Chapter 59: Cashing In

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"Everyone," Nolan said near the edge of the field, voice carrying over the noise, "let me introduce the charity sale co-hosted by the Normans and Highlights."

Behind him, the signs and boards were finally in the right place.

"While we enjoy school, play sports, and live our lives, other teenagers are dealing with substance abuse, legal trouble, mental-health crises, broken homes, and even homelessness. I decided I should do something."

The people who had just watched Nolan make impossible plays saw another side of him.

"Fortunately, we have connected with California Youth Services, the Youth Assistance Coalition, and the California Youth Crisis Line. Tonight’s sale will help support that work."

Katherine handed him a hot dog.

Nolan took it and bit off half.

"For one loaded hot dog and one cup of Gatorade, you might help save a lost teenager’s future. Maybe even the next football genius."

The speech moved people.

Lisa was the first to step forward and buy. A second followed. Then a third.

"And of course," Nolan added, "I am happy to take photos and sign autographs for anyone who contributes."

"I already bought three hot dogs in the stands," one spectator said.

"Then why not buy one more?" Nolan said. "It tastes good. It is only a few dollars."

That became the rule.

Nolan took photos and signed only for people who bought directly from the charity station in front of him.

Plenty of people opened their wallets.

One middle-aged woman bought fifty hot dogs and fifty drinks by herself, then passed them out to the crowd.

"Nolan Callahan, I will always support you!" she shouted, plain-faced and almost feverish. "Always!"

A very small number of people already liked Nolan with a focus that bordered on obsession.

In less than an hour, the remaining stock sold out.

Lisa added a separate one-thousand-dollar donation. A few wealthier spectators and football parents donated extra amounts too: one hundred, fifty, twenty. It added up to around two thousand dollars when Lisa’s money was included.

During the sale, Nolan kept asking Mia for numbers.

In 1994 Los Angeles, a normal street hot dog often sold for fifty cents to a dollar fifty. Mia’s vendor sold loaded L.A. dirty-dog style hot dogs for two dollars on a normal night. Tonight, the charity price was four dollars, with extra charges for add-ons.

The vendor’s cost to Nolan was a dollar fifty each.

That left at least two dollars and fifty cents profit per hot dog.

Drinks were even better.

At stadiums, a twelve-ounce drink during a game often sold for three or four dollars. Tonight’s price was four. In a supermarket, a twelve-ounce can of soda was about fifty cents, and Mia’s grocery job let her buy bulk drinks cheaper than that. Even adding cups, the cost per drink stayed under sixty cents.

They had stocked close to two thousand servings of hot dogs and drinks. Roughly half sold during the game. Nolan’s postgame push cleared the rest.

The gross profit broke five figures before taxes, costs, and donations.

By return rate alone, it beat the Murphey channel.

Next time, Nolan would happily use both.

At the end, he announced an extra twenty-dollar stipend for each student who worked the event. California’s minimum wage was five dollars an hour, so the number made sense. The volunteers were thrilled and promised they would come again if he organized another sale.

Nolan took a group photo with them.

The sale was over for the night.

After the volunteers and vendor left, Nolan sent Katherine and Mia home first to count the money and organize the records. Then he headed back toward the locker room.

He had barely entered the player tunnel when someone appeared beside him.

"On the field, you stole the spotlight. Off the field, you made money." Lisa sounded delighted. "From every angle, tonight was perfect."

She had left earlier, but before going she had made sure he understood that she wanted to drive him home. That was why Nolan had sent Mia and Katherine ahead.

He had not expected Lisa to wait for him in the tunnel.

It was already ten-thirty. The passage was empty.

Lisa stepped closer first.

At the same time, Rice came out of the locker room and headed toward the field.

The players were still waiting for Nolan, but after an hour, Thomas had sent Rice to look for him.

Rice had not gone far when he saw Nolan pressed near the wall with a woman in black heels and a black dress. She was almost as tall as Nolan.

Who was that?

The game had barely ended, and some woman was already hooking up with a player.

Disgusting.

Rice called out from down the tunnel.

"Hey. What are you doing?"

He had hoped to scare them.

They did not panic, but both went still.

As Rice came closer, Nolan turned and blocked his view. Lisa moved quickly toward the field, using Nolan’s body and the poor light to avoid being recognized.

Rice stared after her.

"Who was that?" he asked on the walk back. "She looked familiar."

"A friend," Nolan said. "An older friend."

"Callahan, you have moves." Rice grinned, crude and impressed. The silhouette had been worth staring at. The tunnel was too dim for him to recognize her.

"What is it like with a woman that age?" he asked.

"You really want to hear?"

Nolan checked more than once.

Rice insisted.

So Nolan gave him enough detail to make his ears turn red.

It would be interesting to see his face when he learned who the woman was.

Back in the locker room, Principal Walsh followed the expected script. He congratulated the players, warned them not to get arrogant, and set the next target: the CIF Southern Section title.

The hardest gate had opened. The remaining teams did not look capable of matching Santa Ana.

Nolan was already thinking about the All-Star Game.

That was where the best high-school talent in the country would gather.

Thomas moved to practical matters.

"Also," he said, "Rice has returned to the team. For now, he will serve as Nolan’s backup."

That was a long way from Rice’s original plan, but Nolan’s performance left no room for complaint.

Nolan did not object.

He had uses for Rice.

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