Perfect Season (20 page)
Authors: Tim Green
“WHAT'S GOING ON?” TATE
wandered into his mom's bedroom rubbing her eyes.
“Look.” Troy handed her the paper.
“I gotta call Seth.” Troy's mom snatched her phone from the nightstand. “They quoted him in this story, so he must have known this was coming.”
“Yeah, one quote,” Troy said. “âI did nothing wrong.' Big deal. They write a two-page article with a bunch of bull and he gets four words buried at the end.”
While his mom dialed, Troy read the story again along with Tate.
“They make it sound like Seth's doing all this stuff to get kids to come to Summit when he's not.” Tate put the paper down. “They've got one kid, this Dennaro, and then it's all these unnamed sources and anonymous phone calls to the league, and âserious complaints' from other school districts.”
“The league doesn't think they're so silly.” Troy pointed to the paper. “They're talking about suspending our team.”
“Seth must be sleeping with his phone off.” Troy's mom put the phone down. “The thing I don't get is where this is all coming from. It can't be just a fluke that people are all saying these things, but who would do all this? Who would care?”
Troy's mom stared at him. “Troy, why are you looking at me like that?”
Troy sighed. “Tell her, Tate.”
THEY BOTH STARED AT
Tate.
“Everything?” Tate tilted her head at him and he knew she was thinking about him blabbing to the UPS man about Chuku Moore.
Troy scowled, knowing that Tate always wanted to get the truth about things out on the table. He didn't want her to bring the Falcons jerseys into the whole thing, and he bet she knew that. “What do you mean, âeverything'? Just tell her about who you think is doing all this.”
Tate sighed. “Well, we think someone
is
behind all this. Someone
wants
the football program to go down.”
“Down?” Troy's mom furrowed her brow.
“Finished. Ended.” Tate drew her fingers across her throat. “No more. Remember when Seth got hired? The team had a losing streak a mile long.”
Troy's mom narrowed her eyes.
Tate kept going. “We think someone wants the football program to end so the district will demolish the stadium and the property can be used for a development. If they'd kept losing, no one would care when the football stadium got torn down.”
“What development?” Troy's mom asked.
Tate winced. “That's the part I can't figure out . . . yet.”
Troy's mom raised her eyebrows. “So, there's a developer who wants the program to end, or there isn't?”
Tate lowered her voice and looked at her feet. “I don't know. I thought so. I
think
so. I just can't find it.”
“Because if they were planning something, it would be public knowledge,” Troy's mom said. “They'd have to show the town their plans.”
“That's what I was telling Troy.” Tate looked at him. “I got the meeting notes from the planning board online and I read through them all, going back to August, but I didn't find anything.”
“I mean, three months you went through?” his mom said. “They'd have to have a bunch of meetings about something like this. There are woods behind that abandoned shopping center and I think a stream runs back through there.”
“Tate knows,” Troy said. “She said there were a bunch of old plastic flags all over the place.”
“Wait a minute!” Tate slapped her own forehead and did a little jig on the wooden floor next to Troy's mom's bed. “Oh, my gosh! I'm so stupid!”
“What, Tate?” Troy asked. “What are you talking about?”
“THE FLAGS,” TATE SAID.
“That's what I just said,” Troy replied.
“The old ones.” Tate was breathing fast. “
That's
why I couldn't find the meeting notes. They haven't
had
a meeting, maybe in a couple of years. They surveyed everything a couple of years ago. I bet they tried to get the development approved but didn't have enough land, then they went to work on figuring out how they could do it. They came up with the football field, but they didn't put a new application in or have any meetings yet because . . .”
Troy felt the same thrill Tate obviously had. “Because they didn't want anyone to know what they were doing!”
“Because probably something fishy is going on,” Troy's mom said. “But wait a second, you two. Before we get too excited, we have to find out. Some old plastic flags don't prove anything.”
“And some new plastic flags,” Tate said.
“Remember, Mom?” Troy said. “The first day we went to the school? Those guys out on the field with the survey stuff?”
“There are new flags all over the property next door, too,” Tate said. “They probably got started with their plans because everyone knew Summit football was going down the drain.”
“Until we showed up,” Troy's mom said.
“Until
Seth
showed up.” Troy felt kind of proud about the whole thing, even though it was a mess.
“We can't just think it,” Troy's mom said. “We need to
prove
it.”
SETH ARRIVED AS THEY
were all sitting down to breakfast.
Tate stared up at him from her seat, unsure what to say. Troy felt as if he were in a dream, everything was so quiet and weird. The toaster rang. Seth poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the table, ignoring the folded-up newspaper. Troy was busting to ask, but something on Seth's face told him not to.
