“My English isn’t good enough to tutor children?” Aleksandr asked, shifting the Jeep into park and sliding out of his seat.

“It’s not supposed to be,” I reminded him as he opened the door for me. “Numbers are numbers. I’m not good at math.”

“Not good at elementary school math?” He raised his eyebrows, taking a puff of his clove.

“Dude, stomp the cigarette. We’re supposed to be good influences, remember?” I nuzzled my face in his neck, inhaling deeply to get a good whiff of him as he mashed his cigarette into the sidewalk with one of his black-and-white checkered Vans.

One of Aleksandr’s unwritten off-ice duties as a Pilots player was to participate in community-service projects in the area. Since he’d been in Detroit for only two months, he hadn’t found a specific charity he wanted to get behind yet. So I invited him to join me.

“Hey, guys!” I called to the dozen or so kids seated in folding chairs at a long table. My heart melted when their eyes brightened and their lips curled into smiles upon seeing me. All of them started speaking at once; yelling hello, calling my name, talking a mile a minute about whatever it was they had on their mind. It was the best greeting ever, but I put my finger to my lips. “Shh. I just wanted to say hi.”

“Sorry, I got them all riled up, Case.” I pulled Casey Johnson into a hug, before taking a step back. “I brought our first celebrity volunteer. Aleksandr Varenkov, from the Detroit Pilots.”

“First celebrity? What about me?” Casey’s lips spread into a large smile, revealing bright but slightly crooked teeth. Upon first glance, the former Central State football player’s six-foot-five, 245-pound frame and bald head looked intimidating, but his smile was effortless and genuine. Watching him interact with the kids reinforced my decision in recruiting the gentle giant to run the Detroit program while I finished my degree at Central State.

“That’s right. I forgot,” I said, snapping my fingers. Casey just rolled his eyes.

“Thanks for coming, man. It’s great to meet you.” Casey shook Aleksandr’s hand. “I’m sure Auden told you all about the program.”

“No. The only thing she tells me is I cannot teach English to these kids,” Aleksandr said in his fake broken English.

“Well, I guess she has a good point.” Casey laughed, deep and loud. “What we do here is provide year-round, free activities for children who can’t afford to pay for programs in the community. We have volunteers to tutor, to play, or just to talk with them. We try to make the environment fun. We want the kids to enjoy coming here, so they stick with it and don’t turn to the streets. During the school year, it’s homework first, and they know that, so don’t let them sweet-talk you into going into the gym and shooting balls around until they’re finished. Right, Jessie?”

“I’m working, Casey. I’m working.” Jessie, a nine-year-old boy who’d been part of the program since we’d started it, held up a halfway-completed math worksheet as proof.

Casey winked at Aleksandr. “They’re all good kids. Some of them come from messed-up situations. Unfathomable situations. A few of them eat breakfast and dinner here. It’s something we didn’t offer at first until we saw a need for it. There were kids who were eating one meal a day, the lunch they got at school, because their parents aren’t around.”

Aleksandr’s face went from amused interest to concern and sadness within seconds. Though I knew the situations of most of the kids who utilized the club, every time Casey or I told someone new, it upset me all over. I couldn’t imagine not knowing when I would eat next. I couldn’t imagine my grandparents not coming home for days on end. I couldn’t imagine going to school through it, laughing through it, and playing through it.

The kids attending the Central Club amazed me with their resilience and tenacity in the midst of their everyday struggles. It was a good feeling knowing that the club gave them a place they could get help with homework, have fun, and be safe. And, judging by the record number of people who’d signed up to volunteer, these kids finally had people who cared.

Aleksandr and I took seats across from each other, in the middle of the table where the kids were working on homework. Within seconds, we were both bombarded. Aleksandr might have gotten more attention than I did because he was fresh meat. The kids loved to show off for new people. All at once, boys and girls came up to us, shoving drawings, math problems, and stories in front of us.

Sean, one of my favorite little boys, climbed into my lap and put his arms around my neck, giving me a tight squeeze. I smiled and hugged him back.

“I’m glad you’re here, Miss Auden,” he told me. “I missed you a lot.”

Come on, how could anyone not melt from that?

After Aleksandr and I helped with homework, we walked into the gym that was attached to the church. For over an hour, we played every game imaginable, from basketball, dodgeball, and kickball to jump rope and hand-clapping songs. It was past noon when we said our goodbyes to the kids and to Casey.

“How did you get involved in this?” Aleksandr asked. He stopped to light a cigarette before he got into the Jeep.

“I did a study about after-school activities for kids in my community for one of my first classes. The findings gave me the idea to start the Central Club. The attention and positive reinforcement they get here is something some of them may never have at home.”

“Wait. You started this group?” he asked.

I nodded.

“How did you pay for the building and all the equipment?” Aleksandr asked.

“I applied for a grant. I did fundraisers. It was an insane time, especially with soccer and all my other classes,” I said, shaking my head in remembrance of how stressed and stretched I’d been. “But I wouldn’t change a thing. I learned so much, and since I’ve done everything as part of my major, it’s been really beneficial. My advisor said I probably won’t have to take my capstone class next year. All the work I’ve done on this program would take its place.”

“That’s awesome, Audushka.” Aleksandr squeezed my hand. “I can tell you love those kids.”

“I do. I mean, I can relate to them in a way. I see what could have been if I didn’t have a family that cared about me. They need to know there are people who care. There are people who want to help, want to see them succeed. Maybe if they see that now, they’ll make good decisions in the future,” I answered, blinking a few times to stop the tears. They weren’t angry tears. They were fighting tears. I needed to fight for those kids.

“You are amazing,” Aleksandr told me. “You are an amazing person.”

“I’m not amazing.” I shook my head. “I’m a human being who doesn’t want to see more kids messed up because they were born into a situation that was out of their control.”

“Back to my amazing-girl comment. When we go to service projects in the community, some of the guys on the team complain. They don’t see how helpful even a few hours can be to someone.”

“That’s sad. Those kids help me just as much as I help them.”

“Can I invite some of the guys to come with me next time? Landon would love it.”

“Of course.”

“Want to come over and nap with me today?” Aleksandr asked, squeezing my knee. My body tingled, a reflexive response to his touch.

“You probably need to learn the English words for nap and bed. As your tutor, I don’t really have a choice.” I winked though I knew I should say no, because he needed to rest and mentally prepare for the game.

“No, you don’t. I need you.”

How do you say no when someone says they need you?

“Of course, I’ll come over,” I said, because deep down, as much as I’d tried to deny it, there was one specific reason I wanted to join him for a nap.

I loved him.

And it scared the hell out of me.