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  “Have your dad get a place in Summit. You and me—and hopefully Ty—can play on the same team together.”

  “How’s the team in Summit?” Chuku asked.

  “Butt-ugly.” Troy folded his arms across his chest.

  Chuku laughed. “So why would I move into a place with a butt-ugly team?”

  “Because it’s not gonna stay that way,” Troy said. “You heard of Seth Halloway, the all-pro linebacker from the Falcons? He’s gonna be the coach,” Troy said.

  “For real?” Chuku tilted his head.

  “And bring me—and Ty if he’s there—and I’m sure you up to the varsity team.”

  “Dude, I’m faster than any high school kid. I know I’ll be varsity, but you look like an eighth grader. I’m about ready to shave. See this?” Chuku poked his tongue up under his top lip so that it curled out to display a few tufts of fine, dark hair. “They don’t put eighth graders on the varsity in football unless you’re ready to shave. Maybe soccer or wrestling I heard of it, but not football.”

  “It happens sometimes.” Troy rubbed his own empty upper lip. “How would you like to catch the ball for five years in the same system? An NFL system with a spread offense? How’d you like to have colleges from everywhere recruiting you?”

  “That’s my plan,” Chuku said.

  “Well,” Troy said, “what do you think? Do you want to try to do it?”

  Chuku stared at him, frowning. “You know what you are?”

  Troy swallowed. “No, what?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “YOU’RE CRAZY . . .”

  Suddenly, Chuku’s smile lit up his face like candles on a birthday cake. “But I happen to like crazy people, so why not?”

  “Do you think your dad will go for it?” Troy couldn’t help himself from grabbing Chuku’s hand and shaking it.

  “He might,” Chuku said. “Talk about crazy . . .”

  Chuku nodded toward the building and Troy turned around. Chuku’s dad emerged and was heading their way.

  “Dad, this is Troy and Ty. Ty is Tiger Lewis’s little brother.”

  “And you’re the kid from ESPN.” Mr. Moore spoke in a deep, strong voice that vibrated the air like a sports car with no muffler. “The secret weapon that’s not so secret.”

  Troy’s hand got lost in the iron grip of Mr. Moore’s hand. It was all he could do to keep his bones from snapping like toothpicks.

  “You should see him throw. He looks like RG3. Just zips it. I swear, he could throw into double coverage, triple coverage, and get the ball there.” Chuku spoke with an admiration that belied the conflict between the two of them. “These guys say we should move into Summit so we can all play on the same team. You remember Seth Halloway? He’s gonna coach the team.”

  “Seth Halloway from the Falcons Seth Halloway?” Chuku’s dad screwed up his face. “He’s up here in New Jersey?”

  “He’s a family friend,” Troy said.

  “Can we do it?” Chuku asked.

  Mr. Moore studied Troy as if to see whether his son was for real. Troy gave an encouraging nod.

  Mr. Moore laughed. “Well, we got to live somewhere. We’ll see if there’s anything decent there. Come on, Chuku. Time to go.”

  “Can I stay and catch with these guys and you pick me up later? They’re gonna throw the rock around.”

  “Sure,” Chuku’s dad said. “I’ve got a couple of things I can do. I’ll be back in an hour, though.”

  The three of them got down to the business of throwing and catching the football, running patterns and making up plays. Troy was in heaven. As good as Ty was, Chuku had an even sharper break out of his patterns, and even when Troy had a grossly errant throw, Chuku twisted and turned like a snake and came down with the ball effortlessly. It was impossible not to be impressed.

  After one jumping, spinning, one-handed catch of Chuku’s, Troy couldn’t contain himself. “Guys, do you know what will happen if I have both of you to throw to? I mean, one of you would be awesome, but both? Defenses can’t cover two deep speed guys. One, they can always double-cover with the free safety, but two? It’ll be impossible! We will slay people!”

  Chuku and Ty nodded at each other and exchanged high fives, then they got back to work.

  Troy’s arm grew sore, but he felt like a kindergartner with his Halloween candy spilled out on the floor. He wanted to have it all. When Ty ran a deep post, Troy’s arm flagged and the ball drifted behind him. Ty spun and got a hand on it, but bobbled and ultimately dropped it.

