"I'm always around to help out a friend." He let go of Julie's hand and took the too-small seat next to Jack. "What's up?"
"Nothing, I guess. I was playing with some guys in the neighborhood and sprained my wrist. The doctor said I could go home." His head fell back to his chest. "I thought I broke it, but I guess the sound I heard was just the other guy's helmet hitting mine."
Inwardly, Ty winced. "Hurts like hell, huh?"
He knew the drill with sprains. Lots of pain, no sympathy, and you were expected to get right back out there on the field.
Jack shrugged, playing tough guy.
"They said I should take these every four hours." He held up a sample bottle of children's Motrin.
Ty leaned forward on his knees. "You hungry?" Jack nodded. "Starved."
"I know a place that makes great burgers. Used to go there after games."
For the first time since they'd walked into the waiting room, Jack's eyes lit up.
"You're not taking me straight home?"
Ty looked the kid in the eye. "You haven't told your dad yet?"
Jack shook his head. "He's going to be really mad."
Jack's dad was going to shit a brick at the thought of his little prizewinner's future possibly getting screwed up. Ty was pretty sure Jack's days of neighborhood pickup games were over.
"First we'll eat lunch. Then we'll tell him. Together."
Julie stood up. "I'll let the nurse know we're heading out."
The first sign that Jack was feeling better was the endless chatter that filled first the waiting room, then the car, and then their booth in the back of The Boardwalk, a burger and pizza dive that had survived the endless Silicon Valley boom.
But rather than feeling better about everything now that Jack clearly was on the mend, what had happened with Jack hit too close to home. Way too close.
All week at football camp, Ty'd had the uncomfortable sensation that he'd been stepping into his past. He could guess what Jack's life was like: teachers pushing him into the next grade whether he'd earned it or not, never having to be accountable for screwing up on or off the field simply because everyone--coaches, his drunk-ass dad, girlfriends, even his buddies--wanted a piece of his success.
Ty could see into Jack's future. He'd go to college for the exposure, not an education, and he'd quit the minute a seven-figure deal landed in his lap.
From that point forward, he'd live in fear of getting hurt. Later, when he had more money than he knew what to do with, he might break down and hire some secret tutors to teach him all the things he'd missed along the way, like reading and science and an appreciation for something other than football.
Was he just as bad as everyone else in Jack's life? After all, wasn't he on the verge of sending Jack back home after making some excuses to his father about how accidents happened, and not to worry? Ty had never thought of himself as a chicken shit. Until now.
Turning to Julie, he said, "Jack and I need to talk outside for a few minutes, man to man. You don't mind, do you?"
She smiled at them both. "Take as long as you need. I'll just sit here and work on my French fries."
Jack followed him out of the restaurant and they sat down on a bench just outside the window. Julie munched on fries and pretended not to look at them.
He'd never known a woman could be like her. Soft and warm, yet hard when she needed to be. A dozen times smarter than anyone he knew, and at the same time sexier than hell.
Jack kicked a rock off the sidewalk. "You wanna go over what we're going to tell my dad, so he doesn't get too pissed?"
Ty focused on Jack's expensive sneakers. Nothing but the best equipment for this kid, whether he deserved it or not. Unfortunately, if he didn't lay down some hard truths and set Jack straight, no one ever would. Everyone else had too much to gain from Jack's eventual success.
"I was a lot like you when I was a kid."
"Really? Cool."
"My dad was pretty messed up a lot of the time. Still is, actually."
"Did he freak when you got hurt?"
"Sure did. All he cared about was whether I could play in the next game, or if the injury would affect my future. I acted like I wasn't in pain, even when I was." He paused. "Is your arm still throbbing?"
Jack nodded. "A little." He swallowed. "A lot, actually. But I don't want my dad to know."
Ty had a feeling he was screwing this up. Big-time. "You got any hobbies? Something besides football?"
"You mean like my Xbox 360?"
Ty grinned. "Not exactly. I was just wondering if you like to read or build things."
