Take a Chance

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  For a while there, after their mother’s cancer diagnosis, their father’s descent into depression, and with the stress of the move, Kurt had been afraid that his brother wasn’t going to be able to ever laugh like that again.

  A sense of peace filled him. No matter what the future held for them, this moment was real good. Worth a lot of grief just to have it.

  CHAPTER 20

  FROM LES LARKE’S

  TIPS FOR BEGINNING POKER PLAYERS:

  Don’t play when you’re mad, sad, or in a generally bad mood. Other players will notice this and take advantage of your weaknesses. Plus, playing poker this way won’t lift your spirits.

  “You babysitting on Saturday night?” Sam asked Kayla as they walked through the front lobby of Bridgeport High.

  Kayla smiled at him, then felt a burst of satisfaction fill her as she noticed more than one girl looked their way with an envious expression. She actually couldn’t blame them, since everyone considered them a real couple now. One of her girlfriends said they even looked like they were meant to be together.

  She wasn’t sure if they looked like a match or not. Today, she was in her cheer uniform because it was game day. Sam was in his usual jeans, tight T-shirt, and brown cowboy boots. He’d just gotten another haircut, so his brown hair was cut real short, almost like a military cut. It suited him though. So did his tan. He looked as gorgeous as ever.

  He was also carrying her laptop and chemistry book.

  It was sweet. She’d never seen another boy carry her girlfriends’ books. The first time he’d tried to do it, she’d tried to stop him, explaining that no one did that here at Bridgeport. Sam had looked real surprised, then shrugged and took her things anyway. She’d learned right then and there that Sam Holland didn’t put a whole lot of stock in what everybody else did. He did what he wanted. End of story.

  She was starting to imagine that he must have been a heartbreaker back at his old school. He was smart, crazy handsome, he’d played on his old school’s football team, and did things like carry his girlfriend’s books.

  She didn’t know how she’d gotten so lucky.

  His pace slowed. “Kay, do you know your schedule for Saturday yet?”

  “Hmm? Oh, sorry. No. I’m not babysitting.” She smiled at him. Waiting.

  But instead of smiling like he was pleased, he looked worried. “All right, then.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why. I want to see you.”

  “Then why are you looking like something’s wrong?”

  He swallowed. “It’s just that I wanted to take you to the movies.”

  A dark theater next to Sam? She couldn’t resist smiling. “That sounds good. I like movies.”

  If anything, her response seemed to make him more uncomfortable. “I’ve been so busy with school I haven’t been able to work as much as usual. I don’t have a lot of extra money.”

  He’d also taken her out to eat twice last week. “Would you like to come over and watch movies in our family room?”

  “You’d be okay with that?”

  “I’m fine with it. I don’t want you spending all your money on me, Sam.”

  He still didn’t look convinced. “Your parents won’t mind if I’m over for a couple of hours?”

  “Sam, you know my mother loves you. She’s told me twice that you’re the most polite boy she’s ever met in her life. She’ll be glad we’re at my house.” Lowering her voice, she added, “She’s probably going to be happy that she can check on us every twenty minutes.” Which would be better than her annoying sister joining them.

  He stopped in front of her class. Lowering his voice, he leaned close. “It will be hard to keep my hands off you, but I’ll try.”

  She laughed. So far they hadn’t done anything but kiss a few times. She knew he’d never try anything at her house anyway. “Let’s plan on it then. I’ll let my parents know.” Glancing into her classroom, she realized almost everyone was already sitting down. “I better go in.”

  “Here’s your books. I better get on, too.”

  “See you after school? I don’t have to be back here until 5:30.” Even when Sam didn’t drive her home, he still met her at her locker.

  “Oh.” A shadow slipped in his expression again. “I’ve got to meet with Miss Springer.”

  “Will you be meeting with her long? If not, I could wait and you could take me home.” She smiled. “I’ll even treat you to some fries if you want.”

  “That sounds great, but, um, I don’t know how long I’m gonna be. I’ll call you later. Or I’ll see you at the game, okay?”

  “Oh. All right.” He was acting weird. If he hadn’t just asked her about Saturday night, she would’ve thought he was mad at her.

  “I better get to class. See you, Kay.” He turned away before she could kiss his cheek, something she’d recently started doing that he thought was kind of cute.

  “Yeah, see you,” she murmured as she watched him walk away. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong with him.

  ***

  It was just as well that Sam hadn’t been able to give her a ride home because her coach had ended up calling an emergency practice because Missy was sick and so all of their formations had to be changed.

  Luckily, they’d done stuff like this before and were done within forty-five minutes. And, thank goodness, Megan offered to give her a ride home.

  “Thanks for the ride,” she said as they climbed into her sporty little VW Bug.

  “It’s no problem, though where is Sam? I thought he was your permanent ride now.”

  “He said he had to meet with a teacher. I guess it took a while.”

  Megan gripped her steering wheel tighter. “I bet they wanted to talk to him about how smart he is or something.”