  “Come on, Troy. Get that up.” Ty kicked the ball.

  The criticism burned Troy and his head grew hot. “If you get your hands on it, you’re supposed to catch it. Watch Chuku.”

  “Ha!” Ty marched back toward the fifty-yard line, where Troy was standing. “My brother says when Sanchez underthrows the ball he takes the blame for the drop. He might not be a football genius, but he’s got a rocket for an arm. I guess that’s the difference . . .”

  Troy had ten mean things to say about Ty’s brother on the tip of his tongue when a horn beeped from the parking lot. It was Chuku’s dad in a big white Mercedes sedan.

  “Well, ladies . . .” Chuku gave them fist bumps and a grin that ignored their bickering. “You saw how masterful I was on the football field. Now it’s time for me to take my skills to the home front and make sure we wind up in Summit.”

  “What’s the plan?” Ty asked.

  Chuku’s face went flat. “Guilt.”

  “Guilt?”

  “Dawgs, Denzel Washington’s got nothing on Chuku Moore. ‘Dad, I left all my friends in Baltimore and now these guys and I got something going and you just got to help me out by getting a place in Summit.’” Chuku let his whimpering words echo in their ears as he nodded with satisfaction. “I can make a grown man cry.”

  “Your face could make a grown man cry,” Troy said.

  Chuku leaped at Troy and put him in a playful headlock. Troy slipped out of it and bear-hugged Chuku and they rolled on the ground, wrestling and laughing until Chuku’s dad beeped again and Chuku sprang to his feet.

  “Gotta go, dawgs.” Halfway across the field he shouted over his shoulder, “See you in Summit!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  THEY WATCHED CHUKU AND his dad pull away.

  Troy fought the urge to argue with Ty about who should take the blame on a bad pass. Instead, he did something he knew would make his mom proud. “Hey, man. I’m sorry. You’re right about that genius stuff. I want to be a player, and that was a bad pass. If I’m gonna be a top quarterback, I need to take the blame. We good?”

  Ty grinned and slapped Troy a high five. “You know we’re good.”

  On the way home Ty sat in front with Thane and Troy rode in the back. They were out on the highway before Thane spoke. “I took a peek when we had a break. You guys almost look like you know what you’re doing.”

  “Hey,” Ty said, “I might not be Tiger Lewis, but I’m a Lewis, too.”

  They all chuckled and rode in silence for a few minutes. Thane’s comment had given Troy an idea, but he didn’t pursue it until he caught Thane’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “So, Thane, you like McElroy and Sanchez?”

  “Yeah, I seem to connect pretty well with both of them so far. I haven’t been able to run my patterns at full speed, though, so it’s still up in the air.”

  “You like him, though, right?” Troy asked. “McElroy.”

  “Everybody likes Greg. What’s not to like?”

  “That’s good because chemistry is pretty important, right?” Troy met Thane’s eyes again.

  “You bet,” Thane said.

  “I mean, people make their careers with the right partners . . .” Troy pretended to be thinking. “Peyton Manning and Marvin Harrison . . . Ben Roethlisberger and Hines Ward . . . you need that chemistry.”

  They rode in silence some more before Thane looked at Troy in the mirror again. “And you two have it.”

  Troy shrugged. “I like to thi
nk so . . .”

  “And that’s why I should let Ty roll the dice and take a chance on playing at Summit instead of St. Stephen’s, where we know the coaching and the program is one of—if not the—best in high school football anywhere?” Thane made it seem as if the question was silly.

  “And the fact that it looks like me and Ty just ensured he won’t be the only thing defenses are gonna have to worry about.” Troy spoke confidently.

  “Why is that?”

  “No one’s gonna be able to double-cover Ty all game long.” Troy waggled his eyebrows. “We pretty much just guaranteed we’re gonna have speed on both sides of the offense.”

  “Oh, really? And how did you do that?” Thane asked.

  Troy told him about Chuku Moore.

  “Faster than Ty?” Thane looked over at his younger brother. “What say you?”

