Chapter 114: A Father’s Good Intentions

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At LAX, Nolan stood in a flight jacket, jeans, sneakers, and sunglasses, calling names like a man herding expensive trouble.

"Alberto."

"Here."

"Ford."

"Here."

"Mont."

"Here."

"Monster."

"Here."

"Cooper."

"Here."

"Rice."

Robin Rice raised one hand from behind two duffel bags. "Here."

The cheerleaders clustered nearby in travel clothes, warmups, and too much pre-vacation energy. Amy and Naomi whispered about swimsuits. Sarah Michelle Gellar pretended not to listen. Jennifer Love Hewitt stood beside Katherine with a carry-on and a careful smile, aware she was entering enemy territory wearing a BHHS uniform she had not earned the normal way.

Mia and Lisa watched the whole formation with the detached interest of women judging both logistics and market value.

"You look like you are about to hijack your own field trip," Charlize said.

"That would require a plan," Nolan said. "This is barely organized boarding."

United got them across the Pacific in under six hours. By the time they landed in Honolulu, the boys were louder, the cheerleaders were brighter, and Thomas looked as if he had aged three years over the ocean.

The group split at the airport.

Lisa, Susan, Mia, Charlize, Katherine, and Jennifer’s handler took the luggage toward the Royal Hawaiian. Nolan led the football team and cheer squad straight to St. Louis School for the scheduled practice and host dinner.

On the bus, the players staged a revolt in principle.

"No private workouts," Cooper said.

"No extra stairs," Flea added.

"No beach sprints," Monster said.

"No gym," Boar declared.

Thomas turned from the front seat. "For once, I support them. We came to play a game, not build a prison camp."

Nolan looked over the rows of teammates. They were pretending to complain, but he could see what had changed. Shoulders thicker. Necks stronger. Eyes more confident. Since the Arizona trip, the quiet work had not stopped. They just no longer advertised it.

"Fine," he said. "No extra workouts."

The bus erupted in applause.

Flea leaned over the aisle. "So, about Kate Moss."

"No."

"One detail."

"No equipment," Nolan said.

The bus went silent for half a beat.

Then it exploded.

"What does that mean?"

"It means use your imagination less," Nolan said.

"How did you even meet her?" Boar asked.

"Through a friend."

"The Oscar kid?" Rice said. "DiCaprio?"

"Lisa arranged it because Leo needed to understand a high-school athlete for his movie."

Rice blinked. "My mom arranged that?"

Several teammates immediately started talking louder, saving him from the question of why his own mother had sent Leo to Nolan instead of him.

At St. Louis, the bus stopped beside a campus that looked calm enough to make BHHS seem like a film set. A black-haired girl in a white school uniform waited near the entrance with a clipboard.

"Hollywood team?" she asked.

"BHHS," Nolan said. "Close enough."

She glanced at the players, then at him. "Which one is the tall strong guy who eats raw meat?"

Nolan pointed at Boar.

Boar pointed at himself, offended and pleased.

"No," the girl said. "The name starts with N."

"Ames could not come," Nolan said solemnly.

She frowned, realizing he was teasing too late.

"Name?" he asked.

"Margaret Quigley. Mililani High. I am helping the host committee today."

That explained the uniform on an all-boys campus and saved Nolan from asking a rude question.

"Margaret Quigley," he repeated.

His memory clicked.

Maggie Q.

Not yet. Not here. Not legally or morally available in any way that mattered. Just a teenage volunteer with a clipboard and the kind of face the future camera would love.

"Have we met?" she asked.

"No. You just have one of those faces people remember."

Her ears went pink. "That still sounds like a line."

"I am testing island hospitality."

"Dinner is provided after practice," she said, recovering her professional tone.

"Then island hospitality is excellent."

Practice was light by Nolan’s standards and brutal by everyone else’s. Sarah kept the cheer line functional while maintaining a cold peace with Jennifer. Jennifer, to her credit, learned fast and did not try to make the squad orbit around her.

The real surprise came before the game.

In the locker room, Thomas handed Robin Rice the first-quarter plan.

Rice stared at it. "Coach?"

"You start."

The room quieted.

Rice looked at Nolan.

Nolan nodded.

This was not charity. It had been agreed on with Thomas before they left Los Angeles. Robin needed live snaps that mattered. Lisa’s son had spent too long in the shadow of a quarterback who distorted the sport by existing.

"What if I put us behind?" Rice asked.

"Then I come in later," Nolan said. "You are not being asked to win the game alone."

"Why me?"

Nolan adjusted his gloves. "Because your father wants you to understand something before the season ends."

Rice’s jaw tightened at the word father.

Thomas did not soften it.

"A father’s good intentions are not always gentle," Nolan said. "Sometimes they look like handing you a ball before you feel ready."

Rice looked down at the play sheet.

Then he nodded.

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