Game On

Chapter 1-4

It was the last thing on his to-do list for this morning—and the one he dreaded the most.

Only because he'd had this conversation before with other students and, by God, he was getting pretty tired of it.

But he wasn't going to give up on any of them.

Ever.

"You're better than this." Hunter Stratham pushed the sheet across the desk. "I know you are." He pointed at the numbers dotting the page. "According to Professor Magee, you're barely hanging on in English Lit. She'll have to flunk you out if you don't get it in gear and do it fast. I know you can do better, so does she. That's why she's giving you another chance."

The sullen young black man rolled his shoulders and glanced out the window, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "I do my best. Not my fault."

"Crap." Hunter leaned forward. "You want to keep playing basketball? You want a chance to go pro, go to the NBA? Because with marks like this you're not going anywhere other than back home with your tail between your legs. Might as well start looking for a job delivering pizzas, because you're not going to be playing ball here."

Jessie Winslow scowled. "I've got the skills to go all the way. You know I do."

Hunter nodded. "I know you do. But you know I don't stand for my players keeping a low grade-point average." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "You think the scouts don't look at your marks? You think pulling a double double on the court is going to blank out a failing grade?"

"I'm not good at English."

"Then you get good." Hunter grabbed up a pen and scribbled a name on his notepad before tearing it off. "You call her. She's a good tutor, one of the best. Tell her I sent you over."

The college student stared at the paper. "I don't need a tutor."

"You don't need to be benched for the next two weeks."

"You—" Jessie stumbled over the words. "You can't do that. I've got to be out there."

"And you will be, if you show you're doing your best. Call the tutor and set up a schedule." Hunter paused. "You bring me your next test with no less than a B, and you keep playing. Otherwise be ready to start warming the bench."

The player stood up, shaking his head. "You run a hard deal."

"Only because I know you've got it in you to do better." Hunter held out his hand. "You know it too."

Jessie accepted the handshake before tucking the piece of paper away. "Thanks, Coach."

"Don't thank me. Just remember me when you get up on the stage to collect that big award." Hunter smiled at the young man. "Now get the hell out. I've got real work to do."

A few seconds after Winslow left, Sally Adams stuck her head in. "That's all your morning appointments done with." She grinned. "Sounded sort of intense."

Hunter rocked back in his chair. "Jessie graduated high school with excellent marks and knows he's got the smarts and the talent to go all the way. But he's too used to getting away with anything he wants because he can sink a shot from half-way across the court. A reality check was long overdue. So, what's next on the agenda?"

"Paperwork. Summer class schedules." She chuckled at seeing his downcast expression. "And a bit of gossip if you're up to it. Darned juicy stuff, if you ask me."

"Gossip?" Hunter shook his head. "You know I don't usually go in for that."

Sally leaned on the doorframe and inspected her nails. "If you're not interested—"

He motioned her on. "Okay. Lay it on me."

"Word is Angela Kenzie's back in town. Drove in last night from Philly."

Hunter tried to sound as casual as he could, fighting back the urge to jump to his feet. "Oh. Any idea why?"

"According to what Mary-Ann told Denise at the grocery store last night while picking up ingredients for her mac 'n' cheese, Angela got snookered by the fellow she was engaged to. Dropped her off the wall, and she came back home to get her head on straight. Mary-Ann always had suspicions about the man—he never came to visit, never called to introduce himself to Mary-Ann—it was always Angela making the connections. So, when Angela called and said he'd been stepping out on her, Mary-Ann felt justified in not feeling right about the jerk. But she's not going to say so, not when her only daughter is coming on home heartbroken and all." She eyed Hunter. "Figured you might be interested, considering the two of you were a couple and all."

And all.

Hunter took one of the pencils from his coffee cup and tapped it on the desk, keeping the same pace as his racing heart. "You know we were the talk of the town for the last year of high school. Smoked and drank, the usual vices. My dad laughed off all the gossip, said it was just a phase, getting it out of my system before settling down and growing up. Then I started seeing Angela, and everyone wondered what she saw in me. Good girl, top student, hanging out with the bad boy. It was a cliché, but we didn't know or care." He shook his head. "Never knew why she accepted that first date and kept on seeing me."

"She saw a good man finding his way. End result is you kept your grades up and turned out okay, and so did she." Sally retreated to the doorway. "Anyway, she's back home if you're interested in finding out what old flames do when they meet again." A sly wink, and the secretary stepped out of sight.

Ignite.

Combust.

Incinerate.

Hunter risked a glance at the clock.

Ten minutes to twelve.

He stood up and snagged the light jacket from the back of his chair. "Sally, I'm headed out for lunch. See you later."

He didn't wait for a response as he headed for his car.

Angela's back in town and she's got to be hurting.

I have to see her.