The Hail Mary

15 Years Ago...

Thirteen-year-old Aaron Parker grunted as he marched out of his English Literature class, his backpack slung over one shoulder. The second the bell rang, he was out the door, eager to escape the confines of Juniper Ridge Middle School. It had been two weeks since he started at his new school, and he hated it.

Moving to Los Angeles from New York had been a culture shock, to say the least. Everything felt too bright, too loud, and too different. But what made it worse—what made it unbearable—was being away from his dad.

Back in New York, his parents had been arguing constantly. Loud, heated arguments that always seemed to erupt out of nowhere. One night, they couldn’t stand the sight of each other; the next, they were laughing and holding hands like nothing had happened. For years, Aaron had learned to tune it out, figuring it was just how they were. That’s why, when his mom sat him and his sister Gabriella down to say they were getting a divorce, he didn’t believe it. They’d always made up before—why wouldn’t they this time?

But they didn’t.

Instead, his mom packed up their lives and moved them back to LA to live with Abuela. Aaron didn’t understand why he had to go. His dad was his best friend, his anchor. He wanted to stay with him, but his mom hadn’t given him a choice.

Now, Aaron woke up every morning painfully aware of his dad’s absence. Back in New York, even if his dad worked long hours, Aaron still got to see him—mornings over a rushed breakfast, sometimes late at night when his dad came home tired but smiling, and occasionally on weekends if they got lucky. But here in LA, it hit Aaron just how much his dad had been working to keep everything together. And how much he missed him.

Aaron scrubbed a hand over his face as he scurried down the crowded hallway, keeping his head low. Adjusting to a new school halfway through the year was a nightmare. Everyone already had their cliques, their routines, and their inside jokes. His friends were 3,000 miles away, and he felt like a stranger in this sun-soaked city.

He wasn’t much of a talker, especially around people he didn’t know. That made being the new kid even harder. It was exhausting, trying to figure out where he fit, and most days, he didn’t even bother.

The only thing keeping him going was the promise of football tryouts next week. His mom had sworn she’d keep him in the game and stick to his usual schedule, and he clung to that promise like a lifeline. Football was everything. It was the one thing that felt constant, the one place where he knew who he was.

His dream was to be a quarterback for the New York Giants—just like he and his dad had always talked about. Moving to LA felt like a death sentence to that dream, but he refused to let it go. He couldn’t.

As he made his way down the hallway, Aaron steeled himself. He’d figure it out, just like he always did. But deep down, he couldn’t stop wishing his dad was here, cheering him on the way he used to, reminding him he could do anything. Because without him, the dream felt a little lonelier. A little harder to hold onto.

Aaron pulled his backpack closer, adjusting the straps as he tried to remember the way back to the library. His mom had made him promise to keep his grades up if he wanted to stay in football, and breaking that promise wasn’t an option. Football was the only thing grounding him right now.

Turning the corner, he found himself in a longer, quieter hallway. Further down, a girl sat on a bench, her head bowed over a comic book. Her curly hair was slicked back into a neat low bun, and she seemed completely lost in her own world. For a moment, Aaron envied that—the ability to disappear into something, to escape the reality of being the new kid in a school that felt like it didn’t want him.

He glanced back toward his path, his focus shifting to the hallway ahead, when suddenly, he was shoved violently from behind. The force sent him sprawling to the ground, his shin scraping hard against the tiled floor as his ankle twisted painfully beneath him. A sharp groan escaped his lips as he pushed himself halfway up, his hands trembling slightly from the impact.

Looking up, he found two boys standing over him, their expressions a mixture of disdain and smug satisfaction. Alan and Cody—two of the ringleaders in the unofficial campaign to make his life hell. It was just his luck that they’d decided today was another opportunity to remind him he didn’t belong.

Aaron’s fists clenched, his jaw tightening as anger surged through him. He itched to fight back, to give them a reason to regret messing with him. After all, he could—he was a black belt, trained to defend himself. But he’d made a promise to his mom and Abuela after breaking a bully’s nose back at his old school: no more fights.

