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through the halls of Franklin High School.
    “You gonna ask him?” Quinn asked.
    “I don’t know,” Jesse said. “I mean … I’m not really QB material.”
    Langston dismissed Jesse’s second thoughts. “Don’t put yourself down. You sure looked like a quarterback practicing with us yesterday afternoon.”
    “Even your brother said you were looking pretty good,” Quinn added.
    “That’s just messing around and running patterns in the park.” Jesse eyed his friends. “I mean, it’s not like Quinn here is a real wide receiver.”
    “Hey, what do you mean?” Quinn frowned. “I caught almost every pass you threw me. I think I’d make a good tight end. If the coaches would let me.” He gave Langston a good-humored shove. “And Langston was good too … for a little guy.”
    “I don’t know …,” Jesse repeated.
    “Come on, you can’t back down now,” Quinn said, pushing open the door of the locker room. “You promised your brother, remember?”
    Jesse remembered. He’d promised his brother again early that morning as Jay piled into the family car for the ride back to college.
    Jay was keeping his part of the deal. Now it was time for Jesse to keep his.
    “You gotta give it a try, man,” Langston said. He lowered his voice so none of the other freshman players could hear him. “You’re
way
better than Kurt.”
    When Jesse stepped out onto the practice field, he saw Coach Butler and Coach Vittone talking together.
    “Now’s your chance,” Quinn insisted.
    Jesse could feel Quinn’s hand on his back. “Okay, okay. Quit pushing.” Jesse took a deep breath. It was now or never.
    “Hey, Coach!” Jesse hoped his greeting didn’t sound too cheery.
    Coach Butler looked up from his clipboard. “Hey, Jesse! Ready to work hard today?”
    “Yeah, but—” Jesse took a deep breath. “I was kind of wondering, you know, if I could try playing quarterback. You know, now that Henry is hurt and everything?”
    Coach Butler looked surprised. “You ever played quarterback?” he asked.
    “Not exactly, but I practiced all this weekend with Quinn as my tight end and Langston as wide receiver. My brother Jay said I’ve got a good arm. Not great, but pretty good. And I know the playbook. I used to quiz Jay on it all the time.”
    “Your brother was a real good quarterback,” Coach Vittone said. “One of the best high school quarterbacks I’ve ever—”
    “Yeah,” Coach Butler interrupted. “But he was a lot bigger … taller. I mean …” Hepaused as if he didn’t want to hurt Jesse’s feelings.
    “I don’t know,” Coach Vittone mused. “Some quarterbacks aren’t that big. Drew Brees isn’t very tall. And that kid Wilson out in Seattle is pretty short.” The older coach reached back into his grab bag of football memories.
    “Think about Fran Tarkenton. He was an average-sized guy. Ended up in the Hall of Fame. Threw for more than 340 TDs … took a couple teams all the way to the Super Bowl.” He chuckled. “They called him ‘the Mad Scrambler’ because of the way he moved around in the backfield.”
    The smile disappeared from Coach Vittone’s face and he got serious. “Jesse here’s got some speed. And what does it matter whether he
looks
like a quarterback so long as he
plays
like a quarterback?”
    Coach Butler rubbed his chin, thinking over the idea.
    “Might be worth a try,” Coach Vittone said.
    “You say you know the playbook?” Coach Butler asked.
    “Yes sir. Backwards and forwards.”
    Butler rubbed his chin again, a little harder. “Okay,” he said finally. “We’ll let you run some plays today. See how you do. Now get warmed up.”
    Quinn and Langston were on Jesse the moment he joined the warm-ups. “Are they gonna let you try?” Quinn asked.
    “Yup.”
    “All right!”
    After the usual warm-ups and drills, Coach Butler gathered the players in a circle. “Let’s run some plays. Kurt, you’re at quarterback. Defense, remember: no tackling. Just engage