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with the weights. “No problem. Besides, I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”
     
    “I'd say,” Coach Pete said. “I wish I had that physique when I was in high school.”
     
    Coach Williams laughed. “Heck, I'd take it now.”
     
    “Two thirty-eight, Tiny,” Coach Walker said.
     
    “Not bad.”
     
    “Why don't you drop to two twenty?” Coach Walker suggested, referring to the next weight class down.
     
    “Because heavyweights are the people who get remembered coach,” Antonio said as he hopped off the scale and began dressing again.  “No one talks about the greatest light heavyweight or flyweights do they.”
     
    “We need to get you a fat-comp test anyway. If you fall below seven percent we're going to make you hit the buffets.”
     
    Due to a rash of weight loss related deaths, the Florida High School Athletic Associated instituted a rule that if an athlete fell below seven percent body fat they would be disqualified for the year, no exceptions.
     
    “I won't let you down coach,” Antonio said as he put his shoes back on.
     
    “That's our Tiny,” Coach Williams said. “Mister dependable.”
     
    “Just dial back the workouts a little bit, will you?” Coach Walker implored. “We don't need you burning out during the season.”
    “Okay coach. I'll take it easier before the season starts, but I won't stop working out completely.”
     
    “There's a first,” Coach Pete chimed in, “telling a student not to work out. Boy Phil, I wish I had your problems.”
     
    Antonio laughed. “Okay Coach, Coach, and Coach, I'm going to go home and get in a light jog. Not too hard,” he said pointedly. “Too much sitting today. I don't want to use the track, watching the football team is depressing.”
     
    “See you Tiny,” Coach Walker said as he patted his athlete on the shoulder.
     
    Antonio made his way out of the office. “This season is going to be magical,” he heard Coach Walker say as the door closed.
     
    By the time Antonio made it to the student parking lot, his car was the only one that remained. The football players with cars already moved theirs up by the locker room under the stadium bleachers.
     
    As usual, his car was left alone, even though it was unlocked, with the keys in the ignition. Antonio opened the passenger side door and put his math book on the seat and then rolled down the window to let the Florida heat escape. He closed the heavy door and walked around the rear of his car. He opened the driver's side door and rolled down the window, it would take a few minutes to air out the classic car.
     
    Antonio stood with his hand on the window sill of the open car door and watched as the football team ran through drills. The coaches were too busy yelling and cursing to bother him about joining. “Nineteen players,” Tony said to himself as he counted those on the field, “they can't even scrimmage.”
     
    The sun was beating down, causing Antonio to sweat just by standing in the heat. He was about to get into the vehicle when something caught his eye. On the north end of the field, along the fence that separated the practice field from the playing field, a small figure walked swiftly with her head down.
     
    “What the,” Antonio said, but stopped himself before a euphemism could slip from his mouth.
     
    He watched Courtney make her way to the far side of the field. Tony knew there was an opening in the fence somewhere down there but it only led to a ditch. He had half a mind to run after her to see what was going on, but thought better of it. He trained his eye on the girl, as she took long strides causing her blue skirt to flare in her self-created breeze.
     
    Though it was hard to tell, the small girl found her way outside of the fence and in a few seconds disappeared into the ditch. Antonio watched in confusion. “Why in the world?” he asked himself but didn't finish the question. “What? Is she homeless?””
     
    He saw the small figure reappear on the