Surprising Advice

"Jesus, Trent. Another piece?" Max muttered, watching as his friend grabbed a large piece of greasy pizza. Combined with the other slices he had taken from the boxes, Max estimated that Trent ate at least a large pizza by himself.

"What can I say? I love me some Luigi's," Trent mumbled with his mouth already full.

"I do too, but none of us love when you get gas afterward. I'm sitting in the front on the way home," Max declared, earning a dirty glare from the other teen.

The six teens sat spread out among two couches and several chairs in the Thornes' unfinished basement watching the Browns and Steelers game on the large flat-screen television. Coach Thorne had turned the small basement into his personal football-themed man cave. The area they sat in took up the largest portion of the room from near the bottom of the stairs to the southeast corner. Over near the southwest corner, an oval-shaped conference table could seat eight people. The team captains often met on Thursday nights to go over any last-minute adjustments before their game the next night. Currently, the table held the remnants of the pizzas that Ivory had delivered from Luigi's.

Over along the northside of the wall sat a washer, dryer, and laundry tub. The only non-football related items anywhere in the basement. The northwest corner of the room held Coach Thorne's office. Two file cabinets flanked a large desk with an outdated desktop computer on top of it. The basement held mementos from both Rex's high school and college playing days, and from his time coaching the Azure Rocks Bears. In the center of the room stood two large rolling dry-erase boards littered with plays.

Late into the second quarter of the game with the Browns up 10-3, Coach Thorne was in a jovial mood. Shrugging off the Steelers' recent field goal, he sat regaling them with stories of the times he faced several players in the game while in college. Of course, he mostly stood on the sidelines as an injured quarterback during his college career, but that didn't diminish from how he narrated his tales. Perched on his right side, Dawson Fox listened in awe at how his coach once shared a field with future NFL players. Only the friendly Kona joined the conversation between the coach and his new protégé. The others, especially Xavier, groaned and rolled their eyes at the tales they'd heard numerous times.

"Baker Mayfield is a stud," Dawson proclaimed. "He's going to be a huge star!"

"Seems like a bitch," Xavier mumbled, earning him a stern look from Thorne. Brandon nodded in agreement.

"I want to fashion my style after him," Dawson boasted, giving his two teammates a dismissive face. "Do you think I can be that great, Coach?"

Having enough of the kid's brown-nosing, Max got up and went upstairs to use the bathroom.

"Baker's very talented, as are you, Dawson. But he's been too undisciplined this year," Rex stated. "I'd recommend studying Patrick Mahomes. He won last year's MVP for a reason. Learn from his habits."

"Mahomes is cool and all, but I love Mayfield's swagger," Dawson gushed as the player threw a poor pass on the screen.

Bored at the same old stories, and annoyed at Dawson taking his usual spot, Brandon got up and placed his dirty paper plate in the trash. Wandering around the room, he gained a new appreciation of the pictures on the walls. Gazing at the team picture from several years ago, he couldn't believe he looked so young as a freshman. His eyes scanned several more of the official team pictures, recalling past friends and rivals. Is it all over already? Did I focus so much on winning and impressing colleges that I failed to enjoy my time with the guys?

A sideline picture captured by a Busy Bear reporter showed a dirty, sweaty, and bruised RJ Ridge pointing out what went wrong to a clean-uniformed, babyfaced Brandon. Sparked by the black and white photograph, Brandon's eyes grew misty as he recalled that game. Mountain Falls had demolished Azure Rocks late in the regular season. The Bears offensive line had been pushed around all day, leaving Ridge to spend most of the day running for his life. An unfortunate omen that foreshadowed their elimination in the playoffs. Yet, there stood the bruised and battered quarterback taking the time to show the young sophomore what went wrong. Even in his most disastrous game, RJ cared enough to teach Brandon how to avoid the same fate in the future.

"I want you to buckle down, Dawson. You need to focus on prepping for next year and doing well in school. Don't let yourself get wrapped up in a girl," Coach Thorne advised his young charge. "There will be time for that later."