  “What are you talking about?” She knew Sam scored real high on his SATs and a couple of other standardized tests—he’d shared that with her during one of their first conversations—but she didn’t think his big brain was common knowledge.

  “Caroline sat next to him in physics. She said he finished most of the work first but tried not to make a big deal about it.”

  “How did she know what he was doing? Was she watching him or something?” A sharp pang of jealousy hit her hard. Caroline was everything she wasn’t. Confident and model-in-a-magazine pretty. Plus she had money so she wasn’t always scrambling around to make ends meet—or letting her boyfriend pay for all her meals.

  Was that what was wrong? Was Sam thinking she was taking advantage of him?

  Megan laughed. “You are so whipped.”

  “Maybe.” She smiled with a shrug. “I guess I am.”

  “I knew it. You are in love with your brainiac boyfriend.”

  There it was again. “Megan, what exactly happened in physics? I need to know, ’cause if it was bad, Sam will never tell me.”

  “Fine. Mr. Wexler started making a big deal about it. Caro said he made such a fuss that the whole class was embarrassed for Sam.”

  “Ugh. Mr. Wexler is creepy. Poor Sam.”

  “Yeah. Even the regular brownnosers felt bad for him. But Caroline said that your boyfriend just shrugged it off like it was no big deal.”

  A burst of happiness filled her again. That was Sam, she was discovering. He took everything in stride. “He’s so great.”

  Megan grinned. “You are so into him.”

  “I can’t help it.” “You are so lucky,” she gushed. “He seems like the best boyfriend.”

  “He is. He’s coming over on Saturday night to watch movies.”

  “I would say that was boring, but it sounds perfect.”

  “Yeah. It does.” She just hoped she wasn’t imagining that they were closer than they really were. Or that she hadn’t done something that he didn’t like.

  All the sudden, every
little insecurity she had came out sharp and painful. What if he wasn’t thinking she was as perfect for him? What if he was starting to wish she was in a bunch of AP classes, too?

  As Megan pulled down her street, she looked worried. “Hey, I didn’t say anything wrong, did I? I mean, you don’t think I want him or anything?”

  “Of course not.”

  “So we’re good?”

  “Of course.” She pasted a smile on her face. It was one her mother would know was fake in a heartbeat but maybe Megan wouldn’t think anything about.

  When Megan started talking about their cheer routine and the latest schedule, Kayla pretended she cared about all that.

  But as she walked to her door, all she could think about was Sam. Something was bothering him. Something pretty big. Somehow, someway, she was going to have to figure out how to get him to tell her what it was.

  CHAPTER 21

  “Money won is twice as sweet as money earned.”

  —Paul Newman

  in The Color of Money

  By the time Sam walked out of Miss Springer’s classroom at four thirty, he was thinking he should call up Anton and apologize to him. Back home, Anton had always been teased because he couldn’t read as well as everyone else.

  When they were small, Anton used to break out in a cold sweat when their teacher made him read out loud. Later, he was always in the remedial classes and had been called all kinds of names.

  Course, that had all changed when they’d gotten into eighth grade. Anton had gotten huge and was a starter on both the basketball and football teams. Then, nobody was going to tease him about anything.

  Sam had almost forgotten about Anton’s problems in school. In his circle of friends, nobody went around discussing grades or report cards anyway. Other stuff mattered, like the fact that Anton had been the first in his group to letter in a sport. When he’d shown up in his new jacket, Sam had been as jealous as all get out.

  But now, after sitting and struggling and feeling like half the school knew he was having to get extra help, Sam felt like calling up his buddy and apologizing for never offering to help the guy.

  ***

  “How did it go?” Kurt asked as he walked in the door at six that night.

  Sam had just pulled up directions on his phone for how to mash potatoes. He was going to learn how to cook something decent if it killed him.

  “All right.” Thinking about how easygoing Miss Springer had been, Sam added, “Miss Springer said my only problem was my familiarity with the words. So every week she’s going to give me a list of words that I gotta learn, then when we’re together we have to have a conversation where we use them.”

  “Sounds easy enough.”

  “Yeah. There’s a heck of a lot of words she wants me to learn, though. I don’t know how we’re going to talk about anything that makes sense.”

  “You’ll figure it out.”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

  “So, what are you doing now?”

  Sam held up his phone, showing off the screen. “I’m trying to figure out how to fix potatoes.”

  Kurt opened a drawer, pulled out two potatoes, and set them on the counter. “All you do is wash them, poke a couple of holes in them, and put them in the oven for an hour.”

  “I want them mashed.”

  “Then you boil the heck out of ’em and add a bunch of milk and butter.”

  “The last time we tried that they turned into paste.”

  Kurt frowned. “Yeah. I guess they were pretty bad.” When his gaze drifted to the package of chicken breasts, he smiled. “You cooking tonight?”

  “Trying to.”

  “What are you going to do to the chicken?”

  “I’m grilling that.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “Nothing. Just figured I’d start helping out more. Plus, I’m starving. I want something before I go to the game.”

  “Huh.” His brother watched him for a moment before walking over to the kitchen sink and scrubbing his hands. “What are your plans for Saturday?”

