Foster went out with the rest of the team to warm up. They seemed to be taking to him pretty well. I guess it’s because Foster was just about as nonthreatening as it got; he was small, he was inexperienced, and he wasn’t about to take time from anybody on the field. Except maybe Marcus Whittier, of course, but it wasn’t as if he were being ousted all together. I knew enough about the dynamics of a team from Cas to know that the future of the team always had to be kept in mind. A star senior lineup was great, but you always had to have an eye on the next generation to see what you’ll be left with when that lineup moves on.
The game began after the usual roll call of starters. The roar of the crowd and the coin toss. Marcus handled the kickoff, just as Jordan said he would, and after TS scored in the first quarter, he stepped in for the extra point as well. I guess they weren’t going to sic Foster on Hancock—or rather sic Hancock on Foster—right off the bat.
Hancock was a pretty good team, and Temple Sterling didn’t score its second touchdown until the end of the first half. Ezra took a handoff and made a spectacular run down the field, propelling himself into the end zone and raising the score 13–6.
And then it was time for the extra point. Surely they would send Marcus in. But there was Coach, pointing right at Foster.
Foster trotted out onto the field and got into place. Play started. Marshall Samford hiked the ball. Eliot Price caught it and set it, and Foster ran, ran, and connected with the ball. It shot into the air, arched gracefully, and landed right between the goalposts.
The crowd erupted, and I realized I had been holding my breath.
There were three more extra points that night. Marcus took two of them, but Foster had the last, and he nailed it. It was official: He was a hit.
“Fantastic!” My dad slapped Foster on the back in the parking lot. “You were incredible. Really showed ’em your stuff.”
Foster looked past my dad to my mom. “Can I go to the party with Dev?”
Don’t get me wrong—I was happy for Foster. But that was the last thing I wanted to hear. No, okay, second to last thing. The last thing I wanted to hear was my parents say yes.
“This isn’t fair,” I said, after my mom had pronounced sentence.
“Look.” Mom lowered her voice while my dad tried to talk to Foster about the game. “This means a lot to Foster. Just this once, please, take him and keep an eye on him.”
“If I had asked to go to one of these things when I was a freshman, you would’ve said no flat out.”
“You didn’t have an older sibling to look after you.”
“I’m not his sibling.”
“Devon.” Mom’s voice went icy. “You’re being unreasonable.”
She was right, and I knew it, so I just scowled and said, “Fine,” and didn’t talk to Foster the whole way over to Frank Ferris’ house, because it was easier to take it out on him than on my parents.
“You won’t even know I’m here, Dev,” Foster said before we got out of the car. “I promise I won’t do anything embarrassing.”
I cringed and said, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“This isn’t my first party, you know. I used to go to these things all the time.”
“Really?” We trekked up Frank’s front walk. From the cars on the street and the shadows in the windows, you could tell this place was packed.
“Well … they were kind of different. But sort of the same.” We pushed through the front door, a sea of people opening up in front of us. Foster smiled. “See you later.”
“I’m supposed to look after—” I started, but he melted into the mass of revelers and disappeared.
It wasn’t a great party. I didn’t locate Cas for the first twenty minutes or so, and when I finally spotted him, it was on the sunporch with Lindsay Renshaw, a little too cozy on a wicker love seat.
“Hey, Devon!” Lindsay waved me over. “Some game, huh?”
“Yeah, it was awesome.”
“Sit with us,” Cas said, but he didn’t scoot over, because, clearly, there was no room to scoot.
The nearest seat was halfway across the room. “It’s cool. I’ve got to go find Foster anyway.”
“Oh my gosh! Your cousin!” Lindsay’s face brightened. “He’s so cute, Devon, and really talented! My dad thought so, too. He said Foster’s kick was incredible for somebody so young.”
“Awesome … I’ll, uh, let him know.”