The hell of it was, Brent could still be at Will's, still being kissed, still kissing, maybe feeling Will’s mouth on his cock, just the idea of which made him further dampen the front of his boxers. Will had been pissed that he was leaving, and Brent couldn’t blame him, but he’d made a commitment to Quinn and the girls, collectively known as the Quirls. He’d been raised too well to abandon his Quirls just because he’d found the love of his life—an odd thing to call a person who wouldn’t even give you his phone number. 

He’d walked away from the most… Meaningful? Significant? Important? Crucial? orgasm in any Alpha’s life. What a ridiculous dilemma to find himself in. He’d studied the Trolley Problem in school, he’d just never expected to find himself in the cab of the trolley… And he’d never expected it to involve aching azure testicles.

For a split second, he’d considered explaining the Quirls to Will, inviting him to come and watch them play, maybe do a little coaching… But Will was already beyond annoyed, and Brent had no idea what he’d think of that offer. It wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea.

 At least the Quirls would keep him distracted for the next couple of hours. After that, he’d come up with a strategy for unfucking-up his fated mate meet-cute.

He stopped by a Walgreens to pick up what he needed for the evening. Despite his internal drama, everyone needed to stay safe, happy, fed, and hydrated. Then he stepped on the gas so he’d make it across town in time. He didn’t want them to have to start without him.

When Brent arrived at the rec center, he immediately became the nucleus of a mass of squealing bodies as the AAF Phoenixes pee wee basketball team closed in around him. He lifted the drug store bags containing juice boxes, granola bars, and band-aids to keep them out of the fray. 

“Hey Coach!”

“Hi, Coach Bwent!”

“Coach Brent, my third tooth just came out and my mouth is full of blood! Look! Ahhhhhhhhhh.”

“Coach! Quinn says they don’t want to play tonight!”

“Coach! I need to go poop! Can I go poop?”

“Coach, what kind of juice boxes and snacks did you get? I’m not allowed to have nightshades or gluten!”

“Coach! I forgot my basketball shoes! Can I play in my jelly shoes?”

Brent turned in a slow circle and the entire mass of eight-year old children moved with him like a living tutu. He looked for a place to set the bags down, and found a spot on the bleachers. Then he started to work his way through everything he’d just heard.

“Hi back, Carolina!”

“Hi back, Ebony!”

“Hi Kiara, yes, I see that you have a gaping hole in your mouth that is filled with blood! That is very disgusting. Up top! Do you need something to save your tooth in?” He gave Kiara a resounding high five for her achievement. 

Kiara nodded proudly. 

“Ok, I’ll get you something in a sec.”

“Hi Sophia L., where is Quinn right now?”

Sophia pushed her braid back over her shoulder and pointed at the bleachers on the far side of the gym.

“Over there? Okay, I’ll go talk to them while the rest of you Goons warm up.”

“Hi Sophia R., by all means, go poop. You can’t play hard if you don’t poop hard. But don’t strain.”

“Hi Emily S., these are organic apple juice. No artificial anything, no gluten, no nightshades, and I got one box of gluten free granola bars just for you, also containing no nightshades.” 

“Last but not least, hi, Emily T., you left your shoes and socks here after practice on Monday, I washed your socks and I have your shoes in my gym bag.”

He took his gym bag off his shoulder and dug down to the bottom, handing Emily T. her tiny high-tops and a ball of pink socks. Then he found a container of tictacs, dumped the contents into one of the pockets of the gym bag and handed the empty container to Kiara to use as a lost-tooth trophy case. “Put your gross tooth in here and then put it in your gym bag so it doesn’t get lost, Kiara.”

He waved to assorted parents seated in the stands.

“Alright, team, we’ve got forty-five minutes before game time, so let’s start with some warm-ups. I want you to walk three laps around the court and then jog two, nice and easy. Emily T., get your basketball shoes on first and then join in. I’m going to go have a word with Quinn.”

“Yes, Coach!” piped a gaggle of little voices.

Brent stopped for a quick chat with Quinn’s dad to continue their ongoing dialogue about Quinn’s basketball and social needs. Quinn’s dad gave him the rundown. He'd done what he could to repair the damage after he’d picked Quinn up at carpool and heard about their day, but he was hoping Brent might have better luck than he did. 

