Chapter 2: The Line The coffee shop had closed an hour earlier, but the lights above the awning still buzzed against the rain. Benny sat across from Elena at a small metal table beneath the cover, close enough to hear Sammy babbling quietly in his stroller. Elena held a paper cup of coffee between both hands, though she had not taken a drink from it. “He asked me if I liked him,” she said again. “Not like he was playing a game. He asked me for real.” Benny looked out at the wet street. “What did you tell him?” “I told him I liked spending time with him.” “That’s not a lie.” Elena’s eyes came up fast. “But it ain’t the whole truth, either.” Benny did not answer right away. He had told himself this job was simple. The alumni paid the tuition. The girls made the recruits feel welcome. The recruits signed. Everybody got something they wanted. But Jalen Carter was not a signature on a letter of intent. He was a kid from a small Georgia town with a mother who prayed before games and an uncle who talked about the NFL like it was already promised to him. And Elena was not just a tool in somebody’s plan. She was a young mother sitting in the rain, trying to figure out how to keep her son fed without selling pieces of herself she could not get back. “Listen,” Benny said. “You don’t have to tell him you love him. You don’t have to promise him anything. You don’t have to lie.” “Then what am I supposed to do?” “Be honest about what you feel. If you like him, say you like him. If you’re scared, say you’re scared. But don’t let Whitlock’s people turn you into something you’re not.” Elena laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. “You think they care what I am?” Benny looked at her. “No,” he said. “They don’t.” Sammy dropped his toy on the ground. Elena reached down automatically, picked it up, and wiped it on her coat before handing it back to him. Benny watched her do it. For a second, he saw his own mother. Tired. Working double shifts. Doing whatever had to be done. “What does Jalen talk about?” Benny asked. Elena shrugged. “Football mostly. His mama. His little brother. He says everybody expects him to leave Georgia, but he doesn’t know if he wants to.” “Does he talk about Tennessee?” “Some. He likes the stadium. He likes the fans. But his uncle keeps telling him Georgia is safer. More running backs get to the league from there, he says.” Benny nodded slowly. “That’s not a crazy argument.” “I know,” Elena said. “That’s what scares me. I don’t want to trick him into something that’s wrong for him.” Benny leaned forward. “Then don’t.” Elena stared at him. “You don’t have to sell Tennessee,” Benny continued. “You just have to let him see what his life could look like here. If Knoxville really is right for him, he’ll feel it. If it ain’t, then he needs to go somewhere else.” “But if he doesn’t sign—” “Then they don’t pay your tuition,” Benny said. The words came out harder than he meant them to. Elena looked down at Sammy. Benny cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That ain’t fair to put on you.” “It’s the truth, though.” “Yeah,” Benny said. “It is.” For a while, neither of them spoke. The rain kept coming down, steady and cold, washing the neon light from the closed shop across the street into the puddles at their feet. Then Benny’s phone buzzed. MARA: Whitlock wants an update tonight. Benny looked at the screen. Then he typed: BENNY: Tell him Jalen is still deciding. A few seconds later, the reply came. MARA: He says deciding is not good enough. Benny put the phone face-down on the table. Elena saw his face change. “What is it?” “Nothing you need to worry about.” “That’s what people say right before it becomes something to worry about.” Benny almost smiled. “You’re smarter than they think you are.” “Everybody thinks that,” Elena said. “Then they find out I’m not.” Benny stood, pulled a few bills from his pocket, and left them beneath his empty cup. “Go home,” he told her. “Get Sammy inside. Stay off the phone tonight.” “What are you going to do?” Benny looked toward the dark end of the street, where a black SUV sat parked beneath a dead streetlight. “I’m going to have a conversation.” Elena grabbed his wrist. “Benny.” He stopped. “If they tell you to make me do something I don’t want to do,” she said, “you tell me. Don’t let them use me and pretend like I agreed to it.” Benny looked at her hand on his arm. Then he nodded. “I will.” He walked out into the rain. Behind him, Elena watched until he reached the SUV. The back window rolled down. Grant Whitlock was sitting inside, dry and comfortable, with Ray beside him. “Get in, Hayes,” Whitlock said. “We need to talk about Jalen.” Benny stood in the rain for a moment, looking at the men who had turned his garage, his past, and his desperation into a business. Then he opened the door.
