Coach Kinen held out a chair for Danny’s mom. She took it. Danny sat between her and Coach Kinen. Across from them were Ms. Rait and Mr. Crenshaw. Mr. Trufant was at the head of the table, and he cleared his throat.

“So,” he said. “We have a situation, and I’d like to work it out without too much of a fuss, but—in the best interests of Danny and our other students—we do need to get things straight. Ms. Rait, Danny has struggled with English, and the teachers before now have understood and made accommodations. I don’t want to simply pull some kind of power play when a nice discussion could set things straight. Am I being clear enough here?”

Ms. Rait sat with her hands folded in her lap. Her dark eyes seem to shine. “Danny can’t read.”

“Now, wait a minute . . .” Mr. Crenshaw looked at her in disbelief. “Martha, we talked about this.”

Ms. Rait held up a hand to silence him and she looked around the table. “Everyone’s talked to me about this. ‘Push him through English.’ ‘Don’t make waves.’ ‘Danny’s special. He could make it to the big time.’ Well, I’m a reading teacher, and I want to teach him to read.”

Coach Kinen pointed a finger at Mr. Crenshaw. “You said she was on board.”

“She was.” Mr. Crenshaw glanced at Ms. Rait. “She is.”

“No,” Ms. Rait said with a bitter smile. “I’m not. Not like that. What I will do is work with him.”

They all sat in the stunned silence before Ms. Rait addressed Coach Kinen. “I’ll work hard, and Danny will have to work hard, but if we work together, I think he can pass the first marking period so he can play in your precious championship game.”

“And what if he doesn’t pass?” Coach Kinen asked with a snarl. “You have no idea what’s at stake for this young man. The county title is the game the varsity coaches will see. The big game could put him on a track that ends with him maybe even being a first-round draft pick. That’s what he wants, and his momma, too.”

She shrugged. “If he doesn’t pass, he gets an F. After that, it’s up to you all. I could care less if you want to make an exception that allows him to play football. Those aren’t my rules. My rules are: a student has to meet minimum requirements for me to give a passing grade. Anything less and I wouldn’t be doing my job, and I promise you that just won’t happen.”

“Have you thought about having a job?” Mr. Trufant’s face had gone from red to redder as she spoke. “You don’t even have tenure, young lady.”

Ms. Rait set her jaw and narrowed her eyes at the principal. “I was a unanimous selection by this school board, and unfortunately for me, I am also protected by the Americans with Disabilities Act. With all due respect, you don’t want to fight that fight with me, sir.”

Mr. Trufant’s entire bald head had turned purple now, but he wasn’t finished. He pushed his steel-rimmed glasses up on his nose and then patted a folder on the table in front of him before removing a sheet of paper with some official-looking writing on it. He took out a pen and signed it before pushing it toward Danny’s mom along with his fancy pen.

When Mr. Trufant looked up, Danny could see the strain in his face. “I somehow anticipated you might prove to be a problem, Ms. Rait. Fortunately, I know how to work around problems. Mrs. Owens, this is a class transfer form. You just sign it alongside my signature and we can end this charade.”

Danny’s mom blinked and picked up the pen, which was nearly as thick as her index finger.

“Mrs. Owens, do not sign that paper. I will teach him to read.” Ms. Rait looked like a woman possessed. She thumped her fist on the tabletop, and she spoke in a low, authoritative voice. “If you sign that, you’re signing Danny’s whole life away.”

Danny’s mom looked over at him and he silently begged her to sign.