Page 58 of The Session

“If I don’t have to kick another ball until the tryout, I’ll be very happy.”

“Oh, I didn’t say that. I just meant being treated like a prized thoroughbred,” Mark clarified.

“As long as nobody mentions biometrics or ketones until tryouts, I’m happy.”

“Okay, give me a moment. I’m going to go talk to Miss Tru. Meanwhile, you can go tell your Italian coach that I gave you the most motivating speech of your life,” Mark told him with a wink.

“How’s it going?” Tru asked after Mark pulled her away from Ozzy’s crew.

“I have a request, and I don’t know if I should dial the magic number or just ask you.”

“What do you need?” Tru asked.

“How far away are we from the nearest primary school?” Mark replied.

“One of Summit’s schools?”

Mark wasn’t sure what that meant. “Where do the staff who work here send their children?”

“Saint Christopher’s over in Exuma,” Tru replied.

“How quickly can we get there?”

“Just a few minutes. It’ll take us longer to walk back to the airfield from here than it will to fly there. Need me to set it up?”

“Let them know we’re coming,” he told her. “And back me up if Coach Andrelli has a fit.”

Mark looked at the lineup of two dozen boys and girls standing in front of him wearing shorts, skirts, and polo shirts. They wouldn’t be his first pick for a pro team, but this collection of kids would do. Each one looked at him with a mixture of skepticism and cockiness, which was perfect.

Their physical education and geography teacher, Mr. Thornton, stood on the sideline of the patchy dirt lot next to their principal and the other teachers, grinning. Mark had told him his plans, and he heartily approved.

Mark held the soccer ball up in the air to call their attention.

“I was talking to Coach Thornton here, and he told me the boys’ team is one of the best he’s ever seen.”

The boys in the crowd began to whoop and holler.

“Only second to how well the girls play,” Mark shouted over them.

This time the girls cheered, and the boys made sneering sounds.

“Clearly, there’s some disagreement here over who’s better,” Mark continued. “I think the only way to settle it is this: Every time the girls win, I owe you guys a pizza. And every time the boys win, Coach Thornton owes you a pizza. And just to make it fair—because I notice there’s a little bit of a height difference—I get to put one player of my choosing on the girls’ team.”

“Against the girls?” asked a boy a head taller than anybody else.

“Are you scared?”

The young man let out a dramatic laugh and keeled over. “Against them! Hahahaha.”

“Always you, David,” Coach Thornton muttered.

“Somebody make sure that kid doesn’t have a seizure. All in favor of my offer, raise your hand,” Mark called out.

It didn’t take much convincing because, no matter what, they realized there were going to be pizzas to go around. Every one of them raised their hand high into the air.

“All right, it’s a deal. Coach Thornton, are we good?” Mark asked.

“Sounds good to me. Just no pineapple,” he replied.