Going the Distance by John Goode

more, but he was waiting for me to say something. After a few seconds I asked, “How many?”
    He looked confused now. “How many what?”
    “How many freshmen were invited this year?”
    “Including you?” I nodded. “One.” His smile said it all.
    I looked at my dad, whose face was as unreadable as a bar of soap. I looked back to the guy. “How much does it cost?”
    “We can afford it,” my dad stated. I looked at him because the tone of his voice was sterner than normal. “ If you’re serious about it.”
    “I am,” I answered quickly. And all of a sudden, I was babbling. “I really am. I was already worried how I was going to stay in shape this summer. I don’t know anyone who plays so I was just going to try to find pickup games.” His expression didn’t waver. “Please, Dad! I want to do this.” Nothing. “I need to do this.” More nothing.
    “We do need to know quickly,” the man said, gathering up his stuff. “The spots are extremely limited.”
    My eyes widened as I silently begged my dad.
    My dad stood with the man. “He’s in.”
    I tried not to jump up and cheer as they shook hands. “Excellent!” Mr. O’Keefe said as he dug in his briefcase and handed my dad a large envelope. “Here is the admission packet. Send it in by the end of the week, and you’ll receive a registration packet in the mail.” The man looked at me and then looked up higher to meet my gaze. “You have a gift, Danny.” He held out his hand. “We look forward to helping it flourish.”
    I probably almost squeezed his hand off as I pumped his arm up and down and gushed, “Thank you so much, Mr. O’Keefe! This is a dream come true! I won’t let you guys down!”
    He laughed as he extracted his hand and rubbed the blood back into his white fingers. “Trust me, son, just show up and play as well as I saw you this season, and you won’t let anyone down.” He tried to get around me, but I didn’t register it. I was much too busy gushing and babbling mentally.
    “Danny,” my dad said in a low voice, “let the man out. You’re blocking the door.” I scrambled out of the way, and they both smiled at me. “Thank you, sir.” I followed them the few steps to the front door because I didn’t have a clue what else to do.
    The man shook his head as my dad opened the door. “No, Danny. Thank you.”
    I had never been so damn happy in my entire life. Dad stepped out of the house to have a few words with Mr. O’Keefe, while I stood in the entry, smiling and then really smiling. When Dad came back inside, he slipped by me and headed to the kitchen, no doubt wanting to be safe when everything that had just happened sank in.
    I finally exploded in exhilaration, letting off several whoops of absolute joy as I danced around the living room like a maniac. My dad sat at the kitchen table thumbing through the papers, no doubt learning all he could about it before he put a pen to paper. I stopped midleap and looked over at him. “Where is it?”
    “Florida,” he answered, not looking up from his reading.
    “I’m going to Florida to learn basketball?” I asked myself out loud, completely blown away by just the thought.
    “Looks that way,” he said, turning one paper over and examining the fine print on it in detail.
    I instantly went back to dancing. “I’m going to Florida! I’m going to Florida!”
    This went on for some time. Possibly two days.
    Over an hour later, I had settled down and was sitting across from my dad, looking at the paperwork as well, as we waited for the pizza to arrive. I was scanning over the pictures of the guys who were pictured playing the game in years past when my dad put the papers down and looked over at me. I glanced back over the paper I was browsing and waited for him to say we needed to talk. “So we need to talk.”
    I tried not to smile as I put the paper down.
    “I am not accusing you of anything, and I don’t want you to think you’re in trouble.” And that feeling