Page 11 of The Way We Win

Exhaling a resigned breath, she shakes her head. “I do have to go to school, I guess.”

“I guess you do.” I hold back a chuckle, but she’s pretty cute doing her best to act as grown-up as the adults surrounding her.

She turns, slowly walking to the kitchen as the small orange cat claws its way onto her shoulder.

“Jack Bradford?” A deep male voice approaches from the door, and a man about my height with light brown hair and a clean-shaven face leads a boy even taller to where we’re standing.

The man’s dressed in khakis and a light blue golf shirt that stretches over his thick middle. I don’t recognize them, but I can see the boy is high school-aged.

The man gives me that smile I know well. It means he’s about to give me an order—but in a friendly way. I get that a lot in this job.

Only, I don’t take orders. I give them.

I square my stance, facing them. “That’s me.”

The man sticks out a hand. “Name’s George Powell, and this here’s my son Levi.”

Reaching out, I give him a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Powell. Levi.”

“Call me George.” He smiles, but again, it’s only conditionally friendly.

“George,” I say easily. “Something I can do for you?”

“More like what I can do for you.” He grins like a salesman. “We just moved here from Gainesville. That’s in Florida.”

“I’m familiar with it.”

“Levi was starting quarterback at his old high school, and when I heardtheJack Bradford was head coach at Newhope High, I said my son had to join the team.”

It’s a line I’ve heard before.

My eyes move to his son, and I meet his gaze head-on, trying to get a read on this young man. Levi is slightly taller than I am. He has well-defined muscles, which means he’s been training. His light brown hair is a bit too long and shaggy, but his brown eyes are serious, if a bit loose.

“What grade are you in, Levi?”

“I’m a senior, sir.”

“This isn’t the military. You can call me coach.”

“Yes, sir, Coach.”

My lips press, but I let it go. We’re in the south, where sayingma’amandsirare just part of the culture.

“How do you feel about playing football?”

“It’s the best thing in the world, Coach. It’s the only thing that matters to me.”

“Your grades will need to matter to you if you play for Newhope. You’ll be off the team if they fall below a 3.0 average.”

Levi nods, and I glance at his father, wondering what kind of parent moves a kid one state away from home at the start of senior year just for me.

I’m good, but there’s more to getting into college than a coach.

Maybe they came here so Levi could play a year with me, or maybe they came here for some other reason. Whatever it is, all of it will impact the way he behaves and performs on the field, which is my business.

“How do you feel about joining a new team as a senior?”

Meaning, the team has already been established, the boys all know each other, and the starting lineup is set as far as they know.

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