Chapter 18

Aunt Sarah wasn’t here for Dolce & Gabbana, not this time. She was looking for playoff tickets for herself and her friends.

“You know they only allot you so many, Aunt Sarah.”

“Oh, come on, we’re gonna have a nice, big cheering section for you,” she said. “I just know you’re gonna do great.”

Great, no, but very good indeed. And yet, it wasn’t enough to defeat the Quakers. The Temps went down 21-20 as Quinn’s Hail Mary pass just went wide. Still, no one blamed him except for Smalley and himself.

“Had we more seasoning, fewer injuries,” Smalley said at the postgame press conference, barely trying to contain his glee, “we might’ve pulled it out.”

Everyone understood that what he was really saying was that had Lance been in for Quinn, the Temps would’ve won, which wasn’t necessarily so.

“What about when the defense failed to contain the Quakers in the first half, Coach?” Brenna piped up. “What about the failure of the offense to capitalize on opportunities in the third quarter?”