to shoot hoops, play arcade games, or make pottery with them.
Why do you ask? Are you thinking about becoming a mental health counselor? ”
“Yeah, right.” Liam scoffed. “NFL quarterback is more my speed. I don’t want to be trapped in Maple Lake forever. No offense.”
None taken? Lucas didn’t know if he should bristle or smirk. There were plenty of people who preferred the city or the suburbs, but he wouldn’t trade this town for anything. He’d made that choice once already—and it had cost him Rowan.
He cleared his throat. “What’s on your mind, son?”
“Faith.”
Lucas resumed his painting. “Like faith-as-small-as-a-mustard-seed faith, or Faith Ludington Faith?”
“Ludington. I told myself after Kylie and I broke up that I wouldn’t date anyone my senior year. I was gonna focus on football so I can get a scholarship to a Big Ten school, win the Heisman, and be the number-one draft pick.”
Lucas nodded. “Ambitious.”
He remembered the faded poster hanging in the tiny counseling office he’d worked out of until this past spring—Keep your feet on the ground and your eyes on the sky—beneath a blasting space shuttle. He’d bought it for seventy-five cents from Danny Garrison’s garage sale and never taken it down.
“From the way you two were looking at each other earlier,” he said, “I assume your feelings toward Faith are throwing a wrench in that plan?”
“Kinda.” The kid wasn’t fooling anyone.
“How long have you been dating?”
“Not long,” Liam said, cheeks reddening. “But I really like her.”
“As a coach, I should encourage you to focus on the game. As a counselor, I can say dating is normal and healthy if it doesn’t interfere with your goals.” Lucas shot him a pointed look. “It’ll take discipline—more discipline than you showed today—but you can do it.”
They moved together along the wall, rollers squeaking in tandem. The gym looked brighter already—less like a decrepit relic and more like a refuge. A space where teens wouldn’t be overlooked or forgotten, where they could feel safe. Seen. Something he wished he’d had at seventeen.
“What happens if it’s signing day and we’re still together?”
“Don’t borrow trouble from tomorrow,” Lucas said. “Take it one day at a time. I’ve gotta ask: What’s brought this on?”
“She wants to go to Nashville. Like her aunt.”
Lucas froze.
Faith’s hero worship made sense, but hearing it aloud felt like someone was pressing a thumb against a bruise he’d almost convinced himself had healed.
He placed a steady hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Stay focused. Stand on your principles. Go after what you want. If that’s to play football in college and keep the girl, go for it.”
“Did you go after what you wanted?” Liam asked quietly. “With football? And with Rowan Wilkes?”
“I didn’t get a choice,” Lucas said beneath his breath, immediately recognizing it for the lie it was.
Liam set his roller into the tray, guilt flickering across his face. “That’s not how Faith tells it. She says you chose not to go with Rowan to Nashville.”
Lucas inhaled sharply. The gym, the paint fumes, the echoing walls—they pressed in close. He swallowed and forced his voice steady. Just because two people loved each other, it didn’t mean their goals, their responsibilities, and their lives would magically align.
“Liam, all I can say is I’m doing what I love. I spend my days helping kids through their hardest times—on the field, in my office, and soon, in this building.” He gestured to the gym around them. “As long as I have that, I can’t regret anything.” The lie sat in his mouth like paint sludge.
Liam nodded, satisfied for now, and returned to the wall.
Lucas’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He waited until Liam turned away before checking it.
Grant
The Pritchard family had to withdraw their pledge. The whole donation. We need to strategize. Soon.
As he stared at the message, unease crawled up his spine.
Another crisis. Another fire to put out. Lord, it certainly seems like forces out there don’t want this center to succeed. He looked around the gym and saw more than half-painted walls, rusted rafters, and old bleachers barely hanging in there.
He saw a sanctuary, a second chance, a place for kids to belong. Now he was at risk of losing everything he’d worked for. Again.