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Sasha

The clock in my car's dash read 4:30 pm; my phone read 4:30 pm; if I could've calculated time via the sun's location in the sky I probably would've gotten 4:30 pm there too. Why is it then, that when we agree to meet someone somewhere the other party is always--_always--_late?

I drummed my fingers across the steering wheel before me and peered peevishly out of the window. I let out a ragged breath and it clouded the glass. It was so cold. I'd turned the car off to save gas, but I was missing the heater already. I wriggled my tail up from the floorboard and curled it up in my lap for a little extra warmth.

Scanning the parking lot again for the umpteenth time I still caught no sight of my track coach's Volkswagen.

"Come on, Mindy," I grumbled. "You said you'd be here at four."

I jumped as a raccoon child ran screaming and laughing by the rear of my car, and when his father hustled after him with a steaming cup of coffee clutched lovingly in his paw I'd had enough. I was cold--no matter how puffy I'd gotten from my winter coat coming in. I wanted hot beverages and a warm, cozy atmosphere to doze in, and Mindy could just show up whenever she wanted to share this "great news" she'd been chattering on about. That's why I was here in the first place after all. Earlier today before I'd gone to the hospital she'd called to tell me to meet her here at Café Perks as apparently her news couldn't wait. Well, fine--that was great, but I wanted to be with Red. She was wasting valuable time I could be spending with my Bo. This was seriously ticking me off.

My ears flicked to the sound of car doors opening. The raccoons were clambering into an SUV a few parking spaces away from me, and I caught the last remnant of the papa's coffee as it wafted up into the atmosphere before he closed his door. I frowned. My mouth watered. I unbuckled my seatbelt.

"Java will make it better," I assured myself, and even as I said it a smile crept across my face. I hadn't been to Perks since before I'd gotten attacked. It'd be nice to see the staff again. Well, one staff member in particular. "If you still work here," I mumbled, slipping out into the cold before slamming my door and locking it. I'd made sure to get that stupid fob fixed. I then zipped up my green track hoodie, smoothed some wrinkles out of my jeans, and made my way around and headed for the café.

The strong scent of fresh brew and pastries clouded around me before I even made it inside, and then the warmth of the café had me unzipping my hoodie almost upon entering. The door slammed with a chorus of trilling sleigh bells that were nailed to the frame, and I grimaced as the furs inside sitting at booths or by the fireplace turned to stare. Their eyes didn't linger though, and I was glad by that. Ever since the news got out about Red, Lee, and me I'd been getting a lot of unwanted attention. Though, everyone here just turned back around and picked up the conversations they'd left off or drank from their mugs. I was happy coffee addicts had such fidgety attention spans. Still, I slipped hastily to the counter.

There wasn't anyone at the register which was weird. I bobbed my ears as I shrugged and just looked over the menu while waiting for the barista to return. By the time I'd made up my mind I was still alone up there though. My tail began to writhe as my previous bout of antsy started to build up again, and I strode up and peered over the counter into the kitchen area. I heard pots banging and cups clinking, a blender roared to life, and someone squealed as something heavy slammed. I caught a glimpse of black fur as the worker rushed about back there, but they were so busy that they hadn't even bothered to look out front.

"Hey," someone called.

I leaned back to my side of the counter to find a pretty Dalmatian sitting at a booth by the window and smirking at me over her laptop. She bobbed her head toward the ruckus going on in the kitchen, and we both flinched as the cacophony of a pan hitting the floor spilled out.

"You'll have to yell at him," she chuckled. "They're really understaffed today for some reason. His partner's on break and he's trying to get stuff done while things have slowed down."

"Oh," I said. "Well, that's a bit unfair to leave him here by himself."

The Dalmatian shrugged, still smiling. "I know, but he loves it. He's used to it too. Just holler. He'll come running."

She winked and resumed typing, and I leaned forward over the counter again, slightly uneasy about yelling at someone who was so obviously overwhelmed.

"H...hello?"

I was greeted by more banging pots.

I sighed and cleared my throat. "HELLOOOOOO!?"

Utter silence followed by more silence. My voice seemed to reverberate off of every wall. You could have heard a pin drop, let alone another pan. And another pan did drop. I froze as the metallic clang rattled in my clenched teeth, knowing that everyone in the café was staring at me. My face burnt hot, but I just leaned back and stood there.