"You got a girl yet, Fox?" Trent asked.

"Not yet. But I got my eye on a few," the kid said with a smirk.

"Dawson, what did I just say?" Coach Thorne questioned.

"Coach, you can't hold down a player from dropping some game on the ladies," Xavier informed him. "This might be his only shot until the girls learn what a jerk Fox here is."

"And they're going to find out," laughed Trent.

Wiping a tear, Brandon glanced around to make sure that no one noticed. His gaze fell on Dawson, sitting next to Thorne. RJ had spent the time to mentor both him and Mason. He told them that Owen had done the same for him, as did the previous quarterbacks. Fox might be a brat-—alright, a little shit—but shouldn't I at least try and mentor him before I graduate? I guess I assumed that Howie—oh, shit does Howie know? Brandon wondered, thinking of Howard Cline, his backup quarterback. A steady, capable player, Brandon spent most of his time talking plays with the junior. Neither practically cared for Dawson's attitude as the injured third-stringer mostly complained or boasted over what he could do on the field. I bet Howie knows. I wouldn't put it past Fox to have bragged about his invite for today.

"What the hell was that?!" screamed Coach Thorne at the TV. "Play some fucking defense!"

Noticing that the Steelers had scored a quick touchdown and the extra point would tie the game at 10-10, Brandon suddenly wanted out this basement. While he enjoyed watching any football game, Brandon didn't feel like fake rooting for Thorne's beloved Browns anymore. Climbing the stairs, he headed for the bathroom to empty his soda-filled bladder.

After finishing, he noticed the sounds of a loud game and talking down the hall in the living room. Venturing that way, Brandon peeked around the corner to Ivory half-sitting on the couch, while Max sat in the armchair. He didn't notice his presence, but the coach's wife did. Smiling, Ivory waved him into the room.

"It's snowing in New York."

"Check it out, man!" Max gestured toward the screen. A light covering of snow covered the field with the Packers up 17-10 over the Giants as the first half wound down. "Now, this is football."

Ignoring the free armchair in the corner next to the television, Brandon retook the dining room chair that he had pulled next to the couch earlier. It gave him a better view of the screen and placed him near the beautiful woman.

As a diehard fan, Max grew frustrated as the Packers' two-minute offense sputtered, forcing them to punt with less than a minute left. After the previous week's shellacking at the hands of the 49ers, Brandon could tell that his friend was more worried about their season than he let on. Fortunately, the Giants fail to mount a scoring drive, and the half ends at 17-10. Immediately flipping around, Max stops on the low-scoring Colts-Titans game.

"Hey, you seem down. Is everything alright?" Ivory asked, studying Brandon.

"Nah, I'm good," Brandon lied. He leaned forward, placing his knees on his elbows as to appear interested in the game. Unfortunately, Ivory didn't buy his renewed interest as a bored Max flipped around for a more exciting game.

"Don't give me that, Brandon. You look everything but good."

"I am," Brandon insisted, shrugging shoulders.

"Max, what's wrong with Brandon?" she asked his friend, changing her tactics. The other teen sat frowning at the halftime show's recap of the other games.

"Damn, he's on my fantasy team," Max grumbled, after seeing the dismal first-half performance of his star running back.

"Max, what's wrong with Brandon?" Ivory repeated.

"Fuck—I mean crap. Sorry, Mrs. Thorne. What? Oh, I don't know. Girlfriend stuff?" Max replied absentmindedly with a question. His attention too focused on player stats. "Kessler is so beating me this week. My playoff hopes are pretty much dead."

"Are you having problems with Ashley?" Ivory questioned, turning back to Brandon. The teen shot an unnoticed dirty look at his friend.

Great! Thanks a lot, Max. I can't tell her I'm mad and hurt at how her husband treated me.

"Yeah, I guess. We had a fight last night, and Ash said she won't talk to me until tomorrow," Brandon revealed.

"Ooh, what did you do?" she asked disapprovingly.