He hated bullies.

Still, the frustration burned under his skin. What’s the point of being a black belt if you’re not allowed to use it?

“Going somewhere, newbie?” Alan sneered, his chubby face twisting with mockery as he stepped closer.

Before Aaron could respond, Cody added insult to injury with a swift kick to Aaron’s bruised shin. Pain flared, radiating up his leg, and he sucked in a sharp breath, his vision blurring momentarily from the sting.

The laughter between them was cut short by a voice—calm, clear, and sharp enough to slice through the tension.

“Hey! What’s your problem?”

All three boys froze, turning toward the girl from the bench. She had stood up now, her comic book abandoned, her arms crossed over her chest as she fixed Alan and Cody with a glare that could melt steel. The fire in her eyes was a startling contrast to her small frame, and for a moment, Aaron forgot about the pain in his leg.

She wasn’t just defending him—she looked like she was ready to take both boys on herself. Alan, ignoring the girl entirely, delivered a sharp kick to Aaron’s ankle. Pain flared through him, white-hot and searing, as his anger surged to a boiling point.

“Hey—leave him alone!” the girl called out, stepping boldly between Aaron and the two boys towering over him.

“Stay out of it, pipsqueak,” Alan snarled, narrowing his eyes at her.

Cody, his friend, stepped forward, getting right in her face. “Get out of the way, Shayla.”

“No!” she shot back, voice firm despite the fear bubbling inside. “Stop picking on him just because he’s new.”

Alan pulled his fist back as if to strike her. Shayla instinctively raised her arms to shield her face, bracing for the impact. Aaron tried to get up, desperate to help, but a sharp pain shot through his ankle, leaving him wincing and unable to stand.

Just then, Cody grabbed Alan’s arm, panic flashing across his face. “Dude, that’s Shamar’s little sister. Just let it go—it’s not worth it.”

Alan shot Shayla a venomous glare as he walked past her. His eyes dropped to Aaron, who was still holding his bleeding shin. “Count yourself lucky. Next time, a girl isn’t going to save you.”

Shayla watched them walk away, her heart racing. She turned back to the boy on the floor, he was nowhere near small enough to be totally defenseless, she thought. She reminded herself that she needed to stay out of other people’s business, but she couldn’t help it—she hated bullies, and the new kid had been at school for two weeks, he looked a little lost—and a little lonely.

She understood that feeling all too well. Sighing, she reached down to help him, but he shrugged her off.

“I don’t need help from a girl,” he mumbled, his pride clearly bruised.

Shayla rolled her eyes. He sounded just like her brother, Shamar. “Tough luck. I’m all you’ve got right now.”

“Just leave me alone,” Aaron muttered, wincing as he tried to avoid looking at her.

“You’re bleeding,” Shayla pointed out gently, a hint of concern in her voice.

Aaron shot her a glare. “So?”

Shayla sighed, crossing her arms as if she’d heard it all before. “Being the new kid sucks. I was the new kid once, but at least I had my brother. It’s harder when you don’t have someone to look out for you.”

“I don’t need anyone to look out for me,” Aaron said, shaking his head stubbornly.

She smiled, and something about that smile made Aaron’s stomach flip. He looked away, scowling, refusing to let her see he was even slightly thrown.

“Fine, I’ll leave you alone. But at least let me help you up,” she offered, her tone light, but her eyes glinting with a bit of mischief.

“Fine,” he grumbled, not entirely convinced.

Shayla crouched beside him, taking his hand and carefully hooking her arm around his waist. He let her help him to his feet. “Alright, let’s get you to the nurse.

“Wait, what?! You said nothing about a nurse. I don’t need the nurse!” Aaron spluttered, panic edging his voice.

Shayla rolled her eyes, holding him steady as they started down the hallway. “Sorry, dude. School rules: if you bleed, you go see Nurse Dee.”

Aaron sighed heavily, feeling trapped, but he finally resigned himself, muttering, “This sucks.”

She chuckled, keeping a steady pace beside him. “Tell me about it! By the way, no offense but you smell like muddy grass.”