When Troy sat down, Seth said, “I'm thinking about putting in a double-reverse pass for Friday night. You like that?”
Troy's mouth hung open for a minute before he could speak. “Yeah. Sure.”
It wasn't until Troy's mom served up four plates of eggs and sat down beside Seth with her own cup of coffee that she pointed to the paper. “Well?”
Seth sighed and sipped his coffee. “It's worse online.”
“Online?” She wrinkled her brow.
“The comments. People are nuts.” He picked up his fork and started in. “A car? Really? It's high school football. You should get a look at the kid who's saying that. He'd have a hard time making our second string.”
Tate had her phone out and she began typing in a search.
Seth shook his head at her and talked through a mouthful of eggs. “Don't. Seriously, you shouldn't even read this stuff. It's poison. The people writing it are like something you'd scrape off the bottom of your shoe. What they say with their anonymous posts doesn't matter, so don't even give it life by looking.”
“I heard about some Dennaro kid and a car.” Troy's mom nodded at Troy, then cleared her throat. “What I didn't hear aboutâand what's really bothering meâis this fuss over these Falcons jerseys . . . Troy?”
Troy winced.
“I . . .” EVEN THE FAST-SPINNING,
well-worn wheels in Troy's brain couldn't spit out an answer.
“I got the jerseys for him.” Seth sipped his coffee and everyone stared at him.
“For Chuku?” Troy's mom wrinkled her face like a dried prune.
Seth spoke before Troy could say anything. “Not Chuku. For Troy. I didn't ask Troy who he wanted them for, or whyâI just got them. You know Whitey Zimmerman loves me. That's all I did, called Whitey and had them shipped up.”
“Just like that?” Troy's mom stared.
Seth stared right back. “Yup. Just like that. There's nothing wrong.”
“The whole thing is innocent, then.” Troy's mom got excited. “Troy can just tell the paper andâ”
“Ha!” Seth slapped the table. “You think the paper is going to print that? No way. They love this mess. Besides, the really juicy thing isn't the jerseys.”
“But it's the one where they've got this so-called witness,” Troy's mom said. “And a player from your team heard you talking about a signing bonus?”
Troy and Seth glanced at each other.
“Reed,” Troy muttered. “I hate him.”
“You hate Reed because he's a big, aggressiveâand sometimes obnoxiousâteammate,” Seth said. “But you don't know who talked to him or what they asked him. He probably didn't mean to add to the mess.”
“But he did.” Troy didn't want Reed to be forgiven so easily.
“The jerseys, and the fact that they've got two people to support that part of the story, make the whole thing seem like you really
are
recruiting,” Troy's mom said.
Seth scratched his chin. “I guess I ought to sue that Dennaro kid. A car . . .”
“Why don't you sue him?” Relief washed over Troy at the turn the conversation had takenâaway from the jerseysâand he wanted to keep it going that way.
“You don't sue a kid for saying something stupid just so he can get some attention,” Troy's mom said. “You just let it go.”
“He deserves to be sued, or something,” Troy said. “A pie in his face.”
“If everyone got what they deserved, your mom would be married to Prince William instead of dating a broken-down football player,” Seth said.
“I like broken-down football players.” She gave his arm a pat and started clearing the table. “Especially the strong, silent type.”
“Then I'll stop talking.” Seth grinned and sipped his coffee. “You kids want a ride to school? I'm meeting Mr. Biondi about all this mess.”
“What does he think?” Troy's mom asked.
Seth set his fork down and wiped his mouth. “Honestly? He thinks we're in trouble.”
“We've got a plan.” Tate proceeded to tell Seth her theory on the football stadium being targeted as part of a development plan and how they were going to follow through on getting some proof so the league wouldn't suspend the team.
“What did Troy say Helena called you?” Seth nodded at Tate. “A spitfire, right? I like that about you, Tate.”
“She's super.” Troy's mom went to the fridge and handed Troy and Tate the bag lunches she'd made. “Now you guys get going. School.”
They got their backpacks and climbed into Seth's truck and drove to the school. Seth was quiet. He chewed a piece of gum as if he was trying to kill it.
“I'm meeting Mr. Biondi in the football team room, but do you want me to drop you guys in front?” Seth asked as the school came into view.
“No,” Troy said. “The back entrance is closer to our lockers anyway.”
Seth pulled right up next to the football clubhouse door. No sooner had they left the truck than Mr. Biondi burst out of the team room with a look of disaster.
“Seth, I'm sorry, I can't talk right now. The league isn't even waiting until tomorrow night anymore. They called an emergency meeting to vote.”