"That was better," I heard the Dalmatian say approvingly, and then everyone lost interest and went back to what they were doing. I relaxed a little and waited, twiddling with the drawstrings of my hoodie.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," I heard before I saw anyone. Then a familiar face hustled out of the kitchen with a tray of freshly made...well, I don't know what they were. The slim, hunky black wolf hadn't recognized me yet, and he sat the pan of whatever it was down on the counter then grimaced as he patted flour off of his apron. I grinned as he looked up at me. "Again, sorry, I was..." He froze and pinched his lips together. Realization made a grin curl across his muzzle. His brow furrowed as he squinted and looked me over, his eyes lingering on my head, and then he cocked an eyebrow. "You got a haircut."

Lord. I rolled my eyes and smiled. "Nice to see you too, Stephen."

"It's nice to see you too, Sash." He pointed to my hair. "It looks good. I didn't recognize you, but--oh." He grinned toothily and crossed his sinewy arms. "You haven't been in for a mug in, what, a few months? It's no wonder I couldn't tell who you were."

Oh, Stephen. I crossed my arms and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Like you don't know why I haven't been here in months," I said.

His vermillion eyes popped at that and his smile disappeared. He shook his head, the motion tousling his feathery blonde hair. "Yeah," he said. "I honestly couldn't believe it when I heard. I'm really sorry."

Oh god, I knew it was coming. Or at least I was expecting him to be overtly sympathetic and toss out some hollow remorse. But he cut me off before I could tell him to save it.

"But," he said. "I know you've probably had enough of the 'I'm-so-sorry's,' so I won't make you suffer through any more of them."

Thank the lord. I sagged in relief where I stood. Words could not express how much I'd missed Stephen and his understanding of how I worked. He'd always seemed to just get me.

He'd been a senior and the captain of the track team at Emerald Bluff when I was a freshman. I could count on both paws all the times he'd saved my ass back when I used to get into fights over others picking on how I looked. It was a mystery to me why he did it. He'd toss chumps into lockers, knock them off of their feet when they'd try to get at me, but he never told me why. I was always grateful, but having him constantly pulling me out of the fire made me angry too. I didn't want anyone fighting my battles for me. I wanted to take my rage out on those that deserved it. Apparently he'd been able to tell that, and so he channeled my fury into something lucrative: Running. Like Conall, Stephen became a role-model for me. He still is, too.

"Thanks," I said.

He waved his paw dismissively. "Yeah, yeah--still, we need to catch up."

"Ahem," someone coughed daintily. Stephen looked wide eyed over my shoulder, and I turned to find that it had been the Dalmatian getting his attention.

"Yes, dear?" Stephen chirped, batting his eyelashes.

"Job first, honey," she said. "Catching up later."

Stephen stuck his tongue out at her. She returned the gesture. I swiveled my head from one to the other. I knew I hadn't been to see my friend in a while, but this was new: A girlfriend? Stephen the lone wolf had a girl? He caught me staring in surprise and rolled his eyes.

"I know right?" he said.

I snickered. "I have missed a lot."

He chuffed, smiled, and leaned against the counter. "You don't know the half of it. Anyway, what can I get'cha? The usual? Well, if the usual is still the usual. Your tastes may have changed over the long span of me not seeing you."

"Okay, okay," I sighed. "I'm sorry I haven't been back in a while."

"You ought to be," he said coyly. He then turned around, but he paused and turned back eyeing me. "White-chocolate macadamia nut latte, extra shot, extra pump of syrup?"

I knew he wouldn't forget. "Yep."

"Coming right up!"

He busied himself with making my drink. When I'd last seen him he'd just gotten this job while attending college to practice physical therapy like my sister, and he'd had two left feet while behind the counter. From the ruckus earlier I guess that hadn't changed completely, but, as I stood there watching, he moved about gracefully like a dancer balancing cups and pitchers on his arms, methodically grinding espresso beans and steaming milk and pouring syrups. His paws were almost a blur, and I only looked away from them to examine the tray of things he'd brought out from the kitchen.

