It was Layla's turn to fight. To remind every person in that audience that the school was about so much more than textbooks and sports.
Morgan blew her whistle, and on cue the whole band fell to one knee, removing their hats as a show of deference to Layla where she waited at the edge of the field for her turn to speak to the crowd.
Tears sprung to her eyes as she looked at them. She hadn't planned that. They hadn't rehearsed it...at least not with her. If she could pull all 76 of them into a giant bear hug right then and there, she would have done it. She couldn't let them down.
"And now a brief word from Maybe High School's Band Director, our very own Layla Maciejczyk."
Layla strode onto the field as the announcement came over the loud speakers. Morgan ran off and returned a moment later with a microphone. Layla gripped it with both hands, wishing she could have just used her megaphone instead. She was more comfortable getting her point across through one of those.
"Thank you all so much for coming to our last game of the year." Her gaze drifted over the crowd as she tried to look at everyone except the man sitting right in the middle of the third row next to Fred.
Rose smiled and waved at Layla as her eyes skirted dangerously close to the person she was trying to pretend didn't exist.
"Let me start by saying how lucky I am to have the privilege of working with such a fantastic group of young people." Layla smiled at her kids. "Each and every one of them is kind, dedicated, and passionate about what they do. You all should be very proud of them, because I certainly am. Your Marching Boomers, everybody."
Layla held a hand out to the band, and the crowd cheered again. As she waited for the applause to die down, her eyes finally betrayed her and landed on Derek.
He stared right at her, his expression bright with something that looked like pride of his own, which made zero sense after the way he'd exploded at her last time they saw each other. He leaned in to listen to something Ed was saying, then nodded, his eyes once more finding her.
She started to say what she'd planned on saying next about how the future of the music program was in jeopardy, but the words stalled on her tongue because suddenly Brody was running toward her. Clapping. The fakest smile she'd ever seen plastered to his face.
He stopped in front of her and held out his hand for the microphone as if he actually expected her to give it to him.
She covered it with her hand and whispered, "What do you think you're doing?"
His back was to the crowd, so Layla was the only one who could see how the fake smile turned real. "Oh...I thought you were done. I'll be quick."
He plucked the microphone from her fingers, and rather than tackle him to the ground and pry it away, she let him have it. It wouldn't look good to show the departments at odds with each other in front of the whole town, and then turn around and ask them for support.
"Aren't they great, folks?" Brody patted Layla on the back. His hand settling on her shoulder, the weight of it making her cringe. "And how about our boys? Aren't they great. Matthew Conley's headed pro, you wait and see."
The crowd cheered again. Everyone except Derek, who leaned forward on his seat, caught somewhere between sitting and standing.
His brows cut an angry slash across his forehead, and his eyes were lasered in on Brody. Layla couldn't understand why he'd care--they hadn't exactly left things in a caring place--but the fact that someone out there in the sea of smiling faces was angry right along with her was the only thing holding her together right now.
Beside Derek, Adam sat with his arms folded across his chest, his dark eyes taking in the scene before him. Rose clapped politely, but her gaze darted between Layla, Brody, and her brother. Layla could practically see the cogs turning as she tried to figure out what was going on.
Layla would have to clue her in later if she got the chance, because she knew exactly what was going on. Brody was hijacking her speech, and she was sure it wasn't just to say how great Matty Conley was.
It was revenge.
For fifteen years, everything with him had been about revenge. She was beginning to think the only way to dig herself out from under the mound of guilt he shoveled on her every chance he got was to pack up her things and start over somewhere else. She could barely see her way forward anymore.
Maybe she needed a thumbtack of her own.
Maybe if the smoke from that night could clear for good she'd be able to breathe again, but Brody had been stoking the fire from for all this time because he wanted her to choke forever.
"As you all know," Brody said, "Matthew's uncle used to play football on this very field, and now he's a Senator. He's here tonight, folks...and we've asked him to join us up here to give our boys a few words of encouragement as they get ready to bring home a state championship. How much time have we got, Ms. M.?" Brody glanced at her.
"Do not call me Ms. M. That's for people I like." She said low enough that only he could hear.
Brody smiled some more and turned to Morgan, who was waving from the edge of the field. She held up three fingers to indicate the number of minutes left until the second half.
"Okay. We'll keep it brief. Come on up here Senator."
