“Not a thing. Matter of fact, I like it. It’s just that we were going to have a pretty hard time looking anonymous anyway, and that hat makes it even harder.”

She saw his point. “Maybe this outing wasn’t such a good idea.”

“It’s a great idea. Now the press won’t know what to think about us. I personally like the idea of thumbing our noses at all of them.”

In front of them Molly tugged sharply on Pooh’s leash and came to a sudden stop. “I want to go.”

“We just got here,” Phoebe pointed out

“I don’t care. I told you I didn’t want to come.”

Phoebe noticed Molly glancing toward a group of teenage girls sitting on the grassy slope just ahead. “Are those girls friends of yours?”

“They’re bitches. They’re all Pom Poms and they think they’re better than everybody else. I hate them.”

“All the more reason to hold up your head.” Dan slipped off his sunglasses and studied the group for a moment. “Come on, Miz Molly. Let’s show ’em what you’re made of.” He took Pooh’s leash and passed it over. “Phoebe, hold on to your little rat. Miz Molly and me have a job to do.”

Phoebe was too worried about Molly to take Dan to task for calling Pooh a rat. She watched as he drew her sister toward the girls. It was obvious she didn’t want to go any closer, but Dan wouldn’t release her. Only when he pulled off his cap did she see what he was up to. Next to Bobby Tom and Jim Biederot, his was the most recognizable face in DuPage County, and he obviously intended to let Molly use him to impress the girls from her school.

But as Phoebe walked up the slope to get closer to the girls, she saw that Mr. Big Shot had overestimated himself. While males might recognize him, these teenage girls were definitely not football fans.

“Your daddy wouldn’t happen to be Tim Reynolds, the realtor, would he?” she heard Dan ask a gum-chewing nymphet with long hair and mall bangs.

“Nuh-uh,” the girl replied, more interested in the contents of her purse than exchanging pleasantries with the terror of the gridiron.

“Nice try,” Phoebe murmured under her breath as she pulled up behind him. And then, more loudly, “Hi, girls. I’m Molly’s sister.”

The girls looked from Phoebe to Molly. “I thought she was your mother,” an overly made-up redhead said.

Dan snickered.

Ignoring him, she searched her mind for a topic of conversation while Molly stared miserably at her feet. “How’s school going so far this year?”

“Okay,” one of them mumbled. Another slipped the headset to her Walkman over her ears. The girls ignored Molly to scan the crowd for more worthy peers.

Phoebe tried again. “Molly said most of the teachers are nice.”

“Yeah.”