They looked and smelled wonderful: perfectly brown, doughy, and cinnamony. In fact, they appeared to be cinnamon rolls...that had been run over by a steam roller. The baked dough swirled inward like I was used to seeing, but the things were completely flat and cookie-like, and they lacked frosting, instead being coated in a glistening crust of brown and powdered sugar and cinnamon.

"They're called sweet tahini rolls," Stephen said over his shoulder. He'd caught me eyeing the tray. "Try one. They're really good; I swear."

"You made them?"

He paused, his tail going limp, and turned to me with an abashed look upon his face. "Why? You don't trust my culinary skills?"

"Uh..." I recalled a time in home-economics when he'd tried to make hot cocoa with milk in the microwave and curdled it, and once he'd made cake for the track team that laid us all out for a few days. I rubbed the back of my head. "Well..."

He looked genuinely hurt. "Come on, I work at a freaking coffee shop. I've learned how to bake by now. Have a little faith in me, WF."

Man, he had to resort to sentimentalities. Now I felt like a douche. WF--short for "White Flash"--is the nickname he'd coined for me when he was captain. It's been on my jersey every year sense then.

"Okay," I said apologetically. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"Mmhmm," he mumbled, smirking as he sat my drink on the counter for me. He then picked a particularly delicious looking tahini roll, wrapped it in serving paper, and offered it to me. I took it without delay and his tail started wagging again.

"Thanks," I said.

"No worries," he said perkily. He then looked to the door as the sleigh bells trilled. "Welcome to Perks...oh, hey coach and...other coach!"

I twitched around, nibbling on the tahini roll--which was delectable-- and came eye to eye with Mindy. She was struggling to get out of a huge green, marshmallow-like parka, and she waved at us before asking the hulking Weimaraner who'd walked in with her to grab an arm and pull.

The glossy, silver furred atlas of a dog was coach Trace. He'd taken over for Corbin after the Doberman had been put away. Why he was here too I had no idea.

"Hey, Sasha," Mindy said as she came to stand next to me. She then squeezed me tightly in a hug. "Sorry we're late. Something, uh, came up."

Trace rolled his mocha-brown eyes as he folded Mindy's jacket over one of his bulging arms. "That's the understatement of the century."

I bobbed my head in surprise when he spoke. His voice was surprisingly pleasant. I think I expected rumbling grunts and single syllabic words, but Trace had a sophisticated, intelligent air about him. Well, I knew he was smart. Red had told me he came up with all of the plays for the football team. Corbin was just the handsome face who liked yelling orders around.

"Hey there, Sasha," he said cheerily.

I gulped and waved awkwardly. He was a giant! I had to look up at him when he greeted me and smiled sweetly, his massively floppy ears wiggling. I didn't know what they fed football enthusiasts, but--Jesus! He had to be over eight feet tall with shoulders as wide and jutting as a mountain range. His round chest tapered to--what I'm sure was--a sculpted midsection supported by wide, solid hips atop legs of steel. He was a lot to take in, but, to me, the gentleness and brilliance he exuded outshone his strongman physique.

"What happened?" I asked, averting my gaze to Mindy at my own eyelevel.

A wary glance passed between the two coaches, and then Mindy shook her head. "We'll talk about it in a bit."

"Okay," I muttered, nibbling on my tahini roll some more.

Both of them ordered some coffee. Apparently Mindy frequented Perks as she and Stephen chatted about things while the black wolf made their drinks. It made me feel...I don't know--_cheery--_to see that Mindy was still connected to the kids she taught and trained.

Trace lingered next to me while the two wolves talked. I jumped as he leaned over and peered inquisitively at the pastry I was enjoying. "What's that?" he asked. "It smells great."

Enter Stephen the wonder barista.

Anyway, the two coaches went to find a table with coffee and tahini rolls in hand. Stephen gave me another after seeing how much I liked them-- relishing in that fact and rubbing it in my face as I took the thing--and then he leaned against the counter and grinned at me.

"When's your break?" I asked.

"Whenever I want it to be."

"Can it be after Mindy's done with me?"

"You bet."

I started to walk to the table Mindy and Trace had picked, but I remembered I hadn't paid for my drink or the rolls.

"Stephen," I said, but he'd gone back into the kitchen.

"On the house!" I heard him call.

