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For the two classes after lunch, Nolan endured a steady war inside his stomach and made four trips to the restroom.
That damn expired milk.
By the time he returned to class, the school day was over, which meant football practice.
When Nolan reached the field, several teammates who knew him could not help laughing.
"Busy night?" Monte said with a broad grin.
"Mountain" looked far too amused.
"No way you’re practicing this afternoon," Flea said, shaking his head.
"What did Coach tell us?" Adam said, folding his arms as he leaned against the goalpost. "Discipline. He’s going to blow up when he sees you."
The three of them looked at Nolan’s pale face and naturally assumed the wrong cause. None of them imagined expired milk had ruined him.
"Tell Coach I’m sick," Nolan said, one hand on his stomach as another wave rolled through him.
When he came back, practice had already started. In his current state, he could not play. He could only watch from the side, just as he had on his first day.
The Italian kid who had joined with him took his spot.
It did not take Coach Thomas long to see that Nolan was genuinely sick, not hungover or exhausted from a late night. Since Nolan was in no shape to practice, and still had plenty of playbook to study, Thomas sent him home.
"Go home early and recover," Thomas said with unusual kindness. "And while you’re at it, take the extra pads back to the locker room."
Nolan carried several sets of pads inside and found the locker room busier than usual.
A few staffers were mixing bulk Gatorade powder in large sideline coolers. With a roster this size, even several coolers would only last a few days.
There were plenty of small costs like that. Laundry for uniforms. Pads. Supplies. None of it looked huge by itself, but it all belonged to the team’s operating budget. The larger revenue came from tickets, booster donations, scoreboard sponsors, merchandise, and summer camps.
After thinking it through, Nolan found a short-term idea that could actually work.
It could make money.
It would not require much investment.
"Hey, man," one of the workers said. He looked new. "Do you know where the cheer squad practices?"
The drinks were not only for football. Other teams got them too, and cheer was included.
Cheer was easy to underestimate, but the squad mattered to game-day atmosphere and to the school’s image.
Cheerleading was also a sport in its own right, with regional and national stunt-and-skills competitions.
On campus, the cheer squad’s visibility was often second only to football.
"Forget directions," Nolan said generously. "I’ve got time. I’ll take you."
The cheer squad practiced indoors, not far from the volleyball court.
Nolan and two staffers rode a utility cart loaded with drink coolers over to the indoor gym.
"One, two, three, four. Two, two, three, four. Three, two, three, four. Keep those smiles up."
Before Nolan entered, he heard the beat and the unmistakable voice.
Michael Jackson’s "Black or White."
Its bright beat made it an obvious choice for a cheer routine.
Inside, the cheer coach clapped out the count. In front of her, a group of girls in uniform moved with pom-poms in hand, dancing with bright smiles and a sharp, practiced energy that made the room feel younger.
BHHS cheer uniforms used the same colors as the football team: black, white, and orange.
The black, white, and orange uniforms were designed to stand out, and the older cheerleaders wore them with practiced confidence. Several had expensive bracelets at their wrists.
It was easy to see where money lived on campus.
No wonder the squad had a reputation.
"Who are you?" the cheer coach asked, turning toward the unexpected visitors.
"Drink delivery," Nolan said, pointing behind him.
"And you?"
The coach had a narrow face and precise makeup. A double-C diamond pendant hung at her chest, which suggested money of her own.
Her brow tightened. She hated having practice interrupted.
Then she noticed Nolan’s build and his face.
"I’m just the guide," he said, as innocent as he could manage. "That’s all."
With practice interrupted, the older cheerleaders took a short break.
Their attention shifted to Nolan.
"He’s cute."
"Good body too."
"He’s looking over here."
Several girls laughed softly. Sarah Michelle Gellar was not among them. She was filming a small role in a movie and would be away from school for a few days.
The cheerleaders would perform at next Friday night’s game, and Nolan was curious what kind of routine they were preparing.
He was about to leave when the coach stopped him.
"You’re a BHHS student?"
"Yes."
"What grade?"
"Tenth."
She looked him over again.
"Any interest in joining cheer?"
Boys could join cheer squads. In stunt competitions, teams needed male bases for lifts and strength-based moves.
Beyond his build, the coach liked Nolan’s appearance. A good-looking boy helped a routine stand out.
Nolan glanced at the group nearby. Rich girls, bright smiles, athletic bodies, polished hair. It was a very tempting corner of campus.
Athletes often played more than one sport in high school. Baseball and football. Football and basketball. Some even tried three.
Football and cheer would fit his schedule.
The problem was...
"Is there an athletic aid package?"
The coach shook her head.
"Of course not."
"Then I’ll have to think about it."
He did not answer directly. In truth, he had already decided against it. He did not need to join the squad to meet cheerleaders, and he had no reason to become free labor.
"How long do you need to think?"
The coach did not sound ready to give up.
Nolan did not give her the chance to press. He used the drink delivery as an excuse and slipped away.
After leaving the cheer room, he stopped by the girls’ volleyball court.
The moment he entered, he saw Katherine leap high, shout, and swing one arm down hard. The ball rocketed across the net like a cannonball. The other team barely reacted before it hit the floor and bounced away.
Nolan watched with quiet alarm.
If that spike hit an ordinary man, he might not stay standing.
Then he recognized the tall girl he had seen before.
Rundgren.
She was on the volleyball team too. With her height, it made sense.
Before Katherine noticed him, Nolan left quietly. He did not want to disturb her.
His first week on the football team passed like that.
Early Saturday morning, Katherine woke him while he was still half-asleep. She had even put on makeup.
"Get up," she said, pushing his shoulder. "We’re going to Century City to buy your cleats."
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