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3rd POV
Night had settled over the Cooper household, but this evening wasn't like most others.
The backyard glowed with the warm light of hanging bulbs strung across the fence, smoke from the grill drifting lazily into the Texas air. Laughter and the sound of country music spilled into the night, blending with the chatter of neighbors.
Kids ran across the yard, chasing each other barefoot in the grass. Fathers gathered near the grill, beers in hand, trading small-town gossip while mothers clustered at the picnic tables, voices low but animated, sharing stories only they found interesting.
It wasn't a big party—just enough to fill the Cooper backyard with warmth and noise. A few teachers from Medford High had come at George Sr.'s invitation, and of course, the Sparks family had shown up too.
George Sr. stood at the grill, flipping a line of sizzling steaks. The fire popped, the smell of charred meat hanging heavy in the air. He cleared his throat, then leaned toward Principal Peterson, who stood beside him with a paper plate in hand.
"So… what do you think?" George Sr. asked, his tone cautious but hopeful. "Georgie's got a lot on his plate right now. With the music and everything, I was wondering if maybe y'all could cut him some slack? Make it easier for him to graduate?"
Principal Peterson raised his brows, caught off guard. He shifted uncomfortably and gave a polite smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"George… I get it. Really, I do. But if he wants to graduate, he still has to meet the minimum requirements. Attendance included. I can't bend the rules on that."
George Sr. let out a long sigh, turning the meat with a little more force than necessary. "Yeah… I figured as much."
Wayne, standing beside them, raised an eyebrow at George Sr. "Why doesn't Georgie just take the GED? A lot of artists do that."
Principal Peterson gave a slow nod. "Yeah, you know Kayla already dropped out, right? I'm sure James and Edo will follow soon enough."
Everyone there knew exactly who he meant—Georgie's bandmates. Kayla, Edo, and James all had the reputation of being the 'troublemakers' at school.
But…truth be told, Peterson didn't want Georgie to leave. Having him graduate from Medford High would give the school something to brag about, a name worth showing off.
George Sr. snorted at that. "I already suggested it to Georgie. If he wanted to take the GED, I wouldn't be asking you for a 'special pass.'"
He remembered asking his son about it earlier that afternoon, while they were fixing parts of his old motorcycle.
Georgie had flat-out refused, giving one ridiculous excuse. 'If I drop out, who's gonna be Prom King? I don't want some dunderhead being crowned with what's mine.' And keep working on the motorcycle seriously.
Such a dumb reason. Even Sheldon had shaken his head at that and didn't want to argue with him.
"Right…" Peterson chuckled awkwardly, unsure how to respond.
Mr. Givens, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up, his voice cautious. "You know… our football field really does need repairs…"
The only sound between them for a moment was the crackle of meat on the grill. The teachers—and George Sr. himself—turned to look at him, and Mr. Givens shrank slightly under their collective gaze.
"…Our lockers too," Wayne added quickly, eyeing George Sr. now. "And maybe a spray to freshen up the whole place. You know the smells is really terrible in that room."
"We could use a bigger office as well," he went on, warming up to the idea.
George Sr. twitched at the corner of his mouth, his patience wearing thin. "...Y'all still remember Georgie is my son, right?" he said flatly.
But the teachers carried on, ignoring the warning in his tone.
"…Maybe even a raise for us," Peterson added, his voice thoughtful but hopeful.
"That's… a wonderful suggestion," Mr. Givens agreed, a wide smile spreading across his face.
George Sr. just stood there, caught in the middle of it all, realizing they weren't really talking about Georgie anymore. Not about his grades or attendance.
No—this was about money. Donations. Conspiracies whispered in the smoke of the grill, with him, the boy's father, trapped right in the middle.
"…Damn, y'all really talking about 'donations,' huh?" Herschel muttered, swallowing hard as his wide eyes darted around the group. He glanced at George Sr., who only stared down at the sizzling grill, jaw tight.
"Donation… sounds about right," Peterson said, nodding toward Herschel. He knew Herschel was George's neighbor, and honestly, donations weren't unusual—parents had been doing it for years. And now, if the Coopers joined in, well… it was like killing two birds with one stone, Georgie not gonna drop out and they will have a happy time with money.
"You've got to be kidding me…" George Sr. muttered. Still, in his head, he was already noting down everything he'd be bringing up with Mary later.
Herschel just shook his head. He understood this wasn't his business. George was his friend, and he sure as hell wasn't about to go snitching around about this.
"George," Peterson said smoothly, his smile widening, "you can rest assured about Georgie. Just tell him to focus on his career. Make us all proud."
George Sr. and Herschel exchanged a look. They could practically see it written all over the teachers' faces—the gleam in their eyes as if they were already daydreaming about what car they'd buy once Georgie's 'donation' came rolling in.
—
On the other side of the yard, the women were deep in their own chatter, glasses of juice and beer in hand.
"So, you're all heading to Tennessee soon?" Brenda asked, her voice carrying a clear note of envy as she eyed Mary. "You're gonna see plenty of cowboys and farmers out there, huh?"
Darlene chuckled. "Girl, you sound jealous!" She gave Mary a playful look. "Just remember us when Georgie turns into a sensation, alright?"
