Page 59 of The Game Plan

“Let’s not be a cliché, eh, pretty boy?”

Ryder snickers. “She’s got your number, sweet cheeks.”

Finn is a pretty boy. We all love to tease him about it. But he doesn’t seem to like it now. “Hey now, we were told our photographer’sname was Chester Copper. Excuse me if I assumed it was a man.”

Her lips pinch. “I go by Chess. I’ve no idea how your PR manager got my full name.”

“Probably because they do background checks to weed out the freaks.” Finn’s dubious expression clearly states that PR failedin this case.

Chess gives a bored roll of her eyes.

“Chester Copper... That’s kind of like Chester Copperpot fromThe Goonies,” Ryder adds helpfully. “Remember that movie?”

Our photographer utters a ripe curse.

“Yeah, that’s a cool flick,” says Rolondo to Ryder. “Little dude who played the lead grew up and played Samwise Gamgee. Man,talk about a sad sap. As if I’m gonna toss myself into the fires of Mount Doom cuz I got a boner for a hobbit.”

“He was on a quest to save Middle-Earth from Sauron, chucklehead,” I tell him.

“Naw, he wanted Frodo bad.”

Ryder makes a noise of annoyance. “Hello? Can we please get back toThe Gooniesand Chester Copperpot? You know, that old dude they find all shriveled and crushed by a boulder?”

Chess goes full-on red. “Yes, I know,” she grinds out. “My parents met at a draft house viewing of the movie. They expecteda boy, and since my grandmama had already embroidered all my baby blankets...” She shrugs as if to say,what can you do?

“And they actually named you after aGooniescharacter?” I ask, kind of horrified.

It’s worse than Gray’s mom naming him after a John Grisham character.

“Yes.” Her voice is tight, and none of us says a word, though I hear Rolondo murmur something about crazy white people underhis breath.

With that, she turns and walks briskly into the studio. After exchanging looks, we follow. Lights are set up around a largecanvas. To the side, a long table holds football equipment: pads, footballs, our team helmets, even some shin guards and tape.

A slim guy wearing a fedora and a lime green skinny-pants suit straight out of the 1960s appears. Like me, he has a beard,though his is red and scraggly.

“I’m James,” he tells us. “Chess’s assistant. Sorry about the delay. We were on the balcony having a smoke.” He grins, givingRyder a once-over that makes Ry shift his feet and frown in confusion. “Or I was. Chess was just keeping me company.”

Chess goes to a table and picks up a large camera. “They don’t need a play-by-play excuse, James.” She doesn’t glance our way as she adjusts her equipment. “Changing room is to the left. Strip down, and James will get you oiled up.”

She might as well have dropped a stink bomb in the center of the room. I swear we all take a step back, our faces twistingwith various levels of shock.

“Oiled up?” Finn sounds like he’s sucked a lemon through his teeth. “You fucking with us?”

“When I fuck with someone, he knows it, Mr. Mannus.”

Ryder laughs. “I love this chick.”

“I am not a chick, Mr. Ryder. I am a woman.”

Rolondo makes a faint, mock crowd-roar, and I elbow his side.

“Let me guess,” Finn drawls. “You’re obsessed with finally finding One-Eyed Willie.”

Ryder chokes on a smothered laugh, and I run my hand over my beard to hold in mine.

“Man,” Rolondo mutters. “You’ve gone and done it now.”

Chess has the stare of death. Like, scary fierce. I’m pretty sure her closet is full of the skeletons of other smart-mouthedball players who dared to cross her path. It’s so bad we all stand there like recalcitrant boys who’ve been hauled up beforethe principal.

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