Free Hero by Mike Lupica Page B

since his dad died.
    Zach and Kate planned to take the Lexington Avenue subway down to the library, then just walk the rest of the way to the Garden. After the game they were going to stop at the ESPN Zone in Times Square, have a soda, maybe go to the third floor and play some of the games.
    It was when they were about to walk down the steps at the 68th Street station, the Hunter College stop, that Zach told her. Having waited as long as he could.
    “I need a favor,” he said. “A big one. Gi-gundo, in fact.”
    “You got it,” Kate said.
    She had her hair in a ponytail that came out through the opening of her favorite Knicks trucker cap. He knew she was wearing her David Lee No. 42 jersey under her parka.
    “You might not want to say that when you know what the favor is.”
    “Don’t have to know.”
    “Okay, then I need you to cover for me,” he said. “I’m not going downtown with you. I’m going to take the Jitney out to Montauk.”
    She pulled her cap down so low he could barely see her face now.
    “But your mom said no,” Kate said.
    “I know.”
    “And you’re going anyway?”
    “Yeah.”
    She looked up and surprised him then. “I’m going with you.”
    “You don’t want me to go any more than my mom does.”
    “But if you’re going, and I can see you’re fixed on going or you wouldn’t have given me hardly any time to talk you out of this, then I’m not letting you go alone.”
    “Thank you,” Zach said. “But no.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because the more I’ve thought about it, I’m almost glad Mom said no, ’cause this is something I need to do alone,” he said. “So just cover for me. Please, Katie. If I catch the next bus, I can get out there and get back by the time we’re due home.”
    She shook her head. “We could go together and get back together and it’d be pretty much the same deal.”
    Zach grinned. “I know you can out-debate me on stuff. Most stuff. Just don’t out-debate me today, okay?”
    “What if you get back late? Then what do I tell your mom?”
    “You’re Kate the Great,” he said. “You’ll think of something.”
    She said, “You don’t have to do this even though you think you do. You can call it off right now and we can get on the train.”
    “No,” he said. “I do have to do it. But I can’t without your help.”
    “Just because I don’t agree with you doesn’t mean I’m not with you.” She pulled her cell out of the side pocket of her parka and held it up, like she was trying to sell it to him. “Four bars, fully charged,” she said. “I want calls or texts throughout the day. You don’t make a move out there without me knowing about it. Understood?”
    He nodded. “I know better than to cross you,” he said. “It’s worse than crossing Jack Bauer.”
    “Go get on the bus,” she said.
    He did.
     
    There was hardly any traffic going out on a Saturday morning and the Jitney was only half full, which made it seem even more quiet than usual. People were sleeping or reading or listening to their iPods. Zach had the longest trip, all the way to Montauk, about three hours out with no bad traffic.
    It meant a six-hour round-trip. Plenty of time for him to get back to the city, meet up with Kate, be home for dinner the way they’d promised.
    In the past he’d sometimes fallen asleep on the Jitney. But today he was too wired, wanting the driver to go faster, wanting to be out there right now. He looked out the window once they were on the Long Island Expressway, watched the exit signs go by way too slowly, Douglaston and Great Neck, Melville, Commack, Port Jefferson and Yaphank.
    When the bus got off at Exit 70, Zach knew it was just about an hour from there to the last stop in Montauk. They made their way on Route 27 through all the towns Zach knew by heart, all the stops before Portugal. East Hampton finally gave way to Amagansett. He was close now, feeling it without having to look at any signs.
    He had brought money with him.