Renata snorted into her tea, and Dani rolled her eyes. “I just loved it so much the first time I thought I’d give it another go.”

I hummed, suspicious, and took another sip of my drink. “Why is everyone acting so cagey?” A horrible idea crossed my mind. I sat up, stomach sinking, and sat my drink on the small table between us. “This isn’t about a reality show, is it? Like some Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders thing except about the Troopers Cheer Squad and oh my god, you’re not asking me to consult, are you? I mean, I’ll do it, but I’ll need to talk to the board at work first and Coop and?—"

“Out of curiosity,” Dani interrupted, tone mild, “how much have you had to drink today?”

"And that is my cue to go check on the kids," Renata announced, getting to her feet. "Lucas, keep your ears open, huh? Remember?”

I waved off my sister, shooting Dani an anxious, worried glance. My stomach sloshed with nerves, every sip of tea and lemonade I'd had since nine a.m. making me regret them. "Do we need to use Coop's office? It's nearby and is pretty quiet."

She shook her head, smiling gently now. "Lucas, you were the cornerstone of the squad for years longer than most cheerleaders hang around. And since you… left… you’ve been one of the squad’s biggest supporters and most vocal advocates for their rights and the rules governing what they’re expected to do. Between your passion for the squad, your work with Queering Sports, and your teaching, I can honestly say you're one of the most dynamic and dedicated people I've ever met.”

"You sound like you're saying goodbye." I chuckled nervously. "Are you being fired?"

"Tell me something." She nudged me to walk with her as some of the partners stepped out onto the patio, and a spill of loud voices and a blasting pre-game show followed. We stepped off the patio and onto the narrow rock path leading past the pool and to a small flower bed around a massive oak tree. A year or so ago, I'd convinced Cooper to put a bench out there and a bird feeder. He'd called it my old man seat since I loved to go out and sip tea and watch the birds come and go every morning, but I'd caught him out there more than a few times, so he had no room to talk. Dani and I headed over there now, dodging a tumbling kid who declared themself to be Captain America, chased by my nephew demanding the shield back. "How’re your knees?”

“Huh?” I stopped. “Is this… what?”

“I’m gonna be retiring in a year or so,” she said quietly, glancing around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. “Not right now, but soon. And I’m starting to pull back, shift more of my duties to the assistants. Things are changing in our world, Lucas. Not for the Troopers squad but across all of pro cheer. We need people who can keep up, who want what’s best for the squads, not following the old playbooks. We need people who will kick off the dust from the boots, so to speak, open up the sport for more diverse members. Make it less ornamental, you know?”

I nodded slowly. “I… I don’t know. God. My head is spinning! Maybe I did have too many sangrias…”

"Listen. I'm not retiring tomorrow. I'm looking at next year. Maybe the one after if I have to hang around and make sure you're doing alright." She bumped my shoulder with hers, smiling softly. "I'm asking, very poorly, if you'd consider training to become a coach and applying for my position once I announce my retirement officially."

I tried to find words, but the best I could do was gawp like a fish for a minute before squeaking out, "Are you sure?”

Dani laughed loudly this time. "Come by my office on Tuesday, huh? We'll talk. See if we can find a way to fit this in with your work at Queering Sports."

I nodded slowly. "Everyone else knew before me," I blurted. "Why?"

"Element of surprise?" she suggested. When I made a face at that, she snorted softly and looped her arm through mine. "I wanted to get a feel for things. I'd heard you talking to Tori about how you felt your career was winding down, and it got me thinking. I talked to the other squad members and got in touch with some of the former ones?—"

"Marisol and Liz."

"And Tori, Julia, Hannah, Norah, Jess, Jess, and Jess..." She paused. "Well, you get the idea. They all said the same thing. That you'd be an amazing coach, and that management would be hurting themselves not to hire you."

"Huh." I stared across the lawn. So many people were milling around, laughing, shouting, holding on to one another, being there... And I wouldn't be part of it if not for the team.

If not for Cooper.

I nodded slowly. "I think... Yeah. Let's talk. I'll, um. I'll bring my five-year plan for the nonprofit, and we can see how things mesh in terms of training and?—"

"Slow down," she urged kindly. "One step at a time. Right now, I'm feeling like I need too much queso and beer, and you need to find your fella before the game starts. Otherwise, you're not seeing him for hours."

"Nah, he'll come find me at halftime," I smiled, standing to join her as she headed back across the yard.

Me. A Coach. Huh...

Tori and Marisol were on the porch when we got there, Marisol sipping sangria and Tori clutching a water bottle as if her life depended on it. Marisol shot me a thumbs up and raised her brows. I just nodded. They squealed again, and I could only laugh.

"Hey! Game's starting in five," someone—I think it was Rye—shouted from inside. "Let's go Dallas!"

"Blasphemy!" That was definitely Cooper.

Dani shook her head. "Queso, beer, and the back patio."

"At least until halftime," I agreed, unable to hide my smile.

The aftermath of the game was... a lot. Dallas squeaked ahead and won in the last quarter by a hair's breadth, beating Jacksonville in a dramatic win. The crowd in our media room shouted so loud I was pretty sure the neighbors would file a noise complaint.