Layla stood there like a good representative of the school, grinding her teeth as Gerald Conley took the microphone and said a few things about how sports can bring a town together and how he's a firm believer in the power of public schools.
She dug her nails into her palms when Brody smiled at her over his shoulder as he and the Senator left the field. Of course Brody took the mic with him.
Her eyes locked with Derek's again, but she looked away and didn't look back. She motioned to Morgan, who blew her whistle and led the band off the field. Layla's hands shook too much to blow her whistle herself.
Her chest tightened as she pulled herself together, smashing the hurt and anger down inside her, just as she always did. She was calm. She was cool. She could handle anything that jerk Brody threw at her.
She always did.
She just couldn't handle the thought of letting down her kids or having the remnants of her department ripped out from under her feet just so the scraps could be the finishing touch on Brody's vendetta.
And she sure as hell couldn't handle wondering what that look on Derek's face meant.
*******************************
That son of a bitch needed another punch in the face because the first one sure as hell hadn't done the job. Derek had been thinking about how good it would feel to plant his fist in the middle of the guy's beefy nose for the entire second half of the game, ever since he stole the mic from Layla.
"I'll meet you guys by the car in a few minutes. I have to take care of something." Derek climbed down from the stands ahead of Rose and Adam.
People in the crowd were casting them curious glances as they had been all night, and a few even looked like they were going to approach them, but no one did. It was quite amazing, really.
Over the week he'd introduced himself here and there. A few people had come up to him with nervous questions or to ask for a picture, but for the most part, the inhabitants of Maybe had given him his space.
If they kept acting like that, he could almost convince himself he really did belong there.
"You are going to check on her, aren't you?" Rose said. She'd remained quiet about Layla for the entire game, which must have been torture for her.
Adam was silent, as usual.
"Yeah." There was no point in denying it. Rose did have that whole "twin mind-link" going on, so she'd know if he was lying. Or she'd just follow him and find out he was lying that way.
"Good. Something was wrong at half-time. She looked like she wanted to kick that guy in the nuts then puke on his shoes. Don't you think she looked like she wanted to puke on his shoes?" she said to Adam.
Adam shrugged. "We'll be in the car."
"Have you apologized to her yet for being so mean to her when all she wanted was to play board games with you?"
Derek paused, wishing he had a machete to sever the twin-link right about now.
"Don't give me that look, mister. It's true. I was embarrassed for you. Go beg for forgiveness. Grovel if you have to. Don't come back until you do." She waved her hands at him in dismissal.
He sighed and headed off in the direction of the band. When Rose was right, she was right.
The last of the kids were just heading out to the parking lot, and Layla was alone next to the bleachers, packing up her blanket and clipboard.
Derek had tried to pretend that Layla was nothing to him, that he didn't care what she thought of him. He tried to tell himself that he only came to the game tonight to prove to her that he could...and also because Cody had asked him. It was the least he could do after the way he'd humiliated the kid the first time they met.
When he tried his lies out on Rose, they sounded flat, even to him. Naturally she decided to come with. She'd taken a sudden interest in the town's marching band.
Derek refused to talk to any of them about Layla, but that didn't stop them from talking to each other. Well...mostly Rose and Wolf had done the talking. Seth didn't give a shit and Adam never was the interfering type.
There was never any question of whether Adam would go with them. If Derek was going, and Rose was going, Adam was going, too. Just like when they were young, before they got too busy with the band to go with Rose anywhere.
It had always been that way. Rose did what she wanted, and Derek and Adam went along to make sure she didn't get into any trouble.
Derek had to admit, it felt nice sitting there with his sister and his best friend, doing nothing more than watching a high school football game.
Or it had been nice until Derek realized it wouldn't be as easy as he thought focusing on the game and not on the beautiful woman at the end of the field with the band, the one he blew his shot with.
Her sexy, dark hair fell in a silken sheet down her back from under her green and blue Maybe H.S. hat, and every now and then her dark eyes turned toward the bleachers, though she wasn't looking at him.
She didn't know he was there at first.
Derek could tell the moment that girl--Ed's granddaughter--informed her of his presence. Her back stiffened. Her feet froze to the ground. It was as if she constructed an invisible wall between them from across the field, and under no circumstances would she cross over to his side.
That's fine. He would cross it to get to her.
Nothing would stop him from trying to make things right.
"Hey," he said.
She straightened and hoisted her bag on her shoulder. Her eyes were red, as if she were struggling not to cry. "Do we have to do this now?"