Chapter 4
OLLIE LEFTTheo at the tender mercy of Grace, the student helper who’d been assigned to give him a tour of the school, while Ollie went outside to the bleachers to think about his assessment.
“He’s reading at a fifth-grade level,” the resource teacher had told him earlier, which made perfect sense because Theo had to be pried away from his books with a crowbar and because he’d spent half his life in a hospital bed with nothing better to do than read. “That’s wonderful, but he’s a year behind the curriculum in math.”
Ollie didn’t know how much math curriculum an eight-year-old was supposed to know. Was Theo having trouble with adding or long division? But before he could ask, the teacher went on.
“He’s young, so there’s every possibility he’ll adapt quickly and catch up. But he’s also been out of school for a long time. Given that and the fact that he’s smaller than other kids his own age, it might be worth placing him in second grade instead of third. It would give him more practice at socialization. And there’s no reason the other students need to know he’s a year older than they are.”
The whole thing made Ollie feel like a failure as a parent. Allison would’ve made Theo do more math. Then Ollie wouldn’t have to make this kind of monumental decision.
He hated the idea of Theo being held back, even if that wasn’treallywhat this was. Of course he had gaps in his education. He’d been busy fighting for his life. It didn’t mean he wasn’t smart.
But kids tended to see things in black and white. Ollie didn’t want Theo to feel stupid, or like his dad didn’t have confidence in him.
He also didn’t want his kid to suffer in third grade because he couldn’t keep up with the classwork his peers were doing.
The fog of his thoughts must’ve been pretty thick, because he was already climbing the bleachers before he realized he wasn’t alone.
That figure the third row up, along the side near the forty-yard line, looked familiar. Sure enough, as Ollie got closer, he made out the scar along the jawline and the distinctive profile of Ty’s nose. He looked just as lost in thought as Ollie was.
That probably meant Ollie should leave him alone, right? Except if Ollie was being honest with himself,hedidn’t particularly want to be alone right now, even though he’d stalked out to his old sulking grounds to have a think. So maybe Ty didn’t either.
In the end he split the difference and sat one row down from Ty, a few feet over. When Ty didn’t react to his presence, Ollie offered, “Hey.”
Ty’s head came up so fast Ollie had to believe he’d been so deep in his thoughts he really hadn’t noticed Ollie. “Jesus, you scared me. Uh. Hi.”
Whoops. “Hi. Sorry about the ambush.”
Ty glanced down at the metal floor of the bleachers and then back up again with a crooked half-smile. “Something tells me you didn’t mean to sneak up on me. I guess I was just thinking.”
“Good spot for it,” Ollie commented.
“Yeah. Did all my best thinking out here in high school. Well.” The crooked grin widened, but it still didn’t reach his eyes. “At least when I could be bothered to think.”
Ollie found himself smiling back a little. “You played football too, right? I know I kind of filled your spot on the baseball team.”
“Yeah, how dare you,” Ty said flatly, like maybe it bothered him. Then his lips quirked back up again. “I played tight end.”
“Well, that’s all right,” Ollie said. “I was quarterback.”
Ty snorted. “Of course you were.” He tilted his head. “Registering Theo for school today?”
Ollie heaved out a breath, grateful to have an opening, even if it was weird. Ollie wasn’t alet’s talk about itkind of guy by nature. The Army didn’t exactly encourage a sharing-is-caring mentality either, so he was extra used to keeping his mouth shut.
But something about Ty made him easy to talk to. Maybe it was like that magazine article Ollie had read while Theo was in his last round of treatment at the hospital. Some study had shown that you were more likely to trust a stranger after you’d done a favor for them, even if it was something simple like passing them a bottle of ketchup at a diner. Olliefigured helping a drunk, hungover, mostly naked guy get to his father’s funeral service on time was a lot more effective than handing someone a condiment.
It definitely helped to know that almost no matter what he said, Ty had no room to judge. “Yeah. He’s getting his tour right now, while I came out here to have a crisis about what grade to put him in.”
“What, they’re just going to let you pick?”
“No. Yeah, kind of?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, he missed a lot of school because he had leukemia, so….”
“Jesus.” Ty’s eyes widened. “Poor kid.”
Ollie blew out a breath. “Right?”
“So… picking a grade?” Ty prompted.
