Page 40 of A Game as Old as Time

Breathe, Hailey, or you will pass out!

“Gunner! Yes, of course!”

What is happening?

“I can’t promise I’ll be any good, but---but my dad always said life is made of moments.” He flashed another smile at Hailey. “Maybe this is one of those moments he was talking about.”

Ms. Summers began prancing around the room, the flyer momentarily forgotten in her hand.

“If you want, Hailey and I were about to go over parts. We would love to get your input.”

He looked down and back up, a grin still brightening his face.

Oh man, that smile.

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to start on Monday.” His eyes remained on Hailey; she felt completely unable to move. “I have a meeting with a coach and some more apologizing to do.”

Daddy.

Her legs felt weak, and she began to rub her fingers together nervously.

Stop it, Hailey. Get a hold of yourself.

“But Ms. Summers.” He was almost at the door now, his voice a little surer. “If you give me a few days, I may be able to help with some of those other male roles that you’re having trouble filling.”

What is going on?

She felt her stomach fluttering, like butterflies had been set loose and would not go back into the cage. As he waved and left, she struggled to piece together what had just happened. That was not the Gunner Weston that she thought she knew. The boy who had just left the room was kind and caring, just like all the stories about his father. He held so much pain and sorrow in his eyes, yet there was something about them that kept pulling her in.

This is not good.

She took a deep breath, memories of her mother flashing through her brain at an alarming rate. However, something began to overtake them, something she had not considered since she arrived in this town, and it helped ease some of her angst.

Gunner had just lost his father. Somehow, she had forgotten all about that, about his personal loss. She had been so angry about moving to this place, about leaving her friends and the life that she had, that she had forgotten why they had come. His father had died unexpectedly. They must have been close; Gunner was the quarterback, and his dad was the head coach.

Do not do it.

The butterflies were overwhelming the tightness in her chest.

STOP!

She jerked her head up. Her teacher was waiting patiently, as if she had expected this to happen.

“Ms. Summers.” Hailey took a step forward. The butterflies picked her up and gave her the last push she needed. “I would like to speak with you about playing the lead.”

**********

Gunner took a deep breath, his hand shaking on the handle.

Just walk in.

He could feel the flyers starting to bend against his sweaty palm.

Do it!

His mind screamed at him. He knocked and turned the brass doorknob.

Coach Bianchi spun in his chair. “Gunner?” The screen behind him was lit up with film from the most recent game.

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