“Maybe I won’t end up getting in, either,” Tuck said.
Tuck never took anything for granted. But Kenny knew Stanford would be lucky to get his friend. Tuck was going places. He could be the next Albert Einstein. “Tuck, your test scores are so high, they’re sending you Stanford key chains and shit.”
Tuck removed his glasses and cleaned them on his plain white T-shirt. It had taken some doing, but Kenny had finally convinced his buddy to stick with T-shirts and jeans and to forget the old man clothes his mother bought for him.
“Okay. Why not make your mark in something unrelated to sports?” Tuck asked.
This was certainly a new idea. “Like?”
Tuck blinked at him. “You could join the debate team.”
“Except that I can’t debate.”
“I could teach you.” Tuck settled his glasses back over the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be captain of the team this year.”
Kenny knew Tuck would put him on the team, and then try to cover for him when he couldn’t argue anything. He wasn’t interested in the political issues that excited Tuck, but he appreciated his friend’s loyalty. He’d thought about trying to get Tuck on the football team somehow, just so he’d have better luck with the girls. But Tuck didn’t understand the thrill of knocking other guys down. The whole track thing was, according to him, “simply an attempt to be well-rounded.”
Kenny shook his head at the term “well-rounded,” but Tuck’s uniqueness was part of the reason Kenny liked him so much. Tuck had things to say that really mattered. And despite his small size, he had more guts than anyone Kenny had ever met. Kenny would never forget seeing Tuck stand up to his father when Mr. Mills was hitting his wife. The boys had been only twelve years old at the time. Tuck and his mom had gotten pummeled pretty good before Kenny could bring help, but he’d calmly wiped away the blood on his mouth, taped his broken glasses back together and explained that some people weren’t emotionally mature enough to deal with their inadequacies in an effective way.
Fortunately, Mr. Mills was gone now. No one knew where. Tuck and his mother had had to sell their house in Kenny’s neighborhood and move across town into a small duplex. But at least no one was beating on them anymore.
The keys to the Mustang they’d parked a few feet away jingled as Tuck shifted position. When Kenny glanced back, he found his friend frowning and staring at the ground.
“What is it?”
“I was just thinking….”
“About what?”
“About how this is the kind of decision that can define a person for life.”
Tuck was always saying Yoda crap like that. Half the time, Kenny didn’t know what he meant. But judging by Tuck’s somber expression, he was putting a lot of brainpower toward Kenny’s problem and, if it would bring a solution, Kenny wanted to hear about it. “How?”
“Well, what kind of person do you want to be?”
“I want to be a professional football player.”
Tuck’s hazel eyes lifted to Kenny’s. “I’m talking about character traits. Do you want to have honor?”
“Of course.”
“Do you want to earn what you get with courage and determination?”
Kenny scowled. “Come on, Tuck. You know I do.”
His friend draped one arm over a bony knee. “Then the answer’s simple. Be true to yourself.”
Kenny threw a twig at him. “Damn it, Tuck. Why don’t you just tell me to use the force?”
Predictably, Tuck didn’t duck fast enough. The twig caught in his hair, but he calmly pulled it out and tossed it aside. “That’s what it comes down to,” he said. “Either you sell out or you don’t.”
“There are consequences. The consequences are the problem. If I don’t fall in line with Blaine, it could affect my whole career.”
“Your whole life,” Tuck agreed.
Kenny gaped at him. “Right. So why do you sound so excited?”
“Don’t you get it? If you want to be the kind of man you just told me you want to be, you have to hold fast to your ideals even when it requires a sacrifice. This is an opportunity to prove yourself.”
An opportunity? Had Tuck finally wigged out? “Prove myself to who?”
“To the only person that really counts—you. Think of that movie we saw in English class.”
Kenny grasped at the first one that came to mind. “All The President’s Men?”
“A Man for All Seasons.”
“God, you’re talking about Thomas More again.” Tuck had been going on and on about More for the past two weeks.
“He chose to die rather than sacrifice his ideals.”
“Which didn’t make his wife and children very happy,” Kenny pointed out.
“If he would’ve given in, I don’t think anyone would’ve blamed him. But there wouldn’t have been anything remarkable about it, either.”
Kenny tossed another rock into the lake, creating a big splash because he hadn’t bothered to throw it at a slant. “No one will be making a movie about this, Tuck. Especially when I get booted off the team.”
Tuck’s voice was soft when he responded. “If you get booted off for doing the right thing, it’ll be something you can proud of whether they make a movie out of it or not.”
HANNAH SAT at her desk, staring at the phone. She was supposed to be framing some portraits that had just come in, but the hot summer sun streaming through her office window was making her sluggish. And she couldn’t quit thinking about Kenny…and Gabe. She wanted to follow Mike’s lead and draw Gabe out of his cabin once in awhile. But how?
Tapping her fingernails on her blotter, she decided her best chance would be to get him dating and socializing again. Now all she needed was the right woman. Dundee wasn’t exactly New York City or Los Angeles, but it had several single women. Who was available, attractive and fun enough to appeal to him?
An image of Ashleigh Evans immediately popped into Hannah’s mind. Ashleigh was perfect. She possessed a body that rivaled Pamela Anderson’s, so she had a good chance of enticing an ex-football player, who’d been out of circulation far too long, into having dinner with her once or twice. And she seemed to like everyone without getting too attached, so she was unlikely to get hurt. Besides, Ashleigh cut hair for a living, which gave Hannah a good excuse to bring her out to Gabe’s cabin.