Tim Green - The Big Time

Troy forced a smile and shook his head before scooting back down the hall to use the bathroom and dress. He sat down to a steaming bowl of oatmeal with raisins and banana slices and dug in.

When his mom dropped him off at school, she signed him in at the office. He hugged her tight before heading for his locker. He was in the hallway outside math class when Tate found him and asked where he'd been. Troy explained about his mom letting him sleep in before launching proudly into the newfound information he had on his father. Nathan joined them halfway through Troy's glowing report. When he'd finished, Nathan whistled low.

"Records at Auburn," Nathan said. "That's sweet."

"Wow. Who else does he represent besides G Money?" Tate asked.

"I don't know," Troy said, his excitement riding high. He began to tell them the story of the night before-sneaking out, G Money's mansion, and his dad climbing the wall with him-but the bell rang before he could finish, and his friends had to stay in suspense until third-period study hall, when they all got library passes.

Troy got on the computer and, armed with his father's name, Googled the former college star turned big-time lawyer, proudly pulling up the Auburn University football record book.

"Look," he said, pointing out his dad's name in the record books, once for being third in total rushing yards in a season and another for tying for first with five touchdowns in a single game.

"The real deal," Nathan said quietly.

"That's great, Troy," Tate said.

Troy looked up and in a hushed library voice finished telling them the story about the night before. When he stopped talking, Troy noticed that Tate was gnawing gently on her knuckle.

"What's wrong?" Troy asked.

Tate hesitated, then said, "You don't really think you can fool your mom, do you?"

"I'm not 'fooling' her, Tate," he said. "I'm just…I don't know, playing out the situation."

"Right," she said, "manipulating."

"Don't even listen to her," Nathan said, swatting the air. "It's a great plan. Your mom will be happy, and you'll get a big-time contract and your dad back all at once. It's perfect. I'm happy for you, Troy. Can't you just be happy for the man, Tate?"

Tate scowled at Nathan, raised her voice, and said, "Telling someone what they want to hear might be your idea of being a friend, but it's not mine. I don't like it, that's all. I'm just telling him how I feel."

Tate looked at Troy and Nathan, obviously wondering if they'd be heading back to study hall with her, but Nathan scooted his chair closer to the computer screen and put an arm around Troy's shoulder.

"Come on, Troy," he said in a whisper, "let's Google his clients and see who else he reps besides you and G Money."

Tate nodded for Troy to go ahead, then walked away. Troy turned eagerly back toward the screen, thrilled at the prospect of what he might find. G Money was as big as it got, though. The rest of his dad's clients-at least the ones he could locate from newspaper articles and websites-were names he had only remotely heard of, if at all.

"Hey, what's that?" Nathan asked, still hungry for more names he recognized. "Northlake Trust? That's a band, right?"

Troy's fingers danced over the keys as he refined his search.

"It's my dad's client, but it's no band," he said, reading. "In fact, whoever they are, it looks like they're in some pretty big trouble."

TROY LEANED TOWARD THEscreen, afraid that what he saw might somehow affect his mom's outlook on Troy reuniting with his dad.

"Stuff here with the IRS and the Justice Department?" Troy said, trying to talk lightly. "Man, I guess sometimes being a lawyer is going to get you mixed up with some suspicious characters."

"So long as their money's green, right?" Nathan said.

When Troy looked at him, Nathan shrugged and said, "Hey, I saw it on TV."

"Well," Troy said, glancing at the clock. "Enough for now. I'm sure there are some other big-time people he keeps under wraps, you know, confidentiality and all that. A lawyer has to know how to keep quiet."

"Yeah, that's for sure," Nathan said. "Everyone knows that."

At lunch, the talk about Troy's dad continued. Only a couple of times during the day did the three friends discuss the Border War game, but when they did Troy assured them both that his finger was so much better that he thought he might even be able to practice the next night if he taped it up tight.

"Awesome," Tate said. "That scholarship money's got my name on it."

"You and me both, sister," Nathan said, slurping the last bit of milk from his carton with a straw. "My cousin says you can't go to college without a flat-screen TV and an Xbox Elite."

"It's a scholarship, for books and tuition and all that, not video games," Tate said.

"Hey, it's about the educational experience, Tate," Nathan said. "That's college."

"College is supposed to be a learning experience," Tate said.

"Do you know how hard it is to learn all ten maps in Gears of War 2?" Nathan asked. "You think this algebra stuff is tough? Sheesh. You ain't seen nothing."

The day couldn't pass quickly enough for Troy. When he got off the bus at the end of his driveway, he was surprised to see his mom's green VW bug waiting for him with its engine softly purring. He swung open the passenger door, and his mom told him to get in.

"I've got a surprise for you, Troy," she said, her face glowing.

No matter how hard he begged, she only grinned and shook her head as they spun down the dirt drive, kicking up grit and small stones. He could only imagine that it had to be his dad. His mom must have gotten the papers, then called him to work out the details for visitation; that's when she must have seen how closely his ideas meshed with hers. The two of them must now be united in their efforts to get Troy the best deal he could possibly get and to take advantage of the media frenzy.

His dream went up quickly, soaring like a lump of clay thrown into a towering vase the way his art teacher could do on a potter's wheel. He even dared to dream the ultimate dream that somehow, some way, his parents would end up back together.

When they turned the final bend in the road, the fragile tower of perfectly balanced clay wobbled violently, then crashed down into a mess of slimy mud.

IT WASN'T HIS FATHER'Sorange Porsche but Seth's yellow H2 that was resting in the red clay patch in front of Troy's house. Beside it was a silver Cadillac sedan. On the porch, Seth stood talking to a man who wore a dark blue sweat suit, a baseball cap, and big glasses.

"Who is that?" Troy asked.

"Come on," his mom said, pulling to a stop and getting out of the car. "Let me introduce you."

Troy followed his mom up the front steps.

"Thank you so much for coming," his mom said to the man who blinked curiously at Troy. "Troy, this is John Marchiano. Mr. Marchiano came all the way from Las Vegas to help us."

Marchiano wore a big, friendly smile, and it seemed even brighter set in a face dark with razor stubble. His hair was long enough to spill free from the back of the baseball cap. He looked nothing like Troy's father, not even in the same league. Not big time at all.

"Troy, nice to meet you," Marchiano said, sticking out his hand so that Troy had to shake it. "Just call me John. You've got some mom, I'll tell you; and Seth has told me all about you. I'd love to help out."

Despite the sinking feeling in his stomach, Troy had to admit that there was something very open and friendly about the man; in any other setting, he would have liked him. Still, Troy said, "Thanks for coming, Mr. Marchiano, but I've got someone to help me already."