  Ty nodded and shrugged.

  Thane sucked in his lower lip before he said, “Well, let’s just see if Seth really gets the job, okay? You guys are putting the cart before the horse.”

  Before anyone could say anything more, Troy’s phone buzzed with an incoming text message. He looked down and saw Seth’s number.

  “Looks like we’ll know in about two seconds,” Troy said as he hit the button and opened the message.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  TROY CLEARED HIS THROAT and tried to speak casually. “The cart is now behind the horse. He got the job.”

  “He did? Just like that?” Ty crunched up his forehead.

  Troy looked at Seth’s text again. “It says the principal told him before the interview even started that Summit was honored to have him even consider it. They interviewed him for half an hour, then offered him the job.”

  “Hey, that’s great. I’m happy for you guys,” Thane said. “Look, Troy. I don’t want you to get too excited is all.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  THANE SIGHED. “THERE’S NO guarantee about Ty.”

  Ty looked over at his brother. “Why not?”

  Thane shook his head. “There’s no question about St. Stephen’s being a great football program right now. It’s not easy to just come in and turn a team around, even for someone as good as Seth.”

  Ty frowned and said nothing.

  “You want to be with me, though, right, Ty?”

  “Yeah. Sure. Of course.” Ty nodded.

  Troy could see, though, that Thane wasn’t completely sold, so he dropped it. They pulled into Troy’s driveway and all said good-bye. Troy heaved a sigh as he watched the black Escalade roll away trailing a cloud of dust. Inside, Seth had a mess of papers spread out all over the kitchen table. He was talking on his cell phone but waved for Troy to come in and sit down.

  “That’s great, Joe,” Seth said. “Yeah, I find out for sure tomorrow night, but they said it’s in the bag . . . Well, I’m going to get them going with some basic stuff right away, but we’ll start officially on August fifteenth. It’ll be great. Yeah, he’s young, but he can sling it and wait till you see him read a defense. Okay. Bye.” Seth hung up and grinned.

  “Congratulations!”

  “Thanks!” Seth pointed at his papers. “I’ve been scrambling to fill out my coaching staff, and just wait till you hear who that was on the phone.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “WHO?” TROY ASKED.

  “Joe Sindoni, our new offensive coordinator,” Seth said.

  “Joe who?” Troy’s spirits sank. “Did he play in the NFL?”

  “Nope.”

  “Coach college?”

  “Nope, he was the JV coach at a Catholic school called CBA, so being a varsity coach is a nice step up for him. Don’t look at me like that. Trust me.”

  “But . . .” Troy bit his lip. “It’s just that Thane was talking to us on the ride home about how great St. Stephen’s is. I don’t know if Thane’s going to let him come.”

  Seth stood up and put a hand on Troy’s shoulder. “We can’t worry about one guy. We need to build this thing from the ground up. It’ll be you and me and my staff. Maybe we get Ty, maybe we don’t. Don’t worry, we’ll find an athlete or two and turn them into receivers. The rest of it will be up to us.”

  Before Troy could tell him about Chuku, his mom and Tate arrived.

  “How are your nails?” Troy tried not to sound disgusted.

  Tate held up both hands and splayed her fingers, showing off her dark blue polish.

  “Yeah. Nice.” Troy rolled his eyes.

  “Why so sour?” Troy’s mom asked.

  “He’s balled up about Thane maybe keeping Ty at St. Stephen’s,” Seth said.

  “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, Troy.” His mom showed Seth her painted nails. “I’ve told you, you can’t manipulate everyone and everything. You’ve got to leave that alone.”

  “He hasn’t said no.” Troy frowned.

  “Thane doesn’t want to say no,” his mom said. “But sometimes people mean no when they don’t say yes. Do you understand?”

  Pressure built up inside Troy’s head like someone was working a tire pump in his ear. “No.”

  “Well, trust me. Let it be. If Ty is going to come, they’ll tell you. Stop asking.” His mom brightened suddenly. “Hey, Mrs. McGreer called while we were having our nails done, and good news . . . Tate’s father is stabilized.”

  “What’s that mean?” Troy asked.

