Free the Big Time (2010) by Tim Green Page B

live just outside the wall,” Troy said, pointing in the general direction of their house.
    â€œWall?”
    â€œThere’s a wall around the club,” Troy said. “We live in the pinewoods just outside. It’s nice. I got a tire to throw footballs through.”
    â€œAnd she’s there?” his father asked.
    Troy nodded.
    â€œBut, how’d you get here ?” his father asked.
    Troy waved his hand toward where he’d scaled the wall and said, “Just walked. I knew where G Money’s house was.”
    Drew looked at his watch, then at Troy, and asked, “And she’s okay with this? Walked, as in climbed-the-wall walked? Or you walked all the way around? Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”
    Troy’s mouth fell open.
    â€œTroy,” his father said, leaning toward him with all of the friendliness draining from his face, “don’t even tell me that your mom doesn’t know you’re here.”
    â€œWhy?” Troy said, laughing nervously. “It’s no big deal.”
    His father shook his head and said, “Oh, yes it is.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
    â€œ BUT,” TROY SAID, HIS voice barely rising above the muted chatter of the nearby cardplayers, “you said you wanted to see me.”
    â€œAnd I do,” his father said, nodding his head, “but not like this, not sneaking around. No, wait. Don’t drop your head like that. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that I don’t want her to ruin it. If we give her an excuse to act out—any excuse—she’ll use it. There are reasons I didn’t stay with her, Troy, and none of it had anything to do with you. Like I said, I didn’t even know about you.”
    Troy studied his father’s face: the brown eyes flecked with shards as black as tar. They whirled like hypnotic tops. Troy thought of the annoying things his mom could do, the way she managed him like a circus tiger:cutting him off; making him sit, roll over, and jump through hoops of fire. She claimed it was all for his own good, but he knew how any little deviation from the rules, any misstep, led to consequences that were always severe.
    â€œI know what you mean,” Troy said.
    His father put a hand on Troy’s shoulder and squeezed. “So, here’s what we do. We get you back before she knows you’re gone, and then we do this thing right.”
    â€œBut you’re leaving tomorrow,” Troy said.
    His father’s grin reappeared, and he tilted his head. “I was supposed to, but if you think I’m leaving without getting this straightened out, you’ve got another think coming. Troy, do you realize how excited I am to have a son? Forget about how great a football player you are and this football genius thing. I’ve always wanted someone to go hunting and fishing and to ball games with—all that stuff.”
    Troy felt his heart swell.
    â€œCome on,” his dad said, rising from their seat, “let me drive you home. I can let you off on the street, where she won’t even see us together.”
    Troy shook his head and said, “Honestly, it’s better for me to just go back the way I came. Once I get over the wall, it’s a shorter walk than if you let me off at the top of my driveway.”
    â€œWhatever works,” his father said.
    â€œYou could help me out, if you don’t mind,” Troy said. “Maybe drive me to the back of the development. If you’re with me, I won’t have to worry about the security guards.”
    â€œGuards? You mean G Money’s guards?” his father asked.
    â€œNo, the Cotton Wood guards,” Troy said.
    His father raised his eyebrows. They stopped to say good-bye to G Money, and the rapper told Troy’s dad to hurry because he wanted to win back his money. Troy climbed into the front seat of the Porsche next to his father. The smooth leather and green,