Touchdown Kid by Tim Green

Author:Tim Green
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2017-07-28T04:00:00+00:00

41

Jimbo gave Cory a cold look and slid into the front seat. Cory took his place in the back.

“We can’t hold up the line,” Mrs. Muiller complained as she took off, adding some lipstick and angling the rearview mirror to check the job as she sped away. “Jimbo, that’s on you.”

“Me?” Jimbo’s jaw slid sideways.

“Yes, Cory is our guest. He’s part of the family. The football family . . . and our family too.” She flicked aside a lock of brassy blond hair and flashed Cory a huge red smile.

Jimbo crossed his arms and harrumphed.

“What’s that look?” his mom asked.

“Nothing.”

“How was practice?” She sounded like a songbird, hitting the high notes.

Jimbo shook his head.

She adjusted the mirror so she could lock her own blue eyes on Cory. “Cory?”

“Not great,” Cory said.

Jimbo snorted. “I’ll say.”

“I hurt my ankle.” It was the best Cory could offer.

“Oh, my.” Mrs. Muiller switched on the radio. “This sport. ‘Ice and Advil’—that’s what my daddy always said. You’ll heal.”

She turned up the volume, sparing Cory the need to reply.

Back at the house, Jimbo disappeared. Mrs. Muiller gave Cory a bag of ice and two Advil. “Get around these. Did you get your homework done in study hall? I love that study hall for you boys.”

“I did,” Cory said, “but I thought I’d go over some notes and read ahead. They gave us The Outsiders.”

“Notes? Reading ahead? You sound like Cheyenne.” Mrs. Muiller put her hand to her mouth and hollered toward the stairs, “Cory’s reading ahead, Jimbo! You hear!”

Cory wondered if things could get worse.

“The Outsiders . . . I think we read that in school too.” She chewed her lower lip.

“Yeah,” Cory said. “So far it’s not that good.”

“And you’re reading ahead anyway.” She clucked her tongue. “Well, get that ice on your ankle. School’s important, but so is football—at least around here it is . . . Dinner at seven.”

Cory retreated downstairs to his room. He wondered where Cheyenne was and had a wild hope that she’d be sitting there like she’d been last night. When he opened the door, though, the room was quiet and empty. Cory sat on the bed, laid the ice bag over his ankle, and picked the book out of his backpack. He had settled in, his ankle aching like a bad tooth from the cold, when he heard the faint titter of girls laughing outside his window. Then, something else . . . a splash?

He limped to the window.

Through the leafy bushes, shadows flickered out by the pool. Another splash, then more laughing. He left his room and limped down the hall, crossing the game room before silently opening the glass door. The shrieks intensified, laughter swirling with delight like some new flavored ice cream. It drew him out.

Three piles of soccer cleats and uniforms lay on a lounge chair.

He watched Cheyenne and two friends from behind the bushes. They had stripped to their underwear and sports bras and were jumping in and out of the pool, pushing and shoving and laughing.

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