  “He’s not getting any worse.” Tate wrinkled her forehead. “But they said it’ll be a while before they know how well he’ll be able to recover. My mom wants me to get ready to go to school here.”

  Troy’s mom put a hand on Tate’s head. “It’ll be all right, honey. We’re all praying for him. He’ll be okay.”

  “Well, it’d be great if you went here.” Troy didn’t hide his enthusiasm.

  “Your mom even called the soccer coach,” Tate said.

  “And Tate’s going to the last day of her camp, tomorrow. Isn’t that great? It’ll be a good start if she does have to go to school here,” Troy’s mom said.

  When Tate smiled, Troy relaxed.

  During dinner, he explained his new plans to Tate.

  “You see, if we have two fast wide receivers—Chuku and Ty—the defense just doesn’t have enough men to cover them both. When someone is that fast, you have to have one guy take the underneath routes and one guy for the deep stuff. It makes everything ten times better if you have two.”

  “I’ve never seen you so hyped up, Troy,” Tate said.

  Troy nodded. “It’s just that there’s so much at stake here. I mean, when I went to register at school my mom and I saw some people surveying the field. Mr. Bryant—he’s the guidance counselor—he said the school had to either upgrade the stadium or end football. So if we can win and turn this thing around, I know the school board and everybody will want a new stadium. It’ll be like the beginning of a football dynasty.”

  Tate glanced at Troy’s mom, then leaned close so only he could hear. “Do you think Ty will really come with you?”

  “I hope so.” Troy lowered his voice, too. “We need him.”

  “Great food.” Seth wiped his mouth and set the napkin down before standing up to help clear the table.

  When the kitchen was clean, the four of them went to a movie. On their way home through town, Troy pointed to an apartment building just off the main street. “If Chuku’s dad is in, why couldn’t they live right there?”

  Seth pulled up in front of the redbrick building to take a closer look. A sign said there were places available for rent. “Nice. Perfect. You got his phone number?”

  “Yeah,” Troy said.

  “So text him the number for the rental office. It’s there on the sign. Tell him we said they should check it out.”

  Troy did as Seth said.

  “You’re really serious about all this, aren’t you?” Troy’s mom said.

  “Of course.” Seth started heading back. “Who knows? They have to live somewhere.”

  “But to
move someplace just because you want your son to be on a football team?” Troy’s mom shook her head. “You’d have to be crazy.”

  “Hey, Chuku’s dad plays in the NFL.” Seth moved his eyebrows up and down. “You can bet he’s crazy.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  THAT NIGHT TROY’S MOM got a text from Thane asking them all to join him and Ty for a day at their beach house on the Jersey Shore.

  “Rats,” Tate said. “I’ve got soccer camp.”

  “We’ll be going plenty,” Troy said. “Don’t worry about that.”

  The next morning, Thane’s big black Escalade pulled into the driveway just after breakfast. Seth rode up front with Thane while the rest of them spread out in the back. They dropped Tate off at the school on their way. It wasn’t until she hopped out that Ty could even pick up his head.

  “Bring your football?” Ty asked.

  Troy held up his ball before tucking it back under his arm.

  They watched a movie on the drive and before Troy knew it, they pulled into the gravel drive of a modern-looking white house full of glass and sharp angles. They piled out and Ty proudly showed them inside.

  A huge mobile was suspended above them in the massive entryway. The simple, flat, black-and-white shapes drifting around wires looked like space junk to Troy.

  “Thane bought it decorated like this,” Ty explained. “The realtor said it was a good deal. People got divorced.”

  A jealous sigh escaped Troy at the thought that he could have a beach house, if only his father hadn’t been such a sketchy character. As he changed into his bathing suit, he gritted his teeth and told himself he could still have a beach house . . . it would just take longer than he’d have liked.

  There was a large deck off the back of the house surrounding a rectangular pool that looked like it dropped right off into the ocean. Beyond the dunes, half a dozen lounge chairs rested in the sand beneath two huge white umbrellas. The adults were talking and said they’d meet the kids down on the beach.

  “Sunblock!” Troy’s mom tossed him a tube.