The Walk On (26 page)

“To say that was a great win is an understatement …,” he said. They started to whoop but he put his hand up again and they stopped.

“You overcame a 17–0 deficit, remarkable under any circumstances, especially against a very good team. You did it after
two
quarterbacks got hurt. Defense, what an amazing
job you guys did shutting their offense down when it mattered most—especially on that fourth down play. Gerry, no one’s a bigger hero than you tonight—no matter what anyone outside this locker room says.”

They cheered lustily for Detwiler. Alex agreed with what Coach Gordon had said: the final drive couldn’t have happened if Detwiler hadn’t tackled Spears short of the first down marker on King of Prussia’s final offensive play.

Coach Gordon turned in the direction of Buddy Thomas, who flipped a football to him. “Every one of you deserves a game ball tonight—I mean that. For right now, though, we’re going to give three.” He tossed the ball to Detwiler.

“That first one is for you, Gerry, and everyone in here knows why.”

More cheers. Detwiler smiled and held the ball over his head for a moment.

Buddy tossed Coach Gordon a second ball. “This second one is for Ellington, if only because he’s dumb enough to listen to what a freshman quarterback tells him to do with the game on the line!”

More cheers as Coach Gordon flipped the ball to Jonas. He just grinned happily.

Buddy tossed one more ball to Coach Gordon.

“And the last one …” He paused for dramatic effect. “I’m not sure who to give the last one to.”

Everyone began hooting and a chant began—somewhere in the back of the room. “Goldie, Goldie, Goldie!”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Coach Gordon said. “Myers, I swear that was the dumbest, smartest, bravest call I’ve ever seen.

I’m honestly not sure right now whether I want to cut you or kiss you. For now, I’ll settle for this.”

He tossed the ball to Alex, who caught it and then was buried as the “Goldie, Goldie” chant began again.

Once the celebrating abated, everyone showered and dressed quickly. It was Friday night. The older guys would probably be going out. Most of the younger ones had family waiting for them outside. Alex had looked at his cell phone as he started to take off his uniform and it was filled with texts. The only one he read was from his mom.

WOW!
it said.
We’re waiting outside. How soon do you think?

He quickly wrote back,
15 minutes
, and headed for the shower.

It was closer to twenty-five by the time everyone had come up one more time to tell him how great he had been. When he walked outside, there were still several reporters who wanted to talk to him. Coach Brotman had warned him and told him it was up to him whether he talked more or not.

“Can you give me a minute to go see my mom and sister?” he asked.

They all seemed okay with that.

Even forty-five minutes after the game had ended, there were people everywhere. Finally he heard his mom’s voice somewhere in the crowd, calling, “Alex, we’re here.”

At first he saw only a hand waving, but as he walked in the direction of the voice, people parted—all backslapping him as he went—to let him through. There was his mom and there was Molly. And standing a few steps away was someone else: his dad.

He hugged his mom and Molly and then stared at his father.

“When did you get here?” he asked as his father shook his hand. They had never hugged very much in the past, so Alex didn’t think to hug him now.

“Believe it or not, at halftime,” his dad said, smiling. “I guess I brought you luck.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Alex heard a voice say.

He turned and there, leaning on his crutches, was Matt Gordon.

“Glad you could make it, Mr. Myers,” he said, putting his hand out. “We were all beginning to think you were a figment of Alex’s imagination.”

Alex wasn’t sure who was more stunned by Matt’s crack—Alex, his mom, or his dad. Only Molly seemed oblivious.

“Nice to meet you too,” Alex’s dad said. “I hope you’re not too badly hurt.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks,” Matt said. “Couple weeks. As long as Goldie’s healthy, we’ll be fine.”

“Goldie?” his dad said.

“They call him Goldie for his golden arm,” his mom explained, and Alex gaped at her—stunned that she knew.

Matt put his hand out to Alex. “I’m proud of you,” he said. “I knew you were going to be good, but honestly, I never dreamed you’d be this good this fast.”

“Thanks,” Alex said. And then, gingerly, because he wanted to, he hugged Matt.

Matt waved goodbye and limped off to talk to some friends.

“Well, I guess this calls for a celebration,” Dave Myers said. “I know it’s late.…”

“It’s okay, we’ve got the whole weekend.”

“Actually, we don’t,” his dad said sheepishly. “I have to be in Washington tomorrow for some meetings. I’m sorry. I just thought driving through to see the game and get a few hours with you and Molly was worth the effort.”

Effort? Alex wondered about that. Driving to DC with a stop in Philadelphia on the way wasn’t exactly a major effort.

“Dave, why don’t you take the kids to eat,” Alex’s mom said. “Maybe you can go someplace where you can sit and talk for a while.”