He couldn’t help it—a laugh slipped out before he could stop himself. There was something about her, her easy confidence, that made him feel a little less... miserable. As they hobbled along, secretly, he was grateful for her help.

“I’m Shayla, by the way.”

“Aaron,” he said, glancing over with a hint of a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Aaron.” She gave him a warm look that somehow made the whole day feel a little brighter.

He nodded, feeling strangely shy. He didn’t really know what to say—truthfully, he didn’t want to admit how relieved he felt. He hadn’t wanted to be here, or anywhere, really, but suddenly, it wasn’t so bad.

By the time Monday rolled around, Aaron’s ankle and shin had healed, but his attitude toward his new school hadn’t. He hated it. L.A. might be a big city, but it wasn’t New York. In New York, people knew how to mind their own business. Here, all anyone did was pry—asking nosy questions about his family, what they did, how much money they had, and why he’d moved. And if he told them to back off, suddenly he was the problem. Nothing about this place felt like home.

At lunch, he sat alone, frustrated at both wanting and hating his own loneliness. He thought about his sister, Gabriella, who went to a different school; he never expected to miss her this much. And he missed his friends back in New York. For a second, he thought about running away, but football tryouts were tomorrow, and he wanted nothing more than to be back on a team.

“Hey, Aaron! Can I sit with you?”

He looked up and saw the girl from Friday—Shayla. She was cute, but she seemed annoyingly persistent.

“Don’t you have any friends to sit with?” he asked, a little more sharply than he intended.

Shayla’s smile faltered, and for a moment, he felt guilty. She’d been the only nice person he’d met since he arrived, and here he was, brushing her off.

Never be rude when someone is being kind to you, hijo! His mom’s voice nagged at him in his head.

“I’m… sorry,” he mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes.

Shayla shrugged, her easy smile returning. “It’s okay. I don’t really have any friends here, either.”

Her honesty surprised him, and he found himself a little curious.

“You don’t? But your brother’s super popular,” Aaron said, surprised.

“Yeah, but people mostly ignore me,” Shayla replied with a shrug.

“Oh...” Aaron shifted, unsure what to say.

“Anyway, sorry to bother you. Hope your ankle’s okay,” she murmured and started to turn away.

“Wait!” he called out.

“Yeah?” Shayla looked back, a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

He scooted over and motioned to the spot beside him. “Sit with me.”

She grinned but didn’t move. “What’s the magic word?”

Aaron blinked at her like she’d just sprouted horns. “Are you serious?”

She started to turn again, and Aaron groaned. “Okay, okay! Please?”

“Yay!” She squealed, plopping down next to him with a bright smile.

Aaron rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the hint of a grin. Shayla noticed and took it as a win.

“You know you’re super annoying, right?” he said, chuckling.

She giggled and shrugged. “Well, since we’re friends now—suck it up, buttercup.”

Without a second thought, she split her sandwich, handing him half. Aaron blinked at the unexpected gesture.

“Why’d you give me this?” he asked, confused.

She shrugged as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Doesn’t look like you like yours. Mine’s PB&J. Yours is, what, egg mayo?”

Aaron scrunched his nose, and Shayla laughed. He took a bite of the PB&J, and for the first time all day, he felt just a little bit more at home.

“Thanks. My abuela always makes it, and I feel bad telling her I don’t like it.” He wasn’t sure why he’d been so honest with her, but somehow it was easy to talk to Shayla.

“I get it,” Shayla nodded. “My dad makes spinach omelets sometimes. I hate it, but it was my mom’s favorite. He started making it a lot after she died.”

Aaron glanced at her, feeling a sudden pang of empathy. “I’m sorry about your mom.”

She shrugged, a bit sadly. “It’s okay...”

Seeing her sad made him feel uncomfortable, especially now that they were, apparently, friends. Without thinking, he pulled a face he usually made to get a laugh out of his Abuela, crossing his eyes and puffing his cheeks.