Connie took a long sip of her beer, smirking before chiming in. "Yeah, cowboys, farmers, Buck Owens, Roy Clark… maybe even a few country singers in the mix." She gave Brenda a sideways snort, clearly enjoying herself.
Sheryl sighed. "Good for you all, leaving Texas for a while. Meanwhile I'm stuck in Medford… alone."
Mary smiled awkwardly, unsure how to respond, until Mrs. McElroy reached over and patted Sheryl's shoulder.
"You know," Mrs. McElroy said slyly, tilting her head toward the grill, "Mr. Givens is single. And I can tell he's been looking at you."
Sheryl blinked, caught off guard, while the other women followed her gaze toward the men by the fire. One by one, grins spread across their faces—each of them catching the way Mr. Givens smiled just a little too wide at the group. Well, everyone smile so wide except George Sr. and Herschel.
"That man's desperate for somebody to cook him a real dinner," Connie muttered with a smirk, earning a round of chuckles.
"Oh please," Brenda cut in, rolling her eyes. "Half the teachers in that school are desperate. The real question is—who's brave enough to deal with all their baggage?"
That set the women off in laughter again, the kind of laughter that comes with a little too much truth.
"Speaking of baggage…" Darlene chimed in, her tone sly, "Mary, you're really letting Veronica stay at your house so often? Isn't she practically living there now?"
Mary straightened a little, caught off guard. "She's a sweet girl," she replied quickly, sipping her drink. "And she helps out with the twins when I'm busy."
Connie didn't say anything—for once. Truth be told, she liked Veronica too. The girl wasn't just living in their house; she pulled her weight, helped with the chores, and even kept Mary company. Why would Connie want to ruin that?
The women followed Mary's gaze toward Veronica, who was sitting beside Georgie, watching the kids run around the yard with laughter spilling in the air.
"Honestly, I really like that girl," Mary continued with a small smile. "She's not 'just' living under our roof. She helps out so much with chores and little things. It's like I've gained an eldest daughter."
"…" Connie's eyes widened slightly, but she still didn't say a word.
The other women simply nodded, soaking in the warmth of Mary's words, when suddenly another voice rang out across the yard.
"Coopers!"
Pastor Jeff's voice carried easily, drawing every pair of eyes toward him as he strolled in with Selena at his side.
He wasn't wearing his usual pastor's attire tonight. Instead, he looked like any of the other dads—comfortable clothes, relaxed. Selena, however… was a different story.
She looked overdressed for the occasion, in a floral blouse and a skirt that ended just above her knees—not too tight, but paired with heels that looked painfully out of place on the backyard grass. Jeff offered her his arm as they walked, steadying her steps.
The women at the table snorted quietly among themselves, while Mary only offered an awkward smile. "Glad you came, Pastor Jeff," she said politely.
Jeff returned her smile and gave a courteous nod to the women. "Well, you invited me, so of course I had to come. How are you ladies doing this evening?"
"Comfy and relaxed, Jeff," Connie replied, lifting her beer bottle with a grin, and other women on the table grinned too.
Mary shot her mother a warning look, but Jeff only chuckled warmly. "Glad to see you looking lovely," he said before gesturing toward the woman at his side. "Ladies, this is my wife, Selena. I hope you'll make her feel comfortable and welcome tonight."
Darlene's eyes swept Selena from head to toe, her lips twitching. "Honey, with those heels? I'm afraid 'comfortable' is already off the table."
Brenda simply nodded with a small smile. Selena was stunning—carrying herself with an aura that all but said I am a beautiful woman in this world.
"I am sorry… I overdress," Selena said in her careful, broken English, before lowering herself into a chair among them. But her eyes weren't really on the women.
They were searching the backyard—looking for someone.
"Pastor Jeff!" George Sr. called out, waving him over to join the men by the grill. A few of the single guys couldn't help but sneak glances at Selena. Who could blame them? She was gorgeous—but also very much taken. By Pastor on top of that.
Pastor Jeff smiled at the women's table, his tone warm but apologetic. "Sorry, ladies. I've got to go join the pack." Pastor Jeff said and looked at Selena again. "Selena's still learning English, so I apologize if she doesn't follow everything you say." With that, he grabbed a crate of beer and headed toward the men.
For a moment, silence fell over the women's table. None of them seemed to know exactly what to say to Selena.
That was until Selena reached for a bottle of beer, popped the cap off with her teeth, *Clack, and grinned.
"So… what we talking now?" she asked in her English, before taking a long sip.
Then, casually, she pulled a cigarette from her purse, lit it right there in front of them, and leaned back like she'd been at this table her whole life.
Connie's grin spread wide as she lifted her own bottle high. "Hallelujah!"
The others followed suit, raising their drinks in unison toward Selena. Mary just smile but her smile not so much to her ear, but she can only suck it up to keep the atmosphere relaxed and comfy.
Well, she was Mexican after all. She didn't follow Pastor Jeff's holy path the way he wanted her to. Passion wasn't faith—it was fire.
Soon, the table was buzzing with chatter again. Clothes, men, and more men. Mrs. McElroy even took it upon herself to translate every now and then, using the simplest English so Selena could join in.
And just like that… she wasn't an outsider anymore. She was one of them.