As I walk into the Woody a few days later, I am met by Everett who crushes his lips into mine with such desire that it catches me off balance. I stumble back into the painted brick wall behind me.

He tastes like pumpkin spice again. I wonder if that's his favorite flavor. I move my lips against his, welcoming this surprise ambush. Anytime I get to kiss him is a pleasant experience. Although today his kissing is desperate, needy. He pulls on my coat, forcing me closer.

Our kiss ends when we both break for air. He wipes his nose as he takes a deep breath.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

He rests his hands on either side of my shoulders and stares at me for a second as if trying to sort out his own thoughts.

"I'm better now."

Oh great. That tells me absolutely nothing. What can it be this time? No doubt it is the university's fault. It seems like it often is.

"I just need to get out of here." He forces a smile. "It's nothing. I'll talk to you later?"

"Hey, Nora, your dad's looking for you!" Tad's voice rings out.

I turn my attention towards him and smile politely. As happy as I am to see him, I wish he didn't bother now. Everett is the most important thing I can focus on. "I'll be there in a minute." As I turn back to Everett, he is nowhere to be found.

Damnit. I couldn't help but feel like I failed somehow. I shouldn't have taken my eyes off him.

"I guess I'll see him now. Thanks for letting me know."

The halls around me seem to close in as I make my way to his office. The kiss swirls around my mind. It was different. He was looking for a distraction. Charles...

"Nora, I need you to be calm about the next sentence I am going to say," Dad says as I walk into his space.

But I already have an idea.

"You need to hear it from me before anyone else." He takes a deep breath in. "Charles is joining practice today."

The university already made up their minds. Charles is joining the team. This is just a way to get the players used to him. Before long he will be in all the games. That is why Everett wanted out. That's why he kissed me. He heard the news, ran into me, then left.

"We found out last night."

We were at home together last night. Dad could have told me there. Once again, I am left the fool, the one that is in the dark. I'm the last one to know. He doesn't see me as the damn intern. If he did, he would have told me sooner. If I think I can be anything more than his bumbling daughter, I am an idiot. I bite my lip hard enough that I only feel pain instead of anger.

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

"I was trying to find the right way to tell you."

My hands fly into the air. "And this is the perfect time?"

"Nora... I'm trying my best with the cards I was given." Dad sighs.

But that isn't good enough. He is the coach. He should be leading us. But it feel like he isn't leading anyone. The University is leading us to a burning dumpster fire. And Dad is going along with them.

I shut my mouth. There is so much I can say, but instead, I leave the office. Dad already knows what I think. I don't have to say it.

As my feet carry me to the practice field, all I think about is how wrong this is. Charles shouldn't be here. He is a villain and the school doesn't care.

________________________

Glaring at the players' practice won't solve anything. But that is what I do for the next hour. It feels like the only thing I can do. The deeper I furrow my eyebrows, the louder my unspoken words are. My disapproval is palpable. It is enough to keep people away. I don't want to talk to anyone anyhow.

"So all of you may know Charles, but he's going to be watching practice today," Dad says as he points to Charles who stands beside Dad as if he is some kind of equal.

A few team members hold back gasps, shocked. Others smile, happy with the news. I make a mental note of who smiled. They are not to be trusted. A few of them make eye contact with me before dropping their smiles. They know they are in the wrong.

"Now, no funny games or jokes, I expect everyone to be on their top behavior as if the president of the university was watching." Dad looks around the team then points to an assistant coach. "Ok, Andy's going to show you the drills."

Andy steps forward as Dad approaches me. "I'm watching him closely."

Watch him closely? I hold back a humorless laugh. That is rich. As if that is good enough.

"The school told me they put him through some kind of disciplinary action, and he has shaped up. They promise he's changed."

People like him don't change. They just get smarter. I shake my head. "And you believe them?"

He frowns as he strokes his mustache.

"Belief and hope are two very different things."

"Well if he steps out of line, I can take that to the school and they can kick him off the team again."

I eye him in silence. We both know that is a long shot. "The university is going to destroy this team." With that, I leave the field, unable to watch the practice any longer.

Everett doesn't text me even though I text him too many times to count.

As I walk back into Dad's office, I shove my phone into my pocket. There is no use staring at it any longer. I texted him and the most I can do is wait for his reply.

But I want to hold him, tell him it will be ok. No one should be alone in his state. There is so much I want to say, but most importantly I want to tell him we need to stop Charles. If Everett really wants to continue on the team, Charles needs to leave.