“Good idea,” Alex’s dad said. “Okay?” He looked at Molly.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she said. But the look on her face told Alex that she hadn’t known it was a drive-by visit.

“Great, then,” his dad said. “My rental car’s a few blocks away because I got here late. Maybe Mom can drop us off there.”

“Rental car?” said Alex.

“Yeah, I rented a car because I’m flying back from DC on Sunday.

“Oh. So it
didn’t
seem worth the effort to stop and see your kids on the way home.”

The words came out of Alex’s mouth before he could stop them. And a silence opened up between them because no one really knew
what
to say.…

Meanwhile, a steady stream of people were patting Alex on the back, saying, “Way to go” and “Great game” and “Have a great weekend.”

Then Jonas came over, laughing and full of the excitement
for the win. “There you are, Alex!” he said. “The whole team’s going to this party. We gotta go—we’re the heroes of the hour! Jake can give us a ride if you come right now.…”

Alex looked from his father to Jonas and back again. Hero of the party or dinner with a drive-by dad? No contest.

“I’ll see you later, Dad.”

As it turned out, there were four people in Jake’s car for the ride over to the party: Jake, Alex, Jonas, and Christine Whitford.

“You get all your work done?” Jake asked Christine.

“It was easy tonight,” Christine said. “Everyone was very willing to talk.”

Christine offered Alex the front seat, but he turned it down. When they got to the party, Jake didn’t even ask Christine what she wanted to drink. He just said, “I’ll get us drinks,” and disappeared.

Before Alex could decide whether to ask Christine if they were dating, he and Jonas were swallowed by admirers. Alex spent most of the evening sitting on a couch recreating the final drive while people hung on his every word. At one point he noticed that Hope Alexander was sitting right next to him while April Lowenthal, who wasn’t nearly
as tall as Hope but at least as pretty, was on the other side. Jonas looked to be getting the same kind of attention.

He knew he had come a long way from the day when Mr. O wouldn’t even look up at him while shoving the number 23 practice jersey at him. Still, he wondered what his dad was doing. And he hoped Molly had gone out to eat with him.

When Alex got home, it was well after midnight. His mom was still up, clearly waiting for him. She asked if he wanted to talk.

“Maybe later,” he said.

“You sure?”

“Completely sure,” he answered. “I’m really tired, and I don’t
know
what I think about what’s going on with Dad.”

She nodded. “To be fair to your father, I’m not sure he understands what’s going on right now either.”

That actually sounded right.…

“Yeah,” he said. “I think. Good night.”

He turned to walk upstairs. “Hey, Goldie,” she said.

He stopped and saw her grinning.

“Congratulations,” she said. “You got to show everyone what you can do tonight.”

He smiled back at her. “Night, Mom.”

He walked upstairs and fell into bed a few minutes later. In spite of the confusing thoughts about his father and the adrenaline still pumping from the game, he was asleep in no time.

Moments later, he heard his cell phone buzzing and rolled over in bed. He was stunned when he looked at the clock on
the night table and saw that it was nine-fifteen. He’d been asleep for more than eight hours!

He picked up the phone and at the top of the lengthy list of texts saw one from a familiar number: Christine Whitford’s.

Stark’s 11:30?
was all it said.

It occurred to him that in all the commotion at the party he hadn’t seen Christine or Jake again. Jonas’s mom had come and picked them up, so he had no idea if they had still been there when he left.

He sat up in bed and thought about it for a moment: Coach Gordon had lifted the media ban the night before, so talking to her now was almost certainly okay. He wondered if he should call someone to be sure.

He decided against it. He remembered something he had read once: sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. The fact was, he wanted to see her.

He texted back:
OK
.

He started to add a sentence but decided against it. No need to appear overeager. Or overly curious about her relationship with Jake.

His mom had taken Molly to her soccer game, so he made himself a bowl of cereal and then read the
Philadelphia Inquirer
that his mom had left on the kitchen table so he couldn’t miss it. Below the fold of the front page of the sports section was a picture of Matt, on his crutches, hugging Alex on the field after the game. The caption said, “Injured Chester Heights quarterback Matt Gordon celebrates with backup Alex Myers after the Lions’ stunning comeback win over King of Prussia Friday night. Details: D-4.”

Alex turned quickly to D-4 and there, at the top of the
high school page, was the headline:
FRESHMAN QB SHOCKS KING OF PRUSSIA IN FINAL SECONDS
. Below the headline was another photo, this one of Jonas catching the final touchdown pass. The story was written by Andrew Bogusch.

Alex had been smiling until he got to the words
quarterback controversy
. That was the last thing in the world he wanted—which was a strange realization. He’d come here wanting to prove he should be the starter. Now it was all more complicated.