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  “You’ll see. Calm down.” She stopped the car and got out.

  Cory looked back at Marvin, who said, “It’ll be okay, Cory. Trust your mom.”

  “Come on.” She sounded like she was coaxing a dog into the pound, but he couldn’t help following. He wished he’d never left the safety of Mr. Muiller.

  In they went and up the elevator. When they stepped off, Cory met the evil stare of Liam’s mom. She smelled like wet cigarette smoke. Her face was puffy, and her eyes were red and moist.

  She turned her glare on Cory’s mom and muttered, “Witch.”

  Cory could see his mom was flustered, but she marched past Liam and Finn’s mom with her head held high and addressed the woman officer sitting at the desk. “Please tell Officer Blankenship that the Marcos are here.”

  Liam’s mom began to cough and hack. Cory didn’t know if it was a response to his last name or just too much smoking.

  Cory and Marvin and his mom waited just a few minutes, standing by the desk in the hate-filled silence before Officer Blankenship appeared and hustled them inside.

  “Sorry about that,” the tall cop said as he showed them through the open office area along a wall of doors. “It’s been a busy morning.”

  They passed the interview room Cory had been in. The door was slightly open and Officer Blankenship quickly pulled it shut.

  As it closed, Cory’s eyes soaked in the scene. Inside, sitting with his back to the door, Cory recognized the short hair and thick shoulders of Officer Wells. Across the table in his wheelchair sat Liam, puffy-faced like his mom, tears streaming down his cheeks. His best friend was sobbing.

  Cory stopped and his mouth dropped. The snap of the lock echoed in Cory’s brain. Sickened, he blinked and grabbed his mother’s arm. “Wait, that’s Liam.”

  “Come on, Cory,” Cory’s mom insisted.

  Cory trailed after her in a daze. Blankenship led them through the open space filled with desks and file cabinets into what looked like his private office, with a window behind a desk with several chairs. “Sit down and I’ll be right back.”

  Cory sat, bewildered, and stared at his mom.

  She beamed at him with pride. “I knew you didn’t do it, Cory.”

  Cory looked at Marvin, who said, “Your mom remembered you telling her the security code in front of Liam and, man, she just went to work.”

  Cory’s mom took an excited breath. “Did you know—of course you didn’t—but they caught the Hogan kid on Wednesday and he spilled his guts. Told the police Finn had the four-four-four-four code. Finn also had a gun. I don’t understand it, but that makes the whole thing a Class A violent felony, Cory. Those boys are going to jail. If you’d been a part of it—and even just giving them the code makes you part of it—you could have been sent to Hillbrook, and I was not going to let that happen. Especially because I knew it had to be Liam who told Finn.

  “Remember at the barbecue? Mr. Muiller said the code right in front of Liam. I told the police that. I told them it wasn’t you, it was Liam.”

  Cory’s mind and insides were churning. “So why did you bring me here?”

  “You’ll see,” his mom said.

  Just then, the door opened and in walked Officer Wells along with Officer Blankenship.

  88

  Wells looked as mean and hard as ever. He glanced at Cory’s mom, who frowned and tilted her head at Cory.

  When Wells spoke, his voice had lost its edge. He sounded almost tired. “Cory, your mom wanted us to apologize to you, and she’s right. I’m sorry. We were rough on you and we were wrong.”

  “Yes,” Blankenship added, “I’m sorry too.”

  Wells looked at Cory. Cory couldn’t speak, but he nodded that he understood.

  Wells then looked at Cory’s mom, all business again. “All set?”

  Cory’s mom allowed herself a small smile. “Yes. Thank you, Officer Wells. I think that was important for you to say and Cory to hear.”

  Wells nodded and opened the door. “Good, then I’ll get back to my case.”

  Cory’s mom and Marvin stood up. Cory did the same, and Blankenship held the door before leading them back toward the front desk. Cory followed the adults with his head hung low. When they passed the interrogation room where Liam was, Cory could hear the roar of Officer Wells’s voice through the wall. His legs felt like sandbags, but he forced his feet to go, one step in front of the other.

  When he reached the main doorway leading out, Blankenship held the door once again. The lobby was empty except for the officer at the desk. Liam’s mom was nowhere in sight. Cory took one step into the lobby, then froze.

  His mom reached the elevators and turned to look back at him. “Cory?”

  “No.” Cory shook his head and bolted back inside.

  89

  Cory burst into the room where Wells and Liam sat facing each other across the metal table.

  His old friend sat with his face in his hands, trembling and sobbing softly.

  “Liam?” Cory darted around the table and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  Liam looked up in disbelief.

  Wells jumped to his feet. “You can’t—”

  Cory’s mom and Marvin and Blankenship appeared.

  “Cory!” his mom shouted.

  Liam gave Cory a pitiful look and sobbed, “They said Hillbrook . . .”

  “No, you’re not.” Cory glared at the four adults. “He’s not going to Hillbrook. He didn’t do anything.”

  “He gave them the code,” Wells snarled. “He’s part of it. That’s the law.”

  Wells spun around toward his partner. “I told you this was a bad idea . . . apologize?”

  “That’s not the law!” Cory’s shout left everyone stunned and silent.

  He gathered himself and spoke calmly. “Liam never intended for his brother to hear the code. Intent is an essential element of a crime. This is as much my fault as Liam’s. We were joking about it—the code—over the phone, how silly it is, four fours. Finn must have overheard us. Liam isn’t guilty of anything.”

