The next day, I was busy redecorating my bedroom, since Carter had started living on campus. Only, Mom wouldn’t let me move his bed out.
“Your brother’s just twenty minutes away. He’ll be sleeping here a lot—on vacations, some weekends when football season’s finished. Don’t go overboard, okay?” she said.
“I’m not trying to evict him or anything,” I told her. “I just never had a room of my own before. I really want to make it about me.”
So I shoved Carter’s bed as far into the corner as I could. Then I boxed up most of his football trophies and moved the rest of them behind mine on the top shelf of the bookcase. I heard the house phone ring and Mom pick it up in the kitchen. Then, after a few minutes, there was a knock on my door, along with a sharp bark. Mom stepped in, carefully cradling the phone while Galaxy jumped up beside her.
“Travis,” she said, with a smile and a sort of stunned look on her face, “this call’s for you.” She handed me the phone with her eyes on mine.
Dad only called my cell. And Mom wouldn’t have talked to him for that long, not without an argument. I thought it might be that Lisa Marie Batelli, who’d been my partner for a school summer reading project. Mom insisted that she had a major crush on me.
“Hello,” I said into the receiver, like I was walking into a room with the lights off.
“This is Head Coach Elvis Goddard, Travis. How are you today?”
“Fine, Coach. I’m fine,” I said, as Mom’s smile grew wider.
“I spoke briefly with your mother, and she said it was all right for me to make you this proposal. Travis, I’d like to offer you a football scholarship to play at Gainesville.”
For a second, the only sensation I could feel was goose bumps popping up over my body. My mouth hung open and I couldn’t speak.
“Travis?” said Coach G. “What do you think? Would you like to become part of our Gator family?”
The words rushed out of me in a flood of emotions.
“You bet, Coach. Yes! Yes! Yes!” I said, with my heart beating like a big bass drum in a halftime marching band: Boom! Boom! Boom!
“It’s not official yet. It can’t be. You’re too young to commit to a college,” Coach G. said. “This is just a personal promise from me to you that there’ll be a place for you here in five years.”
I turned to see Mom still standing in the doorway, looking as proud as could be.
“I won’t let you down, Coach,” I said. “You’ll see. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it.”
“I know you will, son. That’s why I’d only make someone like you this offer,” he said, before clearing his throat. “Now, this proposed scholarship is highly unusual. Let’s talk a little bit about the media. They should be calling soon.”
* * *
I phoned Dad first with the news, even before I thought about calling Carter.
“You’ve reached Max Gardner of Nationwide Insurance, serving all of your insurance needs in Tarzana, Woodland Hills, Encino, Reseda, and the greater Los Angeles area. I’m serving a valued member of our Nationwide family right now, so leave a detailed message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
I hated that message. I’d heard it so many times over the past two years, I knew it by heart.
“Call me back right away. You’re not going to believe it,” I said.
Over the next five minutes, pacing around my bedroom, I broke my own rule and left Dad two more messages. So he’d know I was serious. I even thought about changing my phone message, just for him. Something like: “This is Travis Gardner, the newest scholarship quarterback for the Fightin’ Gators. I’m either being interviewed by the media or polishing up my passing game. I’ll be sure to return your call when there’s a break in my busy schedule.”
But I really wanted to tell Dad myself.
A few minutes after my last message, Dad called back. He started to give me grief about overloading his voicemail. But I cut him off quick.
“What do you think happened to me today?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but you need to tell me in less than three minutes. I’m heading into an important sales meeting.”
“Coach G. gave me an athletic scholarship!” I said, sitting on the edge of my bed and twirling a football in my left hand.
There was a long silence before Dad said in a sarcastic tone, “So you’ll be going up against college players instead of eighth-graders.”
“Not for this season,” I said, slamming the football down against the meat of my thigh. “Five years from now.”
“Come on, Travis. What’s this about? I know Carter’s been getting all the attention lately. But—”
“It’s all true. I swear. Check out ESPN,” I said. “They’re going to do a phone interview with me soon.”
I threatened to put Mom on the line to back me up on everything. That’s when Dad sounded like he was finally starting to believe me.
“Gainesville’s committing to you? A full athletic scholarship?”
“If I want it, it’s mine. But I’ve already told Coach G. yes,” I said, letting myself fall backward onto the bed.
“Travis, I’m really proud of you. I agree, grab it while it’s being offered. It’s so easy for a football player to have a bad season or get injured. This is like an insurance policy for your future. Something you can count on,” Dad said, as my eyes studied every little crack in the ceiling over my head. “Is it binding on their part?”
“No, it’s just Coach G.’s word.”
“Hmm. Okay. Still, it gives you lots of cushion in case you struggle,” said Dad.
Only, I wasn’t thinking about any of that negative stuff. I just wanted a chance to play the position I loved—quarterback—at the highest level possible.