Summary: Alaska Porter has been through a lot. A black father who loved her until he had "full blooded" children and who named her because of the color of her skin. A white mother who could barely cope with the ridicule of her because of her black family. But worst of all her bastard football playing ex-boyfriend. First Love. First Kiss. First Boy friend. First...well you know. First heartbreak...or was that the second...or third...ah it doesn't matter. He got her pregnant then left her because of it. It's funny how the worst person she's ever known gave her the biggest and best part of her heart... her daughter. Living her life with her super intelligent daughter and dealing with a mother who "remarried and repopulated her life with people that she could be 'proud' of", being a Principal,a Coach, a mother, a mentor and anything else anyone wants her to be is her normal. That is her life. She would be anything except for the girlfriend or wife of an athlete which is exactly what Terry McDowell wanted her to be. Her life was "normal" until he came barging in demanding some of the open territory of her heart. Terry is your typical All-American white boy on the outside but in reality his life has been just as crazy as her's. With a black step father and a white mother and his three black step-siblings, three white half-siblings, and one mixed half sister between them, he can't help but be a little off-white.

Alaska Porter excitedly left the Raleigh High School Gym, anticipation for the up coming season rushing through her veins. She felt great about the upcoming basketball season and everyone who would participate. All of the girls had worked hard at the first practice and it was obvious that they had all been working hard at home over their two week break. Each year all of the athletes in the state of North Dakota were granted a two week break between summer and the start of the year. Her girls' performance today had managed to transcend her expectations making her feel as though her job this year would require very little work and produce maximum benefits, which said a lot. Being able to make any job Alaska Porter did seem sinecure was an almost unattainable feat. She was very pleased that she did not have to demonstrate her immutable and---some say--- formidable authority in today's practice. But her happiness was short lived.

As she turned from locking the gym door she ran smack dab into Jim Rushmore. AKA: the very last person on the entire face of the earth she wanted to see at this particular moment, or any moment really. Seeing Jim Rushmore, the Boys basketball head coach and world class creep, always seemed to spoil her mood. His hackneyed attempts at flirtation with everything over 18 and in skirt were well known.

"Well, hello Ally. Fancy meeting you here." he said, using that very creepy tone that always managed to sound so disconcerting. That tone always had her searching for a way to end the conversation before she said something off the cuff and derogatory that she couldn't honestly apologize for.

"You knew exactly where I'd be Mr. Rushmore." She coolly replied as she looked up and down the hall for any sign of human life while pretending to relax her tense neck muscles.

"Tough practice?" he crooned breathily to her as he stepped dangerously close.

"Nothing out of the ordinary." She stated simply, taking a step back, attempting to moderate the situation. "Nothing my black belt, extensive weight lifting, and if it came down to it, my taller, stronger, EX-CON older brother can't handle." The information she was offering was quite inconsequential but, she was attempting to rebuke him when she'd rather castrate him. It was also a friendly forewarning she was offering because she'd hate to have to bring her ex- con brother into this. Although, she didn't know if accidentally leaving the store while wearing an unpaid for jacket, when you were twelve, to chase down your insurgent little sister, actually qualifies you to be an ex-con. But that is neither here nor there.

As he continued to step closer, violating more and more of her personal space and really working on her now very tenuous last nerve, neither realized that someone was watching them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Terry McDowell strode into a side door leading from the office to the gym. This is where the school's vivacious secretary had said he would find Ms. Porter, the school's principal. He had a meeting with her to discuss his little sister Brieyonna, who would be starting here next week. As he came fully into the building, he ground to a halt as he laid eyes on the most heavenly creature he had ever seen. The most heavenly creature? Come on man get a grip. Snap out of it. Man up. But he had to admit that the woman was striking, so much so that in the light shining through the slowly closing door, she almost looked ethereal.

She looked to be about 6'0, tall for a woman, with light brown, shoulder blade length, wavy hair. From the looks of her hair, skin tone, and some of her facial features she was mixed with African American and something else. And that body, baaaaby! She was curvy yet very toned, not muscular, yet strong.

Terry surveyed the scene before him, watching as a 40 something year old male gigolo tried to wheedle his way into the beautiful woman's pants. A scene that for some reason pissed him off. He was watching for signs of struggle or just a look of disgust, and/or repulsion. Either of the two would have been his first reaction. The man was blazon, he had balls. The more he watched the more it was starting to piss him off,' Terry had the sudden urge to make sure the man endured a slow and painful death for touching his woman. Your woman? Whoa! Slow down buddy. Where did that come from? Ignoring himself, which sounded like a totally insane thing to do, he imagined of all the grandiose things he could do to save her, then decided to keep it simple.

He walked pass them as noisily as possible, then turn around and exclaimed, "There you are! I have been looking all over for you!"

Both people on the wall turned and observed him curiously, Ally with a look of more shock than anything. As the man was looking him up and down, Terry made eye contact with her and winked. It took her a minute---to catch on and to dispel the butterflies that were apparently cage fighting inside her stomach---and then she finally caught on.

"Do you Know---" The gigolo began before she cut him of.

"Oh! Honey I'm so sorry! I completely forgot about our date!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Why on earth was she going along with this? She knew why, because he was Terry McDowell. The Terry McDowell! The Terry McDowell that, until this moment, had been just a nominal figure to her was standing right in front of her, pretending to be her boyfriend. She had been a die hard fan of the North Dakota Santanas since before she could walk and plus she would do any thing to get away from the greasy haired fungus fetcher who had finally peeled his eyes away from her chest to eye the man in front of them.

He sauntered over and pulled her away from the other man and into his arms as he kissed her cheek. He stuck out his hand in greeting to the man whose eyes that were first filled with guilt now turned cold.

"Terry McDowell. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"James Rushmore." He said dismissively, and then turned to Ally "Look I gotta run. I've got a million papers to grade. So I'll see you around."

They watched him beat a hasty retreat, Ally still tucked tight against Terry's side. Once he was gone, Ally looked up into the most mesmerizing blue eyes she had ever seen. When Terry McDowell walked into a room his presence demanded attention, and oh how he had her attention. All 6'5 inches of his hard sculpted chest, solid biceps, broad shoulders, and tapered waste had her attention. Then she snapped out of it, remembering that he was one of the wild, seditious, bad boys of the NBA. She stepped away from him feeling way too much electricity for her liking.

"Before you say anything, I just wanted to say that this was a…a…an accidental favor of sorts. I had no intentions of coming into the school and diluting a sticky situation---no pun intended. By the way my name is---"

"I know who you are, Mr. McDowell.", She interrupted, "What kind of basketball coach would I be if I didn't know who you were?"

"A very beautiful one. Have dinner with me?"

To be continued…..