"Why did it have to be what I did?" Brandon protested, Ivory merely stared at him, waiting for an answer. Buckling under her gaze, he muttered, "She says I'm too hard on my sister."

"Well, that's nothing new. That poor, poor girl. You need to lighten up on Madison."

"Why does everyone say that?! I'm trying to protect her from jerks," Brandon insisted, gesturing wildly with his arms. "You see how guys on the team talk about and treat girls. Rather than thank me for being an awesome brother, people act like I'm the villain."

"Oh, Bran. There's nothing wrong with being worried about your sister. Usually, that's a good thing, honey, but you tend to take it too far. You need to let her learn about boys in a safe environment. What's going to happen when she's alone at college? Shouldn't Madison get a high school relationship like the one you have with Ashley?"

"No, she shouldn't!" Brandon exclaimed, shuddering at the thought of his sister having regular sex with a boyfriend like he has with Ashley.

"Max, back me up on this. Shouldn't Madison be able to date?" Ivory queried, trying to pull him into the conversation.

"What?! Oh, hell, no. I'm not getting into this stuff," Max responded, giving the coach's wife an are-you-insane look. "Last time I got in-between the twins, Brandon wiped a football into my back, and Maddie kicked me in the stomach when I was on the ground."

"Brandon! You really did that to your friend?" Ivory snapped. She wasn't at all happy for him to smile and shrug.

"Talk to Trent. They don't do their Wonder Twins act and gang-up on him," Max muttered.

"Well, I hope you don't screw up your relationship with Ashley over it. I think she's a good influence on you. Don't you think that, Max?" Ivory asked, continuing her attempt to bring the other teen in on her side.

"I guess. He's usually in a better mood when she's around."

"I can see why. That girl's such a sweetheart. Did you know I hung out with her on Friday night?" Ivory inquired.

"Friday night? She slept over at Heather's house," Brandon stated, quizzically.

"Yes, the cheerleaders and a few others had a pedicure party. Heather's father hired a few of the girls from the salon, and I went with to style some hair," Ivory revealed. "Boy, that's some house...or I guess you'd call it a mansion."

"Ash didn't tell me that part."

"Probably as you were too busy fighting."

We were busy...busy fucking! Brandon laughed internally.

"That girl wouldn't stop gushing about you. And I did notice that Madison wasn't at the party. Is that what set off your fight?" Ivory asked.

"Nah, my sister isn't in girly stuffy like that. And we didn't just fight about her. There were other—"

"Other what?"

"Nothing. Can we not talk about this?"

"Brandon, you can't be like Rex, and ignore issues by burying your head into football," Ivory said from personal experience. "Relationships are about compromises, whether with your girlfriend or your sister. The first step is listening when they're mad at you."

Max felt awkward watching the conversation. So when his stomach rumbled, he used that as an excuse to escape to the bathroom.

Waiting until she heard the click of the bathroom, Ivory decided to help Brandon by getting to the heard of the matter. "So what happened in this fight? What's the other thing?"

"Mrs. Thorne, I really don't—"

"Ivory," she reminded him to call her.

"Ivory, I really don't want to talk about this with you."

"Okay, fine. But tell me who you will talk to this about? Your mom?"

"What?! I'm not talking to Mom about this!" Brandon exclaimed. "Are you crazy?!"

"Ah-ha! So, it is more than just being overprotective about Madison. Spill the details, buddy."

"There are no details. We were messing—I mean hanging out," Brandon caught himself.

"Did you try and stick it somewhere she didn't want you too?" Ivory arched an eyebrow. "Or make a dumb suggestion?"

"God, why did I even come over here today," moaned the teenager. "It's not...we didn't...I don't know what happened."

"Hmmm," Ivory murmured, studying him intently. An idea started to form in her head, but she wasn't sure. Going back and forth over the reasons why and why not, she finally just asked it. "Is there another girl?"

"What? No!" Brandon nearly shouted.

"Brandon Cole, you better have not cheated on your sweet girlfriend," Ivory glared at him.

"No, I didn't, I swear! Why would you even think that?" he vehemently denied, rising from his seat.

