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“Julian isn’t better than me,” he sneered. “I came back on the field with a near broken nose, ready to play. They’ll start him the whole season. I know it.”
“It’s early,” Ali reminded him. “Definitely too early to make that judgment.”
Graham bounced anxiously in his chair. “Lots of that going on here. Didn’t you say this place didn’t judge?”
It usually doesn’t. We just haven’t had a situation like you before, she thought to herself, toying with one of the buttons of her sleeveless, polka dot blouse.
Ali hated even thinking about it—rape. She didn’t like thinking about it when she first learned about Graham, and she didn’t like thinking about it as she sat across from him, sharing her lunch. But her mind flashed back to the day she decided to Google him, to see what all the uproar really was about. And she got as far as the end of the headline—Houston HS QB Dodges Rape Charges—before she decided to never read anything else about it.
“I guess some people do judge a little. But I don’t.”
What Ali should have told Graham was that the system at Hopperville doesn’t judge. The same rules applied to everyone, the same help—her help—was available to whoever needed it, whenever they needed it. Because what she told him instead sparked a change on Graham’s face. His mouth slid into a grin, and his green eyes darkened to a moody, intrigued gray. The combination painted her bare arms with goosebumps, leaving Ali shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
* * *
“Didn’t Cornell get a promotion?” Bobbi asked, carefully picking pieces of popcorn from the palm of her hand.
“Yes, Mom.”
John shook his head. “He’s the offensive coordinator. This is basically his team now.”
“Shouldn’t he have a different uniform then?” Bobbi asked. “He looks like all the other coaches.”
“It’s not the army, dear. He’s a coach. And he looks dashing,” Celeste added, before nudging Ali with her shoulder. “He looks good in anything.”
Ali rolled her eyes at her grandmother’s comment but silently agreed. Cornell was always handsome, even in his signature uniform of joggers and sneakers. But Ali always loved seeing him on game days, when his crisp white polo was tucked neatly into his khaki shorts. She had been so excited for him to head to the stadium earlier that evening she made him pose for a picture as if it was his first day in school.
From the bleachers, Ali watched Cornell fidget with his hat beneath the headset, a tell of his nervousness. Julian had missed a third down conversion, and special teams was jogging onto the field, preparing to kick a field goal on fourth down.
“Your quarterback’s a little snap-happy tonight. Can’t find a rhythm,” John said.
“He’s young,” Ali told him. Julian ended up at Hopperville after barely receiving his high school diploma. To top it off, after Cornell recruited him, he became a father just before fall camp began.
But Julian showed up to every practice, every meeting, and every class with enthusiasm despite a lack of sleep. He was the exact kind of student Ali loved to have in her office—off course but determined.
Ali looked at the scoreboard and sighed when the game went to halftime. There was a lead, but it wasn’t by much.
“You know,” John began, “I had a nice time on the golf course with your other half last week.”
“Thanks for taking him. If he tries to drag me to a driving range one more time, we might break up,” she joked with a smile. “I’m glad he has you for that.”
“Well, you live and work together. It’s good for both of you to have your own things going on.” John dropped his head and whispered, “If your mother and I spent half the time together that you two do, maybe things would’ve ended a long time ago.”
“I don’t take him to yoga for that exact reason.”
“No, but he’s a good one.” John smiled. “Everything alright at home?”
“Yes,” she answered before asking curiously, “why?”
John shook his head. “Like I said, it’s a lot to just live together sometimes. You two have a bit more of a complicated situation than that.”
She shrugged. “We’re good at keeping work and home separate,” Ali said before adding, “sometimes.”
“I hear this year’s team has a little more drama going on compared to years past.”
Of course, Cornell told him. “It’s only dramatic if people make it dramatic. He’s a kid, just like the rest of them. He has stuff going on just like anyone else.”
“What I love about you, Ali,” John said, “is that you see the good in just about everyone. Even that stray cat that bit you when you were little. You would still put food out for it even though you needed rabies shots.”