Oh. I guess I was getting perks from more than just my coffee. So, happy as only a tightwad can be when they get stuff for free, I glided over to the coaches.

"So," I said as I pulled out a chair and sat. "What's up?"

I hadn't known what to expect, but I got the feeling that something was amiss. That feeling only grew as Mindy cleared her throat. "Good news or bad news first?" she asked.

"Hey now," Trace whimpered. "They're both good things."

Mindy looked apologetically to him. "Sorry."

"Uh," I stammered. "Well, good then I guess." I took a sip of my coffee and wiped the foam from my upper lip afterward.

"Okay," she said. "Well, I had a little discussion with everyone on the track roster the other day."

She paused and grinned for some reason. I guess she wanted to build up some suspense, but it just made me really nervous.

"Uh, alright," I said. "And?"

Her coffee mug knocked gently against the worn surface of our table as she picked it up. "We had a vote." She took a much too drawn out swig.

Oh, for Christ's sake. My tail was practically wrapped around the leg of my chair. She knew I hated surprises, and this was more than toying with me.

"Coach, just tell me already," I groaned, nervously running a paw through my shortened hair. She saw my new do and nearly choked on her coffee.

"Oh my god, Sasha," she said after a hacking fit. "It looks so good!"

"Uh, Mindy," Trace said. She looked sideways at him while still admiring my hair. "Focus. You're overdoing it a bit."

"Sorry," she said, folding her paws on the table and looking me square in the eye, her ears erect. I just knew I'd been kicked off of the team or something. "Sasha. We've all decided--in a unanimous decision--that..." She grinned wide. "That you should be the track team's captain for this season." Her eyes popped and she smiled so wide that every tooth in her mouth was visible.

She didn't get the reaction from me she'd anticipated, I'm sure. I just sat there and stared at her. "Come again?"

"We all want you to be the track captain."

Okay, so I had heard her correctly. Now I was perplexed.

"Why?" I asked.

Her enthusiasm dwindled at my lack of enthusiasm. "Why? What do you mean why?"

Okay, so under normal circumstances I probably would have been as overjoyed about this as Mindy had thought I'd be, but it seemed a bit...suspicious...that I was being given this responsibility and honor after all of the crap that had happened recently. Fishy? It reeked of week old halibut. I told her that, too. She didn't take it the wrong way, but she didn't look too happy about my reluctance to be El capitán either.

"It's not like that at all, Sasha," she reassured. "It's just..." She sighed and thumbed her temples. "After everything that happened with Corbin, after what happened to you...I just...I looked back at how I'd been running the team, and I..." She looked up and I choked. Tears were bubbling up into the corners of her eyes. "I didn't like what I saw; I didn't like how I treated you all."

"But, Mindy, you've always been good to us," I said. It was true, too.

She shook her head. "Sasha, you know as much as I do that I was training you all so hard because I wanted to outdo Corbin."

Well, as true as that was and as bad as it sounded. "So? We're a sports team. We like to win."

"But we're not competing against ourselves, Sasha. And you know you don't race for the sole sake of winning. I watch you out there when you finish first." She grinned, wiping her eyes. "You don't do it for yourself. You aren't selfish like I am. I pushed you all for me, not for the team." She pointed to me. "You, on the other hand, run for the team, you win for the team, and you do everything you can for the team. Everyone looks up to you. You're a kindhearted, encouraging, and humble guy, and that's why I--we--want you to be captain."

I didn't know what to say. "Mindy..."

"I'm not done," she said. "You've grown, sweetheart. I've seen you do so; especially over the last few months since...well." I nodded. No need to explain. "You're not a kit anymore, Sasha. Everything that's happened has changed you. It's changed me, too."

I chuffed. "For the better I hope."

Both her and Trace laughed.

"Well duh," she said. Then she grew serious again. "This decision wasn't pity based. I know you can do this, and I have complete faith in you. Plus..." She sat back and crossed her arms. "You're a fighter. You stand up for yourself, for what you believe in, and for those you care about."

As flattered as I was, I peered down into my half empty coffee mug. Thoughts milled about in my head like a maddened hive of bees, images buzzing here and there and through one another until it was almost too hard to stand.