My fist hits Dad's office door with force. As if that will help my raging emotions. It doesn't. Instead, it only leaves pain shooting up my hand.

"This is shit," I mumble as I shake my hand.

"You owe your father a dollar," Shelly says as he walks over to me.

I glare. "This is not the time Shelly."

He takes a step back. "Damn, ok. What's up?"

"Charles," I spit out as if it is the worst swear word I can muster.

"He has that effect on people."

"Does he have that effect on you?"

"Sometimes. But I've learned to ignore him."

"Not everyone is that skilled."

"It's easier when he hasn't abused you."

I nod. "Does the whole team know about that?"

He shrugs. "Many do."

"I just can't believe people want to be friends with him after that."

"It's better to be on his side than against it." With that, he leaves.

_____________________________________

My mood continues to be sour by time we leave the Woody.

I kick a rock on the pavement, and it bounces off a car. The car alarm goes off. It's loud and screechy. As if this day cannot get any worse.

Dad eyes me but says nothing. He has been quiet. Not very much like himself. But neither am I. Already Charles has sucked the life out of us.

The horn echoes through the parking lot but it's not like I care. What I do care about is Everett, who I see sitting a bench a little bit away. A hoodie hangs around his muscular frame as he glares down the road.

I don't think he notices the car or me. So, when I sat beside him, he jumps slightly.

"Hey, what's up?" I ask casually.

He looks over at me and shrugs.

Yeah. I know the feeling. All of this sucks. It isn't right. It wasn't fair. I couldn't imagine what he was feeling.

Finally, Everett sighs. "I can't be on the team if he's there. I just can't do it."

I understand. But he has a contract. Just like all the other players, he is expected to perform, deliver. Be the star that the fans expect him to be.

"I want people to know what kind of person Charles is."

I nod. I want that too. It's hard when the University just hid all the damage he did under the rug. They shouldn't be allowed to do that. "What if we reach out to the Columbus dispatch about Charles and have an article published."

He raises his eyebrows. "I don't know..."

I don't want to push him because this isn't my story to tell, but I'm excited about the idea. If people knew about what Charles did then the fans would make the University do something. There would be an out cry and that is what we need. If the article is published, the school will have to pay attention.

He grabs my hand. "I need to think about it. Can we talk about it tomorrow? For now, I just want to be here, with you and not talk about anything related to football."

That used to be easy. But it is getting harder. Football bleeds into everything we do. It is a trap and I am a wild animal in its clenches. "And I can be here as long as you want me to."

He rests his head on my shoulder.

"The sunset's beautiful today."

He chuckles. "Yeah, it is."

____________________

"Nora, I need you to do something for me," Dad says as he walks into my bedroom that same night.

Even with my music blasting through my headphones, I can still hear a tone from him. I frown. There is a reason why I'm in my room. I don't want to see him. There isn't any use talking. He wouldn't help us. The article is our only way for the university to comply, and he cannot know. If he did, he would stop us.

"I think it would be best if Everett skips tomorrow. But he won't listen to me even if I try. I figured you could talk to him. You have him in the palm of your hand like a kid holding a lighting bug."

Gee. It sure would be easy for Charles to squirm in with the team if Everett isn't around to make a scene. Charles doesn't belong and I want to make sure he knows that. Charles is not welcome at OSU. He should have never come.

"Please, can you do this for your old man?"

Honestly I don't want to do anything for him. But I also don't want to make any waves just yet. I pick up my phone and text Everett quickly about skipping practice to hang out. Not only would Everett skip out on duties of practice, but I would be skipping class too. Dad seems to forget that. "You owe me."

Dad smiles as he stuffs his hands into his pockets. "Shelly told me he caught you swearing so technically we're even."

"Shelly's the swear police now?"

Dad shrugs then walks out of my room without another word.

As soon as Dad vanishes, my phone buzzes with a text from Everett. He says he has an idea about tomorrow and to be ready by 9AM. So much for the study group I want to attend at 10.

_________________

The next morning, I wait on the front porch with a sack lunch in my hands that Mom insists I bring and a jacket around my shoulders. I still have no idea what we are doing but Everett told me to dress for the weather.

The weather is chilly and it will be overcast all day. Fall is here. And the leaves tell me so.

He drives up into the driveway at 9AM on the dot. I only half expect that he would walk here. Thank goodness he doesn't.