“Vote?” Seth's tone was a blend of anger and disbelief. “Vote on what?”
Mr. Biondi looked away for a moment, then squinted at Seth. “This thing is getting too hot for some people, with everything in the paper.”
“It's all lies,” Seth said.
Mr. Biondi spoke quietly. “But it's
in
the papers. Listen, I'm your biggest supporter, you know that, but I don't like how this is shaping up. The people on this league committee are from the schools you've been beating up on every Friday night.”
“But vote on what?” Seth asked.
Mr. Biondi frowned. “A suspension for recruiting violations.”
“Suspend me?” Seth laughed out loud. “Let them try. I'll sue their pants off. I recruited no one. That's slander.”
“Not suspend
you
.” Mr. Biondi shook his head sadly. “They're clever, the snakes. They want to suspend
us
, the school. The football program.”
Seth tilted his head. “So we'd be out of the playoffs?”
Mr. Biondi blinked at him. “Seth, before you came, this football program was on its last breath. We barely had enough kids come out to field a team, and no one cared about football. The board has to make a decision. If they keep football, they have to build a new stadium that would cost at least a couple of million dollars. If they let football die, they could not only save the money on the new stadium, they'd make money by selling the land. That's what
was
going to happen. It was practically a done deal. Everyone knew it. Then you came and . . . it's all different. But this?
“If they suspend us, it's over, Seth. This isn't about the playoffs. This is about Summit not even having a football team.”
SETH STARED FOR NEARLY
a minute. Troy heard the first bell ring and he knew if he didn't go, he'd be late for homeroom. He didn't care.
“Tell me you're kidding. You're kidding, right?” Seth said.
Mr. Biondi shook his head, slow and sad, again.
“You're acting as if this can really happen.” A note of alarm rang in Seth's voice.
“I'm hoping it won't. Look, I've got to get to that meeting. I'll call you as soon as I know anything.” Mr. Biondi pushed past them, got into his car, and drove off.
Troy shifted the backpack from one shoulder to the other. Seth watched the car disappear before turning his attention to Troy. “Don't worry. It'll be fine.”
“Is there something I can do?” Troy asked. The hollow sound of the words made him even more helpless.
“Throw five touchdowns Friday night. That's all you have to do.” Seth patted Troy on the shoulder. “Leave the rest to me. Don't worry. You guys better get to class, right?”
The second bell rang. Troy cast a glance at the brick building. “We're already late.”
“Well, I'm fine, so stop looking at me like that,” Seth said. “I'll see you at practice. Bye, Tate.”
They left Seth just standing there and hustled inside.
Troy's homeroom teacher, Mr. Chapman, didn't even look up from some papers he was grading when Troy came in late. Chuku was frowning at something on his desk, his eyes so intent that he didn't hear Troy's greeting. Troy slipped into his seat, but before he could ask what was wrong, the bell rang, ending homeroom.
At lunch, Chuku grabbed Troy by the arm as soon as he saw him, pulling him close.
“Did you see the paper?” Gone was Chuku's brilliant smile and easygoing manner. He scowled as Troy had never seen him do before.
“I know about that.” Troy kept his voice low. “Listen, the league is having an emergency meeting. Seth says it will all work out. I don't know. Mr. Biondi didn't look so good.”
“Yeah, but why are they talking about
me
?” Chuku's voice crept up a notch and he shot a glance all around them, as if people might be listening. “I
paid
for those jerseys. I took you to Helena. And who's this unnamed player who heard Seth talk about a signing bonus?”
“Reed, that jerk. It had to be.”
“I didn't get a signing bonus. What's he talking about?” Worry weighed down Chuku's face.
“Remember when Seth was kidding with you about it? It was the first time we had practice.”
“I didn't think I could hate Reed any more than I already did.” Chuku shook his head.
“Look, all that doesn't even matter,” Troy said.
“It matters because I can get suspended.” Chuku's voice rose. “Even if it's not true. If they say it's true, it doesn't matter what the
real
truth is. I'm in deep crap.”
“Chuku, relax.” Troy hushed him. “Please. It's bad enough already. They aren't after you. Trust me. They're after Seth. They don't want to end
your
season. They want to end it for everyone.”
Tate came over, and between her and Troy, they explained everything that was going on. Instead of Chuku calming down, he grew even more visibly upset. When the bell rang, they got up to go. Chuku put a hand on Troy's shoulder. “Can't somebody stop them?”
“Sure, where's Superman? Maybe Thor.” They moved into the tide of kids flowing through the halls for the afternoon classes.