I saw myself as a child being berated and bullied; I saw the same throughout my entire school career; I saw me throwing punches and bloodying noses because I was standing up for myself; I saw Stephen; I saw Conall; I saw the art work I'd done and the impact it had on me accepting who I was; I saw my friends; I saw the track team; I saw the feud we had with the football team growing out of control; I saw Lee; I saw Red. I saw everything that had happened to us and between us; I saw that asshole Corbin; I saw this opportunity.

Here was a chance to straighten things out. Here was my chance to set things right. Red had been the captain of the football team, and--even though he'd been replaced--he still held a lot of sway with the other guys. They respected and looked up to him as Mindy said the members of my team did to me. Mindy was looking to better herself in our eyes, but I knew she wanted redemption as well. I could give her that. I knew that between all of us--Me, Red, Mindy, and Trace--we could get our teams together and be better for it.

"Well?" Mindy asked. "What do you say?"

I looked up and smiled. "I'd be honored."

"Oh, Sasha!" Mindy squealed. She pushed herself out of her seat, and she ruffled my hair and hugged me tightly again before sitting back down and allowing me to breath. "This season's going to be great; I just know it."

God, I hope she was right about that. I smoothed my locks back into order and half-smiled. I mean, since it was my responsibility now to see that we did have a good season, I was going to make sure of it, but--and this is regarding my record so far--things rarely turn out how I want them to. I mean, come on; do I even need to explain? Still, maybe this would be good for me. Although, it would mean that I'd have even less time to spend with Red, and I'd been planning on trying to get Lee to...well, that was probably out of the question even before this.

I took another sip of coffee. "So what was the other thing?"

Mindy stared dumbly ahead for a moment, and then she remembered. "Oh, that's your cue Trace." She elbowed the big dog in the ribs gently, and he laughed. But just as he was about to speak...

She held her paws up defensively. "Before he says anything; just promise me you'll think about it, alright?"

Now I was nervous again. "Uh, okay?"

"I mean, don't overreact or anything. It won't be that bad."

Trace sighed roughly. "Mindy, for God's sake, you're making it sound like I want him to smuggle drugs across the border for me." He chuckled. "Take it easy. You and caffeine aren't a good mix."

The she-wolf was just raising her mug to her lips, but she sat it back down and dipped her head, growing quiet.

"Thank you," he said.

He then turned to me and I found myself smiling as he did the same. That face--as sharp as it was--was really goofy when he grinned. In my mind I saw Trace as the jubilant, lovable galoot of an uncle that spoiled his nieces and nephews rotten. He was probably a lot of fun to be around. I know Red always spoke pretty highly of him, preferring him as a coach much more than Corbin. Apparently he rewarded the guys with praise and encouragement--as a good coach should--instead of blood-boiled rage and insults, so I could see why the team would be more particular to the big guy.

"Anyway," he said. "Sasha, I know you'd probably rather tear your own arm off than do this, but Mindy suggested that I ask anyway."

"What?"

He rubbed the back of his head and tugged on one of his ears when he brought his paw back and sat it in his lap. I could tell he was afraid of what I'd say, but--like before--skirting around the issue was tearing my nerves to pieces.

Then, finally, with a huff he just threw the question out. "Would you please, please, _please--_just this once--consider joining the football team and filling in for our running back?"

Once done he gasped for a breath and smiled pleadingly.

All I could say was, "What?" Had he just...did he just...I was completely boggled.

The big mountain of a dog sagged in his chair. "I know, I know. It's just that we've somehow made it to the state championships." He rolled his eyes. "After losing both Kendrick and Hawthorne I just knew we were done--stick a fork in us for the love of God."

"Wait," I interrupted. "You all kept playing even after Corbin got arrested?"

He nodded with a somewhat confused twitch. "Well, yeah, of course. Just because that maniac..." He flinched and frowned, his eyes darting to Mindy who'd let out a small whimper at the mention of Corbin's mad escapades. "Sorry. Just because Corbin decided to throw his life away didn't mean we had to give up. I mean, the assistant coach is still a coach, and if the head coach is...indisposed...then the other is fully capable of running the team in his absence. And so I have." He frowned heavily again. "What he did to Rudy and Lee was despicable, and I didn't like having to replace them." My heart panged as the Weimaraner smiled sweetly at me. "Rudy's a fantastic young fur and an incredible athlete. I hope you're taking care of him."