  “I’m seeing Kayla.”

  “What are y’all gonna do?”

  Hating how lame it sounded, Sam mumbled, “We’re going to watch movies at her house.”

  Grabbing a paper towel, Kurt looked at him curiously. “Kayla doesn’t want to go to the movies?”

  “I can’t afford it.”

  “You need money?” Kurt pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “I think I’ve got an extra fifty bucks.”

  “I don’t need it.”

  “You sure?” He walked closer. “You know, I just now realized that you haven’t been working much this week because of all your homework. Plus, you paid Miss Springer, right?”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t much.”

  “What did she charge? Only twenty bucks, right?”

  Sam nodded. Kurt told him that he and Miss Springer had argued about her getting paid to tutor Sam. They’d compromised on twenty dollars.

  Kurt rubbed his head like Sam was giving him a headache. “I should’ve given you some money. Like an allowance or something.”

  That made Sam feel like even more of a disappointment. “Because you got all kinds of money from Dad.”

  Kurt pulled his chin up. “You know Dad wasn’t giving me money.”

  “I don’t need any either. I’ll be fine.”

  “Sam, I’m gonna keep saying this until you get it, okay? Your life is supposed to be different than mine. I want it to be.”

  “I don’t want to mooch off you.”

  “Here in Bridgeport, I’m not just your brother, I’m your guardian.”

  “So?”

  “So that means you’ve got to listen to me some,” he said with exaggerated patience. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

  He was seventeen, not seven. “I’ll let you know if I need any cash, okay?”

  Kurt threw up his hands. “Fine. While you try not to burn the house down, I’m gonna go take a shower. I smell like crap.”

  When Sam was alone in the kitchen again, he leaned against the counter and tried to figure out what to do next. He needed to get better grades. He needed to figure out vocabulary. He needed to get some money so he wouldn’t lose Kayla.

  And he needed to do it all fast and without losing his brother’s respect.

  Too bad he didn’t have an idea about how to do any of that.

  CHAPTER 22

  FROM LES LARKE’S

  TIPS FOR BEGINNING POKER PLAYERS:

  Take the time to understand your position in the game. This will save you lots of costly mistakes.

  Emily knew something was wrong the moment she saw Kurt on her doorstep. She now knew him well enough to know that he was always respectful of her space and her time. He didn’t show up places without warning or do things on the spur of the moment.

  At least, she hadn’t thought so.

  But as she spied his haggard expression, Emily knew whatever he had come over to say wasn’t good. Feeling dread pool in the pit of her stomach, she opened the door to let him in.

  “I’d like to tell myself that you couldn’t wait to see me, but I don’t think that’s why you’re here,” she teased.

  “Hey, Emily.” He fussed with his ball cap then stuck it back on his head, now with the rim facing backward. “You’re not wrong. I have been wanting to see you …”

  “But …”

  He stuffed his hands in the back of his cargo shorts. “But yeah, you’re right, too. I’m sorry to show up out of the blue like this, but do you have a few minutes free? I think we need to talk.”

  “I have as many minutes as you need.” She waved a hand at her old college T-shirt and nylon shorts. “I was just looking for a reason to stop cleaning my shower.” When he didn’t smile at her artless
comment, Emily ushered him in. “Want to come sit down in the living room?”

  She started walking, dread filling her with every step. Was he here to break things off with her? She didn’t know why he’d want to do that, but she couldn’t think of another reason he would have shown up at her door looking as agitated as he did.

  Kurt followed. His footsteps were slow. It was almost like he was trying to put off whatever he’d come over to talk about.

  “Have a seat. Would you like a glass of water or something?”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  When he perched on the edge of the couch, every bit of his body looking tense, she said, “My mom always told me that it was better to get the hard stuff over with. So, um, whatever you have to say? Just spit it out.” She sat down across from him and braced herself.

  He took a deep breath and fisted his hands on his knees, then, right before her eyes, seemed to center himself. When he finally spoke, his drawl was coating his words like a thick slab of peanut butter. “I really like you, Emily.”

  Emily was so surprised, she almost laughed. “I like you, too.” She smiled at him as she leaned back in her chair. “Boy, you had me going there for a minute. I thought you’d come over here to tell me you found someone new to date.”

  “No, that ain’t it at all,” he blurted, his accent thick. He frowned. Rubbed the scruff on his cheek. “Actually, I can’t think of another woman I would ever want to spend so much time with. I think about you all the time.”

  His words were sweet and artless. So frank and bare, she was half ready to go tackle him on the couch. But what wasn’t sweet was his expression. He was looking like his dog had just died. “Thinking about me is good, right?”

  “Yeah. But not really.”

  “Maybe you could explain that a little bit?”

  “I’m trying, but this sucks. Here’s the deal, Emily. I do like you. I do think about you a lot. One day soon, I’d like us to see each other exclusively.”

  “One day soon?” Her stomach was now in knots. Kurt’s words and emotions were all over the place and she was having a heck of a time keeping up. “What’s wrong with now?”