The Big Time

CHAPTER SEVEN

" WHOA," SHE SAID. "I know you took some shots in that game, but I didn't know it scrambled your brains completely."

"Why couldn't I?" Troy asked. "He seemed like a good guy."

"Troy, you met the man for about three minutes," Tate said.

"He had a pretty nice car," Troy said, then quickly added, "and he got into Cotton Wood because he said he had a client there. He must be pretty legit to have a client in Cotton Wood. Those people are all rich."

"You know what I'm saying," Tate said, stopping on the tracks. "Where are we going, Troy?"

"I don't know," Troy said. "The bridge?"

"It's pitch-black," Tate said with a shiver. "And it's cold. I don't want to go far. You should go home. Really, you can't just run away. Think about it. I know you're mad. I know you want to see your dad."

"I will see my dad," Troy said.

Tate nodded her head. "I think so, too."

"You do?"

"Yes," Tate said. "He's your dad, Troy. He looks like you, and if he acts anything like you at all, then he's not just going to disappear. But you go home now, Troy. Trust me."

Troy gripped Tate's arm. "I do trust you, Tate. I know that no matter what, I can count on you. Best friends?"

"Best friends forever," Tate said, grinning.

Suddenly there was a noise in the bushes along the tracks: snapping branches and a guttural growling. Troy felt his heart jump into his throat.

"Oh my God," Tate said. "What is it?"

A figure burst out of the underbrush and bolted up the railway bed.

"Sheesh," Nathan said, swiping sweat from his brow. "Talk about a third wheel. All this best-friends stuff and I'm not even in on it?"

Then Nathan laughed to show he wasn't serious, and they joined him.

"You scared the stuffing out of me," Tate said. "Why are you crawling through the bushes?"

"My dad stayed late to help Seth pick up after the party, and I saw you guys disappearing around the building when we pulled in," Nathan said. "I had to go out through my bedroom window, and I took the shortcut to catch you. What's up?"

Troy told Nathan what had happened. He nodded and agreed that Troy should go home.

"We all should," Tate said. "You okay, Troy?"

Troy nodded, and they all said good-bye. By the time he slipped in through the front door, the clock on the wall showed that it was just before one. He took a deep breath and tiptoed across the floor. With his mom, it was always best to work through things in the morning. Without putting on the lights, Troy crept down the short hall to his bedroom, eased the door shut behind him, then flipped on the light. He breathed easier, smug with his strategy.

Then he turned around, and screamed.