Folding her arms, Ivory sat silently watching the teen. Brandon paced around the living room for almost thirty seconds until he sat back down on the chair. He put his head in his hands for an equal thirty seconds. Hearing the exhaust fan from the bathroom switch on, Brandon knew Max wouldn't be back for some time.

"I didn't cheat. I would never do that," he said to the floor.

"But there is another girl," Ivory stated, not asked.

"I saw something the other day. Something I shouldn't have seen," Brandon divulged, almost in relief. The weight of what he saw at the Riveras' house had been heavier than he wanted to admit to himself. "And now I can't forget what I saw."

"This thing you saw. Was it good or bad?"

"Good. Very good. The hottest thing I've ever seen," Brandon declared, finally looking up and turning to face Ivory.

"Oh, wow, you got it bad, don't you?"

The teenager nodded shamefully.

"And does Ashley suspect?"

"No! She...I sort of got carried away last night. You know while we fooled around," Brandon hesitantly revealed.

"Were you imaging this other girl? I assume it's a girl and not someone older," Ivory clarified, growing intrigued over who rattled him.

"Yeah," he whispered so softly she barely heard it.

"It's okay to fantasize about someone else," Ivory tried to soothe him, but Brandon shook his head in shame.

"Not her...I've known her almost all my life. There's...other reasons too," Brandon replied, too ashamed to admit that Lisa also dated one of his friends.

"Brandon, you're eighteen, and you're going to fantasize about other girls, even older women. I'm sure you've done that before. Let's be honest, you've absolutely done that before," Ivory added, chuckling.

"Not like this. The image of Li—her is burned into my mind," Brandon almost sobbed with the revelation.

"Alright," the twenty-eight-year-old woman nodded, considering her next words. "When did this happen?"

"Friday."

"Well, there you have it! It's been only two days. That's why it's overwhelming you. Just give a few more days, and it will go away," Ivory suggested.

"I don't know if I can make it what long. I keep on getting hard—I..fuck it! Yeah, I get fucking hard as a rock just thinking of her name," Brandon revealed, positioning his arm to cover his groin.

"Ohhh! Yep, you got it bad," Ivory giggled.

"It's not funny!" the teen angrily snapped, before shifting at once to a despondent tone. "What if it doesn't go away?"

"Then, you need to consider breaking up with Ashley," Ivory replied, softy and with a frown.

"I don't want to break up with her!" Brandon nearly whined.

"Look, I love Ashley, Bran. She's a wonderful girl. Not only is she kind and caring, but she actively works to bring happiness to others. That's the kind of girl I would kill for my brother to marry someday," Ivory explained.

"So, why would you tell me to dump her?" Ashley's boyfriend challenged.

"First, because if the temptation of this other girl is too strong, you need to do the right thing and break up, not dump, Ashley before you cheat. Breakups are never easy, but you need to do it in the proper way. Whatever you do, don't cheat. Don't hurt her that way," the married woman sternly warned him. "You might get away with it, but it still is there to someday be discovered."

"I would never do that!" the teen vowed.

"You're an eighteen-year-old who's horny and will get caught up in the moment. Cheating at your age just seems to happen. You'll justify a reason, they all do," Ivory stated sincerely.

"Second, you're eighteen! As wonderful as Ashley is, there's almost zero chance you end up with her forever. Fifty years ago, the odds would've been greater. Society has changed, and the pressure to marry soon doesn't happen. You have what I see as three big obstacles coming. Graduating high school and going to separate colleges, twenty-one and the temptation of legal booze, bars, and clubs, and finally graduating college and entering the real world." Brandon listened intently as Ivory rattled off his future life experiences. "Even if you survive that long by some miracle, you will both change and become different people. You might stick together only because it's what you've always done, but over time one or both of you might resent that."

"But I—" Brandon started to respond, but he heard the bathroom door open.

"Uh, remind next time not to drink Trent's cheap beer," Max whispered to Brandon after Ivory stood up to get them dessert.