Shayla’s expression brightened as she cracked a smile, and then laughed. “You’re weird,” she said, grinning. “But that’s perfect since I’m weird too.”

Aaron chuckled, taking another bite of the PB&J. He still wasn’t thrilled about being in LA, but at least he had a friend now. With Shayla by his side, maybe—just maybe—it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Present Day...

Shayla took a deep breath, steadying herself as she waited at the arrivals gate at LAX. Any moment now, Aaron would walk through those doors, and the thrill of seeing him again coursed through her, a mix of excitement and nerves that left her hands a little shaky. His mom—Luisa, his dad—Joe, his Abuela—Maria, her brother, Shamar—his fiancé, Monica, and her dad—Reggie all waited in anticipation, their eyes fixed on the gate. His sister, Gabriella would join them later.

But none of them were as eager as she was.

Her fingers toyed anxiously with the ends of her braids as her gaze searched the crowd for a glimpse of him—the 6′4", olive-skinned, green-eyed quarterback who, against all odds, was somehow her best friend. It had been over six months since they’d last seen each other, and every day apart had only made her realize how much he meant to her. He was finally back in LA after spending a year in New York, loaned out to the Giants as a quarterback.

In a way, she couldn’t believe what he’d accomplished. After a decent rookie season, and narrowly losing the QB contest that year, he was benched as a second-string QB. She’d seen how much it had shaken him. Watching him struggle back then had been painful, knowing he was carrying the weight of self-doubt. And then, when he was traded to New York, she’d watched him wrestle with the move, feeling like he’d been cast aside. She’d tried to be there, as much as distance and time zones allowed, but some nights had left her feeling helpless.

But something had shifted in Aaron when he was in New York. When the Giants’ starting QB suffered an injury in a practice, Aaron stepped up and took charge. It was like watching him transform right before her eyes. She’d seen him lead the team to the Super Bowl, and with that unforgettable Hail Mary, he’d easily cemented their victory. It was a moment she’d never forget, watching him make the comeback of a lifetime. The whole family—both his and hers—had flown out to Atlanta for the big game. She’d screamed herself hoarse, her heart racing with every pass he made. The excitement, the energy—it had been electrifying.

But duty called, and Shayla had to leave right after the game for a flight booked by her boss. All she’d been able to do was send Aaron a video message of congratulations, hoping he’d understand. The next day, they FaceTimed for hours, catching up and savoring the moment, even if it was through a screen. She made sure to tell him how proud she was, and how happy his success made her.

As a sports publicist, she’d always kept her relationship with Aaron under wraps. It wasn’t something she flaunted; the last thing she wanted was special treatment because her best friend was the country’s top quarterback. Being one of the few women on the senior team—and the only Black woman—was already challenging. Special treatment had a way of undercutting the respect she’d worked so hard to earn, and she’d learned the hard way that she’d rather let her work speak for itself.

Now, though, with the LA Kings under new ownership, Shayla felt a renewed sense of hope for Aaron’s career. Michael Lane, CEO of Lane Corp, had made waves by purchasing the team in what was Lane Corp’s first major venture into the sports world. Everyone had expected Lane, a New York native, to buy a team closer to home, but he’d surprised them all by setting his sights on LA. More importantly, he’d made it clear that the Kings’ future would be built around one central figure.

Aaron Alejandro Parker.

As she thought about what that meant, her pulse quickened. She couldn’t wait to see him back with the Kings, leading the team with the skill and heart she knew so well. But at the same time, she felt a tension she couldn’t shake—a pull that wasn’t just about pride or friendship. As she stood there, waiting for him to appear, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, the time apart had made her braver. Maybe, just maybe she would face her truth and finally be honest with Aaron about her feelings.

The truth was, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. She wasn’t that brave, and even if she were, Shayla was certain Aaron’s supermodel girlfriend, Nicole Drew, would have something snarky—and cutting—to say, dripping with that practiced elegance she always wielded like a weapon.

“There he is! Hijo, por aquí!” Luisa called out, her petite frame breaking free from her husband’s embrace as she dashed toward her son.