"My dad says I'm supposed to focus on football. He says it's going to make us rich."
It was going to take every ounce of Ty's self-control to keep from rearranging Jack's father's face.
"Maybe. Maybe not. Getting rich in football depends on a lot of things."
Jack frowned, probably because it was the first time anyone had ever told him fame and fortune wasn't a sure thing. "Like what? I've got the skills."
"You do. But things happen. You could get drafted onto a Super Bowl-winning team."
Jack smirked like he already knew that was going to happen.
"Or you could get hurt, like some of the super-talented guys I knew in high school and college, and your career could end." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that."
Jack thrust his chin out. "That didn't happen to you. You're a huge star."
"I'm one of the lucky ones," Ty said, even as he wondered if he really was. "And I worry about getting hurt, about being taken out on a stretcher, every single game."
When he was younger and felt completely invincible, he'd never worried about the end of his career. But now, guys he'd played with since his rookie days were starting to retire. The ones with a plan for retirement did fine. But the guys who didn't have a single dream other than football just plain fell apart.
"Don't you have enough money to do whatever you want?"
"Sure," Ty conceded. "But money isn't everything."
Until Julie had come back into his life, Ty couldn't see the point in anything but football. Now he had new ideas. He'd just started thinking maybe one day he could open his own summer camp in Grass Valley, maybe for kids like him who didn't have money for fancy shoes and trust funds. They'd play football, but they'd learn other stuff too. Like fishing and how to start a campfire. Ty wanted to run the idea by Julie, see what she thought.
"Your life has to be about more than football, kid," Ty said, deciding it was time to get straight to the point. "It doesn't matter if everyone else treats you like a god. One day someone is going to come along who shows you what a screwup you really are. And you're not going to be able to fix it, because the only thing you'll know how to do is play football."
Jack didn't say anything and he wasn't making eye contact anymore.
"I'm not trying to make you feel bad," Ty said. "And I'll still talk to your dad. I just want you to think about what I'm saying."
Jack jumped off the bench. "I'm going to be the greatest football player in history! I'm going to leave you in the dust. You don't know anything!"
Julie ran outside. "What's happening? Is your arm hurting, Jack? Do you need to see the doctor again?"
Ty had never seen such a hard
face on a little kid. Except maybe his own in the mirror.
"I want to go home," Jack whined.
Julie nodded and gave him her keys. "Go ahead and wait in the car. I need to talk to Ty for a sec."
She turned on him. "What did you say to him? He looked like he was about to cry."
Ty willed her to understand. "Trust me, it was stuff he needed to hear."
"He's just a little boy, Ty. You hurt his feelings."
"I had my reasons for what I said to the kid."
"Go ahead," she said, her eyes challenging him. "Tell me your reasons. I'm dying to hear them."
But everything was hitting too close to home. He didn't want to talk about it right now, didn't want to bare his soul in front of a restaurant with Jack waiting in the parking lot.
"Don't push me," he growled. Julie needed to back off long enough for him to get a grip.
Her expression went from concerned to confused to cold in a millisecond. "You know what? I can't think of one single reason you could have for making a sweet little boy cry."
"Not even one, huh?"
Everything in him wanted to get down on his knees and explain the truth to her, that things weren't how she thought they were. But he'd done that before and it hadn't made a lick of difference. Julie had her mind made up. He was guilty as charged.
She moved toward him, her cheeks red, her blue eyes full of anger. "I was so stupid I actually thought you'd changed. That you could be a man for once, instead of the self-absorbed little boy you always were."
A slow anger began to burn inside of Ty, a fire stoked by every person who had ever doubted he could be more than a football player, by everyone who'd thought they could take advantage of a poor dumb kid like him.
"You want to know why your dates aren't interested in you, babe?" He watched the word babe hit her across the face like a hard slap, along with more he didn't mean, but somehow couldn't stop from saying. "Because guys don't like the third degree. You can't run a relationship like a business. And it's time to get it into your pretty little head that what went down between me and Jack is none of your damn business."