Kids never listened to their own parents quite as well as they did the “cool” adult coaches or teachers who were generally telling them the exact same things that their “uncool” parents were trying to tell them. That’s why Brent had agreed to take on this whole chaotic endeavor—he’d benefited from the help of a lot of “cool” coaches and teachers and he needed to pay it forward. That, and it was hard to say no to Gabriel. 

He walked across the court and climbed up to the top row of the bleachers where his center was sitting, wedged against the side rail, teary and stressed out.

Damn it. 

He sat down next to his dejected player.

“Quinn? How’s it going, friendo? What’re you doing over here on the opponents’ side? You defecting? Which means joining the other team?”

Quinn shook their head and did not look up at him.

“I hear you’re not playing tonight?”

Quinn shook their head again.

“Is it related to someone saying something stupid to you at school today?”

Quinn nodded.

“Oooh, crud. So, which stupid thing was it? “HA ha, you have to play with girls because you’re not masculine enough to play with boys.” Or was it “HA ha, You’re too masculine to play with girls, so you’re a bully and a cheater.”

Quinn mumbled something, but Brent couldn’t make it out. He ducked his head much lower to hear the mumbled response. “Come again?”

“Thecond one.”

“Ahh, the second one. Very original. I love it when people think they know more about my life than I do. Bet you feel the same. Bet they were the first person to ever make you notice that it sucks to be a trans or nonbinary person who just wants to play a sport. Bet you never heard of anyone picking a fight about that before. That person really broke some new ground and got you thinking, huh? You’re reconsidering everything now, because they were so helpful to you. Am I right? First time? You had no idea any of this was going on until today? All popsicles and baby bunnies until this afternoon?”

Quinn looked up finally and shook their head no and smiled slightly.

“Wait, are you trying to tell me that stupid people keep making the same stupid comments over and over and over without knowing a thing about you or your life?”

Quinn nodded, smiling slightly more.

“That’s wild! You know what, though? That just shows a real lack of imagination on their part. If I was going to harass you, I’d make fun of you for the jacked up way you tie your shoes. Bunny ears? Please. No one does bunny ears anymore. So early 'aughts. Or maybe I’d make fun of your teeth, or should I say lack of teeth. How many baby teeth have you lost in the past month, Quinn? I guess I should ask how many you have left. You look like a flipping jack-o-lantern. I feel like we could stick a flashlight in your mouth and watch your eyes light up. If the tooth fairy has to come to your house again, she’ll be broke and you’ll wake up in a new Bugatti.”

Quinn giggled at this even if they didn’t know exactly what a Bugatti was. 

“Quinn, I know people say crappy things to you when they grow up being afraid of everything that’s new to them or different. I’m really sorry this keeps happening, but you know good and well that they’re wrong and you aren’t. I’d really like you to reconsider sitting out the game. You picked our team. You chose to be an AAF Phoenix. That made us feel special. We’re proud to have you on our team. You not only belong on our team, as our center, your position is kind of a key part of my game-winning strategy against this team. I want everyone to see how important you are to our team, and I want you to have fun and not worry about what stupid people say to you.”

“You’re not thupposed to thay thtupid,” Quinn reminded Brent seriously.

“Man, listen to you. You really are a toothless wonder right now! It’s a good thing this is a basketball game and not bobbing for apples, because Carolina would have to carry you like a Judith Leiber clutch. Have you seen the grown-up chompers on that kid? Absolute dynamite. She could crush granite with those bad boys.”

Quinn snort-giggled, and Brent felt a wave of relief. At least he was getting something right today. “Wait, are you smiling right now? Yes? It’s hard to tell without any teeth.” Brent smiled back, it was impossible not to. “You know, as far as ‘stupid’ goes, like most bad words, there is a time and a place to use them. This, Quinn, this is the time and the place to use the word stupid—anyone who thinks you shouldn’t be on our team or play tonight is stupid. Now, are you going to play with us tonight?”

Quinn nodded.

“Well, go warm up, then. Try not to leave any teeth on the court. Yours or other people’s.”

Quinn trotted down the stairs and joined the rest of the team.