Perfect Season by Tim Green Page B

you don’t work like a champion. And champions? Well, they run until they puke. That’s just part of it, right, Nick?”
    Everyone chuckled at Big Nick Lee.
    â€œBring it in for a break.” Seth held up a fist for everyone to reach for. “‘Work like champions’ on three. One, two, three—”
    â€œWork like champions!” the team shouted. Then they began to disperse like weary soldiers after a long battle.
    As they walked off the field, Seth leaned close to Troy and spoke in a whisper. “See? You can get just as much work done on second team as you can on the first. It’ll all work out. You did great.”
    â€œThanks,” Troy said. He saw Grant Reed walking in front of them and wished Seth had only spoken the words a little louder so that jerk could have heard.
    Chuku fell in alongside them, all smiles. “How was that?”
    Seth put a hand on Chuku’s shoulder. “Very nice, my friend. You earned your signing bonus tonight.”
    Chuku laughed at the joke, and only Troy noticed when Grant Reed glanced back at them with a mean smile that told Troy he had heard what Seth said.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
    CHUKU’S SIGNED JULIO JONES and Matt Ryan game jerseys arrived the next day at Troy’s house. With Tate looking over his shoulder, Troy tore open the box and pulled out the Julio jersey before he noticed that the chunky UPS man was holding out a pen, waiting for him to sign for the package. Troy took it and scribbled his name on the paper attached to the clipboard.
    The UPS man’s gray handlebar mustache twitched as he spoke. “That’s some jersey. Signed and everything, huh.”
    â€œGame-worn. Matt Ryan, too.” Troy held up the second jersey, proud of his work. “You know Seth Halloway, the Falcons’ linebacker?”
    â€œYeah, he’s the coach here now. I saw that in the paper.”
    â€œHe got these from the team. Everyone in Atlanta loves Seth.”
    â€œYou’re a lucky guy.” The UPS man nodded at the jerseys. “The real thing.”
    â€œYeah, they are the real deal.” Troy admired it. “Not for me, though I wish they were. No, these belong to my man Chuku Moore, payment in full.”
    â€œWell,” the UPS man said as he put the pen into the shirt pocket of his brown uniform and turned to go, “it’s a good day to be Chuku Moore, then, right?”
    Troy thanked the driver and went inside. The truck ground its gears and trundled off down the street.
    â€œWhy did you say that?” Tate asked.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œâ€˜Payment in full.’ I don’t know, Troy.” Tate shook her head. “That didn’t sound good.”
    Troy snorted. “Payment from me to Chuku.”
    â€œI know that,” Tate said, “and you know that, but that guy doesn’t.”
    â€œYou know, Tate.” Troy growled a bit. “Sometimes you just overthink things. You think that guy even knows who Chuku Moore is?”
    â€œNot now he doesn’t,” she said. “But if what you want to happen really happens—I mean, you guys turning this football team around—everyone in this town is going to know Chuku Moore.”
    Troy bit the inside of his lip to keep from saying something mean. After all, Tate had her father to worry about. Still, it made him mad.
    It made him mad because he knew Tate was right.
    He’d been stupid.

CHAPTER FORTY
    THAT EVENING THEY DIDN’T have practice. It was a good thing because it was the night of the Helena concert. Tate had tried to convince Troy to take Ty instead of her, but Troy just wasn’t going to do that. He hadn’t even spoken to his cousin since the day at the beach.
    â€œYou guys are going to have to talk. The whole thing is tearing Ty up. You guys are family, Troy.” Tate held up her phone as if Ty were on the other end of the line.
    It annoyed Troy, the amount of texting back and forth