Find a quiet spot, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🌙
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Nolan did not yet have a concrete plan.
He needed to understand Rice better first.
For now, he turned to Mia.
"You need to go to the library and borrow Paradise Lost, The Divine Comedy, and The Canterbury Tales. Also collect material on John Wayne Gacy and Jeffrey Dahmer. If you can, speak with a few priests. You need to build the image of the martyr in your head."
Then he looked at Katherine.
"What do you think of the story?"
"I surrender." Katherine lifted both hands.
Only now did she fully realize that Nolan could no longer be judged like a normal person.
Who could recite a story like that from nowhere?
Then again, if that became a movie, she would probably want to watch it.
Maybe that was talent.
"Whether it becomes a good screenplay is another question," Nolan said.
He had retold a film he knew by heart. Mia would have to turn that retelling into a screenplay. The story would pass through two filters before it reached a page. How much of the original power would remain was impossible to know.
They left the restaurant and picked up the car from a lot near school. Mia was currently driving an old Nissan Altima, practical enough to keep them moving.
When they returned to the motel, Katherine had no intention of letting Nolan go straight to bed.
"Starting today, I am your personal coach," she said. "Conditioning, quarterback fundamentals, keeping your body ready. All of it."
Katherine had changed into training clothes and treated the session with ruthless seriousness. Nolan found it harder than expected to focus whenever she stepped close to correct his stance.
Nolan had become used to an athlete’s life: hard daily movement, constant exertion, too much energy in his blood.
That made the extra training tonight difficult for reasons that had nothing to do with football.
They trained until midnight. Conditioning, footwork, throwing reps. Enough to keep Nolan’s touch sharp.
Strength training would have to wait for the school’s athlete weight room.
The night was not finished after practice.
When Nolan came back from the shower, Katherine brought him a late meal: chicken breast, beef, eggs, boiled sweet potatoes, spinach, cucumber, broccoli, and some grocery-store nuts. There was not much seasoning, but under Katherine’s careful hands, it was still edible.
"After you finish, we preview next semester’s AP work."
She had brought her old textbooks. The pages were packed with notes.
Katherine had completed most of her own exams and survived the busiest part of her year. Now she had time to tutor Nolan properly.
Nolan was happy to accept.
The only obstacle was that Katherine had changed into a white sleep dress.
The fan turned slowly from side to side, stirring her hair. The warm, stale air in the motel room felt heavier than it should have. A bead of sweat slid from her forehead.
"What?" Katherine asked when she noticed him drifting.
"Nothing."
Nolan reached out and wiped the sweat from her forehead.
"I can do it myself..."
"Hold still."
Katherine did.
For a moment, she watched his face under the desk lamp, half of it hidden in shadow. Her heartbeat suddenly picked up, and she turned her head away.
"This is inefficient," she muttered. "Tomorrow, I’ll come in twenty minutes later."
"You really don’t need to do that."
Nolan felt horribly awkward.
"Don’t boys need a little privacy after training?"
She was thinking of rumors she had heard from friends.
When Nolan stayed silent, Katherine’s embarrassment curdled into irritation.
"What, do you need me to spell it out? I’m giving you twenty minutes alone. That’s all."
Then, looking both angry and deeply uncomfortable, she added, "This is the first and last time I ever offer."
...
"Debes prestar atención en clase en lugar de sonreír como un idiota."
When Nolan returned to school on Monday, the Spanish teacher walked past his desk, muttering as she went.
Nolan was still thinking about the complicated expression Katherine had worn over the weekend.
He had explained afterward that most of what she had heard about boys was rumor. Once the misunderstanding cleared, Katherine’s face had turned so red it looked painful.
Teenage rumor had done what it always did: turned ignorance into certainty.
At the same time, Amy and Naomi, seated on either side of him, were both looking at Nolan with dazed smiles.
As one of his teammates had predicted, the story of Nolan’s stunning debut Friday night had spread across campus by Monday morning.
Some girls did not care about football at all, but a single player entering like a hero and turning a doomed game into a stunning comeback was a different kind of story.
Personal heroism worked.
It worked even better when the hero was handsome.
Nolan had already clarified the misunderstanding about Sarah Gellar with Amy and Naomi.
"Nolan, are you free tonight?" Amy asked as soon as class ended. "A bowling place just opened near school."
She wanted a date.
Nolan looked at Amy and shook his head.
Then he suggested they find a time later for one-on-one Spanish tutoring.
Amy broke into a bright smile.
She was clearly willing.
"Naomi should come too," Nolan added, turning to her. "More people make studying more efficient."
After parting from the two girls, Nolan went to his locker to switch books.
All along the hall, people greeted him first. Boys. Girls. People who had never spoken to him before.
There was no doubt now.
Nolan Callahan had become one of the most talked-about students in his grade.
When he opened his locker, more than a dozen carefully wrapped envelopes spilled out.
Pink paper. Green paper. Orange paper. One envelope even had a clear lipstick print.
The wording on the outside was basically the same:
Dear Nolan Callahan, there’s something I want to tell you.
The handwriting was delicate enough that he could guess the source.
Love letters.
He counted seven actual love letters by feel alone. Some had photographs tucked inside.
In his previous life, Nolan had never received this kind of treatment. He decided to take the envelopes home and read them one by one.
The only condition was that Katherine could not see them.
Just as he had hoped from the beginning, he had gained his first burst of name recognition, and it had happened much earlier than expected. He owed that to the game.
But how long would these letters and this attention last?
Maybe a long time.
Maybe only until the next game.
For now, the top priority was still becoming the starting quarterback. Even money could wait.
"Big star," a familiar voice said. "Fancy meeting you here again. Interested in a full Highlights profile? I want to hear exactly what was going through your head on the field."
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