  Cory pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. “If he’s guilty, then I’m guilty too.”

  “Let’s not get excited.” Blankenship held his hands up in the air. “We just need Liam to tell us where his brother is.”

  “He doesn’t have to tell you anything.” Cory felt like he was outside his own body, listening to some other twelve-year-old kid tell the police what was what, but the kid was right. “Did you read him his rights yet? Is he even under arrest?”

  The policemen’s eyes met. Wells’s look said “I told you so” to his partner.

  Blankenship cleared his throat. “No, he is not under arrest.”

  “Then he can go, right?” Cory said.

  Wells clenched his teeth and his jaw rippled with muscles beneath a red face. He glared at Blankenship like it was his partner’s fault for being soft and agreeing to bring Cory in to apologize.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Blankenship said.

  “Why?” Cory tried to keep his voice from trembling, even though his hands quivered like leaves beneath the table.

  “So, Liam is free to go with us?” Cory’s mom asked. “That’s how it seems here.”

  Blankenship looked at the floor and spoke through a tight mouth. “Yes. He is.”

  Cory’s mom circled the table and put her hands on both boys’ backs. “Let’s go, kids. With all due respect, officers, we’re done here.”

  90

  The next Saturday, Cory ran for five touchdowns and the HBS sixth-grade team rolled over Rome Free Academy by a score of 61–7.

  The bus ride back was full of fun. Laughter washed over them, back and forth like an ocean tide, unending and punctuated by farting noses and secret imitations of Coach P. When they piled off the bus, Cory’s mom was waiting along with Marvin and the Muillers and Trimbles. Cheyenne was there too. Cory waved and marched inside to shed his gear for street clothes. Back out they went, r
eceiving kisses and hugs like soldiers returned from battle.

  The Trimbles had a party tent set up on the broad lawn beside their pool. Smoke poured from a Dinosaur Bar-B-Que catering truck with its own massive grill in tow. There was a DJ and a dance floor, and Cory couldn’t help grinning up at his mom as they walked inside hand in hand and everyone broke into cheers. Mr. Muiller jumped up from his seat and raised Cory’s arm like a heavyweight champ.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Muiller shouted, “the Touchdown Kid!”

  Cory’s mom and Marvin sat at a big round table with the Muillers. Cheyenne winked at Cory, got up, and waved him toward the buffet line. Cory rose from his seat, but Gant pulled him aside, shouting in his ear above the music.

  “Can you believe this place?” Gant chuckled. “It’s like a wedding or something. Big time, right?”

  Cory looked around at the billowing white tent. Through a small vent hole above shone the bright blue sky. “No, Gant. It’s better than big time. It’s a dream come true. The only thing missing is Liam.”

  “Yeah, but he’ll be with us too, soon,” Gant said. “Time flies when you’re havin’ fun. Kids I know in high school say middle school’s a blink.”

  “I just hope he keeps getting better,” Cory said, raising his voice above the music. “Then they’ll have to give him one of those ninth-grade scholarships.”

  “Well, you keep doing what you’re doing,” Gant shouted, “and then you’ll just tell them to give your homeboy a scholarship.”

  Cory laughed and looked at his new friend to see that he was serious. “I’m gonna just tell them?”

  Gant laughed too. “Yeah. You’re gonna get whatever you want around here. You heard Mr. Muiller. . . .

  “You’re the Touchdown Kid!”

  BACK ADS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo by Laure Lillie

  TIM GREEN is a Syracuse University alumnus. He graduated magna cum laude, Phi Beta Kappa, and covaledictorian with a degree in English. After being selected in the first round of the 1986 NFL draft, Tim continued his excellence both on and off the field. He is a practicing lawyer, a New York Times bestselling author in two different genres, a TV personality, and a coach.

  Tim calls reading “weightlifting for your brain,” an essential habit that increases school success and builds character. Since Tim began writing for kids in 2007, his books have sold more than a million copies, and Tim has made more than nine hundred school visits and spoken to nearly a half million kids across the United States. Tim delivers a powerful message about the importance of education, reading books, and good character. Even though his own childhood dream was to become an NFL player, he had another dream equally as powerful: to become a writer. He now urges kids to put school before sports and to think about success in terms of personal relationships and kindness rather than fortune and fame. Tim uses all his speaking fees to buy copies of his books for kids, libraries, and schools who couldn’t otherwise afford them.

  Tim Green lives with his wife and their five children in upstate New York. You can visit him online at www.timgreenbooks.com.

  Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.

  BOOKS BY TIM GREEN

  FOOTBALL GENIUS NOVELS

  Football Genius

  Football Hero

  Football Champ

  The Big Time

  Deep Zone

  Perfect Season

  Left Out

  BASEBALL GREAT NOVELS

  Baseball Great

  Rivals

  Best of the Best

  Home Run

  AND DON’T MISS

  Pinch Hit

  Force Out

  Unstoppable

  New Kid

  First Team

  Kid Owner

  Lost Boy

  CREDITS

  Cover art by Cliff Nielsen

  COPYRIGHT

  TOUCHDOWN KID. Copyright © 2017 by Tim Green. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  www.harpercollinschildrens.com

  * * *

  Library of Congress Control Number 2017938991

  ISBN 978-0-06-229385-5

  EPub Edition © September 2017 ISBN 9780062293879

  * * *

  17 18 19 20 21 PC/LSCH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  FIRST EDITION

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