Out on the practice field, Joe was playing bad and he knew it. No matter what he did, his legs were still off. His stride sucked. His fingers couldn’t grip.

  The play started again. He took off running. The ball was high over head. It was too far out. He tried to increase his speed, then wham, his body took flight. Pain exploded in his side. He hit the ground hard. In practice there was a fine line between killing the receiver and teaching him to play more effectively. Who ever just hit him, wanted him dead. It took him a moment to catch his breath. When he opened his eyes, white clouds were drifting in the blue sky. His first thought was, One more hit like that and I will be face to face with Jesus. He looked to the side. Darryl stood over him. Darryl was the one who had just nearly knocked the life out of him.

  Coach Wilson screamed, “Joe, get up. Stop playing like you are wearing a damn skirt.”

  John Reeves offered Joe a hand up. Before he could take it, Coach Wilson shouted, “Don’t be holding hands on my field, you little pansy. What happened to your guts, your heart? Joe you better start playing like you can cause no body ‘s gonna offer you a math scholarship.”

  The comment stung. How dare Coach say something like that? Angry, Joe stood up. He could feel the heat of his blood rising as he strode over Coach Wilson. Coach’s eyes were hard. Joe shouted, “I am not a pansy and I am not stupid.”

  The light in Coach’s eyes changed. His voice dropped to a whisper, “No, you aren’t.” He grinned and said, “Use that anger, make it work for you. Now get back out there.”

  Even though he didn’t want to, Joe obeyed. What he wanted to do was to kick Coach Wilson’s ass. How dare he humiliate him like that? He had never done anything like that before. Joe had always been his favorite and Coach had always treated him like he was. Stupid Old Fart.

  Joe played angry. Angry at Coach, angry at Darryl, angry at everything and everyone that got in his way. In the midst of his anger he suddenly realized, his stride was back. He looked up, the ball was coming straight for him. He extended his hands. He had it, he knew it. The ball landed cleanly in his palms. His legs moved him forward. No one could catch him. The goal loomed ahead. He stretched out his stride. The beauty of the moment filled him. He forgot everything. This is what he was born to do. And in that instant he understood what Morrow meant about honoring her gift. What he was doing right now, honored the gift he was given. The gift of flight. He crossed the goal line.

  Coach Wilson shouted, “Good job, Joe!”

  *

  After practice Joe headed for Purple Bomb. He was surprised to find Danita standing beside it. Her face lit up when she saw him. “Hi Joe.”

  He went to where she stood. Her mouth was full and round, it turned into a smile. A smile that needed to be kissed. Softly she said, “Practice ended early, so I’m riding home with ya’ll.”

  Joe returned her smile. God if only he had his own car. He could drive her home. And if he did he was willing to bet he just might get a kiss.

  Danita looked up at him and asked, “Who are you taking to homecoming Joe?”

  He hadn’t even thought about homecoming. Before he could answer, she quickly said, “If, if you aren’t going with anyone, would you go with me?”

  WHAT?!! This was better than he had even hoped. “Sure.”

  Her smile increased to high wattage. How long had Danita liked him and why had he been too stupid to notice? He was guaranteed some lip now. He leaned closer to her. Her eyes held the most incredible shade of gold light. She wanted to be kissed, of that he was certain.

  From behind Darryl yelled, “What the hell?”

  Joe turned. Darryl glared at him. He asked his sister, “Danita what are you doing here?”

  “Asking Joe to go to homecoming with me and he said yes.”

  Shit.

  Darryl leveled his gaze at Joe. “HE said what?”

  Danita stood straight and tall. She shouted, “You heard me.”

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  The cold Darryl shot in Joe’s direction made him tremble. Darryl said, “I told you to leave Joe alone. This is not happening.”

  “It is happening big brother. What’s the matter you got a crush on Joe too?” Sudden embarrassment colored Danita’s features. “Uh, I—“

  Joe stood silent, unsure of what to do.

  Darryl got in his sister’s face and asked, “What do you mean too?”

  “Nothing.” She turned and ran back toward the school.

  Darryl said, “Let’s go.”

  “We can’t leave her.”

  “Yes we can, she can call Mama, I’m not giving that little skank a ride home.”

  “Don’t call her that. I’m going after her.”

  “Like hell you are.” Darryl lunged for him, but Joe was too quick. He sidestepped him and headed in the direction Danita had gone. Darryl shouted, “Asta la vista Moron.” Joe didn’t look back as he rounded the bleachers.

  At the far end he heard someone crying. In the shadow of one of the pillars he saw Danita. When she saw him, she started to take off. He shouted, “Wait.” She froze.

  Running toward her felt good, it felt right. She was upset, he could comfort her. Comforting usually involved holding someone and he very much wanted to hold her. When he reached her, she wouldn’t look at him.

  “Danita, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m stupid.”

  “No, you aren’t.”

  “I just blabbed I have a crush on you in the worst possible way.”

  Joe touched her arm. “If you hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t know now.”

  Through her wet lashes, Danita looked up at him. Instinctively he pulled her to him. Her arms slipped around him. God she felt good.

  A loud blast of Salsa music exploded behind them. Danita pulled away, just as Purple Bomb rounded the corner. The car roared to the fence. Through the open window Darryl shouted, “Get in. Mama will have my ass if I don’t bring you home.”

  “Yeah, she would. And you are taking Joe home too.”

  “Whatever.”

  Joe followed Danita to the car. He got in the back seat. It was pretty rank back there. The floorboard was littered with fermenting soda cans.

  Danita got in. “This car smells like a brewery.”

  “Do you want a ride home?”

  Joe saw Danita’s body stiffen. He prayed she would hold her tongue.

  The prayer worked. Danita didn’t say a word, she just nodded.

  Except for the Spanish music, no one spoke on the ride home. When Joe got out of the car, he wanted to tell Danita he would call her, but thought better of it. He didn’t want to provoke Darryl further.

  As soon as he shut the car door, Darryl floored it. Danita squealed, and then shouted, “Drive right or I’m telling.” The car roared down the street. Joe watched it go. This was going to be complicated.

  *

  The following morning, Joe did not expect to see Darryl. He was headed out to ride the bus when Purple Bomb pulled up. The music was off. When he climbed in, Darryl had the ugliest scowl on his face. He didn’t speak or even act like he noticed Joe’s presence in the car. His knuckles were gripped around the steering wheel and his jaw was locked. From time to time he would grunt. Joe could tell he was thinking, but he had no desire to find out what those thoughts were.

  Tension hummed inside of Joe. Was this the way it was going to be? He would rather ride the bus, than put up with this mess. When they pulled into the parking lot Darryl parked and got out. Joe got out and slammed his door. As he came around the car, Darryl seized him by his shirt collar. He got very close to his face.

  Joe sputtered, “What you gonna do, kiss me?”

  “You wish. No, I am here to tell you, Danita ain’t no Christy Thorton. You keep you hands off. She’s a good girl and she’s gonna stay that way.”

  “It’s just homecoming.”

  “Yeah, just homecoming. That better be all it is. You get too friendly and I promise you, you will be able to kiss your own ass.” Darryl let go of him and stomped toward the school.

  Truth was, if Darryl ever caught him he could kill him. Joe’s only defense would be to out run him and keep running.