With gray clouds overhead, I have a feeling rain will come soon. Being drenched on the street is not on my wish list.

"Hey," I say as I run to his car.

"Morning," he replies then kisses my cheek. "You look ready to hike in the woods."

I was under the impression that is what we are doing. There isn't much else to do in Ohio in the fall. Well, maybe go pick apples or do a corn maze. "You told me to dress for the weather. Is it not good enough?"

He shrug. "It'll be fine." With that, he backs out.

It's fine? What are we going to do? His normal sporty look is replaced with blue jeans and a flannel shirt. It makes me believe that we are doing something I have no experience doing. All my life I have lived in a city, I don't know anything about life outside of them. But Everett is from the edge of Newark. It isn't a large city by any means. A sinking pit in my stomach tells me I am about to learn something about the country.

"Was skipping your idea or was it your fathers?" Everett asks as we get onto the freeway.

I would have preferred him go to practice and fight with Everett then skip. I don't want Charles to think he belongs but for now it will have to do. Let the school think they have the upper hand... "Dad asked. Charles is going to be practicing with the team today, not just watching."

His hands grips the wheel of the car hard enough that his knuckles turn white. "OSU will always want more; nothing is good enough for them."

Everett turns the music up to some poppy classic rock song that I don't know. It rattles the car, drowning out the conversation and our thoughts.

Song after song plays without us saying a word. The scowl on Everett's face eventually softens, but his hands still grip the steering wheel with force. Finally, Everett turns the music down as he gets off the freeway. "We're helping with the harvest on my father's farm."

Fantastic. Sounds like a dream. More like a nightmare. He is about to see how clueless I can be. The city girl fumbling on the farm. He is going to be so impressed... "I don't know if I'll be much help."

"Oh trust me, you will. Dad needs all the help he can."

He is really thinking too highly of me. I cannot be any good on a farm. I don't know a thing about farms. "I'm not sure if he will want my help."

"You'll be surprised. You're coaches daughter, just being there will be the highlight of his day."

For the first time ever I am glad I am coaches daughter. Hopefully that will be enough of a distraction for everyone. I swallow my concern as concrete and street lights are replaced by dead and dry corn, ready to harvest.

"Do you help your dad every harvesting season?" I ask as we move deeper into the farming community.

Everett nods as he turns down another road which transitions into dirt. "Every year but last year I didn't help because of football. But this year, with the break, I thought why not."

He turns down another road. There is not a house in sight. I wonder if he liked growing up in such a desolate place. The only neighbors are cows. That couldn't have been that fun.

"I thought about what you said about publishing the article."

I'm on the edge of my seat.

"I want to do it."

A smile comes to my lips. That is the answer I have been waiting for. Once that article comes out, the University will have to do something. They won't have a choice.

"But please don't bring up the conversation about Charles and the Columbus Dispatch to my dad."

Dale is a football fanatic. I wouldn't dream of it. Everett could share when or if he will ever be ready. "I'll keep my lips sealed."

He smiles as a house comes into view. It's the only house on the road. He really did live in the middle of nowhere. Is this even Newark at this point? How could this one house belong to a town? Could it?

As Everett pulls into a drive way. A dog comes running up to the car. Dale stands up from the front porch chair. He is dressed almost the same way as Everett is. They almost look like twins. The only difference is that one is nearly 25 years older.

Everett parks the car and gets out. He gets on his knees and rubs the dog then waves to his dad. "I brought help."

He's too kind with that word. I am sure I'll be no help. I get out of the car and wave to him.

"Hey, it's Nora Orban!" Dale grins. He gets off his porch and moves to the red barn beside the house. "I hope you are ready to get your hands dirty."

Not really, but I am here. If I knew what we were going to do, I might have tried to convince Everett to do something else. "I work with 18–25-year-old football players. My hands are always dirty, what's a little more dirt?"

"Oh Everett, she's a funny one."

Everett nods as he locks the car even though there is nothing around us. It must be a habit, like mine is.

"So Nora, have you helped in harvest before?"

"I've never been on a farm before."

He slaps his leg as his grin only grows. I hope that is a good thing. My only prayer is that he won't laugh at my inability to manage myself on the farm. I have enough of people thinking I am a fool.

"My goodness you haven't lived until you helped in a harvest."

"Well, I guess I haven't lived yet."

"The key word is 'yet'. You'll live today," he says as he wraps his arm around my shoulders instantly making me feel at home.