The Realest Ever - By Keith Thomas Walker Page 0,42

that, but how coldhearted would that be?

If Brianna was willing to accept his friendship with Kyra, maybe she could shed her jealous ways entirely. That’s all he ever wanted. It was now up to Donovan to make sure his and Kyra’s relationship remained as innocent as he described it. He had to put an end to the attraction he sometimes felt towards his best friend. And he had to be completely honest about all of their interactions from now on.

“Okay, baby. That’s great. That’s a big load off my shoulders.”

“I know it is. I’m sorry I put you through this.”

“Alright. I gotta go to bed now. Do you wanna have dinner tomorrow?”

“Yes. That would be nice.”

“I’ll give you a call after work. I’ll end practice early.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

“I love you.” And I never want to lose you!

“I love you, too,” Donovan said. “Talk to you later.”

CHAPTER NINE

MOTHER KNOWS BEST

A week and a half later the blistering heat of summer was still blazing a path through the Lone Star State. But there was a change in the air. The Dallas Cowboys were midway through their preseason games, which was a welcome precursor to Donovan’s favorite time of year: Football Season.

Within a month cool winds from the north would drop the average temperatures in Central Texas a full twenty degrees. The pecan and oak trees would liven up their wardrobe with dashes of yellow and orange, and every Friday night fans would flock to the high school football stadiums to cheer their team.

Donovan loved football as a child, he loved it as a player, and he was still in love with the sport as a coach, even though his Mad Stallions were off to a 0-3 start this year. Donovan knew winning wasn’t everything, but it did mean a lot to a lot of people. Thankfully he took the Stallions to the state championship three years ago, so the Western Hills boosters weren’t coming down too hard on the coach. They understood that great players will eventually graduate and move on to bigger and better things. Another great player is not promised with the new batch of incoming freshmen.

One person who did blame Western Hills’ coach for this season’s pitiful start was the coach’s very own mother, Ms. Beverly Mitchell. She sat behind a plate of rotisserie chicken, macaroni and cheese and broccoli and gave Donovan suggestions for how he could turn things around. Donovan listened politely because his mother probably knew more about football than he did. Beverly was a fan before his birth, and she never missed a game when her son played for Finley High. When Donovan returned to Overbrook Meadows and took a position at Western Hills, his mother started attending every game he coached. Neither rain nor icy roads could keep Beverly away.

The date was Sunday, September 20. Donovan took his mother to church and was pleased to dine with her afterwards at Golden Corral. Donovan didn’t think he would implement any of the changes she suggested for the team, but he admired his mom’s tenacity. He grinned at her over his meatloaf.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Beverly told him. “I know you’re not listening to me.”

“I am listening.”

“Well, are you going to start that funny-looking boy or not?”

The funny-looking boy was Patrick Miles. He was the best running back at the school, hands down. But Donovan kept him on the bench for most of their last game because Patrick thought it was fun to pick on people.

“Patrick knows what he has to do to get his starting spot back,” Donovan said.

“You said he was passing his classes and coming to practice,” Beverly recalled. “What does it matter if he picked on a few people?”

“Bullying is a big deal these days, Mama. Who knows where it could lead?”

“If it was that bad, they would’ve kicked him out of school by now,” Beverly noted.

“No, it’s not that bad,” Donovan agreed. “But last week Patrick was picking on my quarterback after practice. That first fumble last game was because they don’t get along. If Patrick doesn’t want to be a leader on and off the field, then he can ride that pine, ’til he grows up a little more.”

“And while he’s riding that pine, your record is getting worse and worse.”

Donovan laughed. “Mama, did you bet money on us or something?”

“No, of course not,” Beverly said. “I just don’t like to lose. You know that. I don’t like to be sitting up in them stands when those dumb parents