I hadn't expected him to acknowledge my relationship with Red. Being the football coach and a herculean male I expected the subject to be taboo with him, but he...accepted it?

"I am," I said in earnest. "Don't worry."

He chuckled. "I'm not worried about Rudy. Both he and Lee will be fine. But..." He paused and took a sip of his coffee. "But Aaron--and this is part of the reason why I'm asking you to join the team..."

Aaron? The fox from the Haunt that Red had been sticking up for? Had something happened to him--again? If I'm remembering correctly he's the guy that had his ankle snapped in practice earlier this year.

"That's right," Trace said when I asked. "I kept telling Corbin to take it easy on him because of his injury and that he could easily get hurt again-- and worse-- if he was pushed too hard." He threw his paws up. "And, as luck would have it, he did. And in the same way as the first time in practice, too."

I cocked my head to the side. "But he was a wide receiver wasn't he?"

Trace nodded. "Yeah, and since we lost Red and Lee and had already replaced them, we had to shift positions around. Someone took Aaron's spot, but that left us short."

Oh. I got him now. My understanding didn't bring me any relief though. "Short a running back, huh?"

"Mmhmm," he confirmed. "And not a single backup player is agile and quick enough to play the position. I swear, the only guys left were built like trains, and they couldn't run a speed drill if you dangled a steak in front of their snouts and told'em to get it. It was like watching glaciers crawling an inch every two years."

"And you think I can do it? Honestly?"

He smirked. "No--I know you can do it. I went to the track meets; I've seen you run relays and sprints and handoffs." He nodded in approval. "You're quick, Sasha; really quick and coordinated, and I need your help big time."

Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaap.

I glared at Mindy, but I couldn't get angry at her for suggesting one of her guys fill in for Trace's missing piece when she knew they'd be a likely fit. Damn you, puzzling situations!

"It's just for this last game," Trace assured. "It's literally the last game of the season, too."

I chuckled inwardly at the irony. "But it's for the state championship?"

He nodded.

"And that title is more or less riding on my shoulders?"

Mindy chimed back in then. "You don't have to do it, Sasha. I can ask another track member, but I..." She sighed. "I knew that you'd be best. I know you can do it."

"She's right," Trace agreed. "On both counts. We can get someone else but they wouldn't be the same, and I know that you can do it as well. Hell, right now, none of my guys could touch you. If you're still as quick as you were the last time I saw you, that is."

Ouch. Way to bait me there, coach. "I am," I said confidently.

"Then prove it," Trace said, his voice growling-deep and daring. "Monday after school come to practice. I'll put you to the test. Sound good?"

I stared unblinking into his brown eyes. As much faith as Mindy had in me being humble, I was a bit competitive, and I didn't like being looked down upon. That was incredibly certain.

I could do this.

"Sounds good."

His seriousness instantly dissolved into bliss and gratitude, and when we all stood I thought he was going to crush me to death in a hug too. But he patted me softly on the back and said he couldn't wait to see me Monday.

Mindy embraced me again, and kissed me on the cheek before looking me in the eye. "Thank you, sweetheart. I'm proud of you for doing this. Well, I'm just proud of you in general."

I smiled while quickly wiping her saliva from my face when she wasn't looking. "Thanks, I guess. It seems I just had a lot of responsibility thrust upon me."

She slipped into her parka, and her tail wagged as she looked me over standing there beside the table. "We wouldn't have asked it of you if we didn't think you were ready and capable of handling it."

Wonder how they came to the conclusion that I was ready? My tail twitched across the floor. "Was it...was it because of everything that happened?"

"Yes and no," she sighed. She then padded back to me and placed her paws on my shoulders. "It's honestly because of how much you've grown and because of how well you've handled all of this. So many furs would have been broken a long time ago dealing with all you've had to endure, Sasha. It's because you're strong." I hugged her this time. "You're so strong."

I was not going to cry. I wasn't. I easily could have too given all the pain I'd probably just signed up for, but...as I watched Mindy go I knew I could do this. Pain wasn't anything new to me anyway.

"Hey." Stephen came waltzing out from behind the counter tugging his apron off and wagging his tail. "You all done?"

I laughed. "Yep, it's time. Stick a fork in me."