Page 40 of Role Model

Troy signed the next postcard. He wasn’t sure if he should write anything else. He wanted to write a whole essay telling Greg he was a great father, and Troy was in awe of him. And he wasn’t jealous of a hospitalized kid, but he couldn’t imagine his own father looking at him so lovingly. His own father had, in fact, come to the hospital to detail all the ways Troy could have avoided breaking his leg when Troy had been hospitalized at eleven. He’d also had some racist things to say about the kid who’d accidentally caused Troy to fall on his twisted leg. Then he’d taken a work call and abruptly left.

Troy decided to add Greg with a cheerful exclamation mark before his signature, then handed the postcard to him. “Thanks so much,” Greg said, beaming at the little piece of card stock like it would solve all of his problems. Troy wished it could.

Wyatt crossed over to Nathan’s bed and reached into a large tote bag he’d brought with him. “Do you like comic books, Nathan?”

Nathan nodded.

“Who is your favorite superhero?”

“Ninja Turtles.”

Wyatt grinned and rooted through the bag, producing two colorful Ninja Turtles comics. “You’ll share with Danny, right?” he said as he handed them to him. “I gave him Teen Titans Go! comics.”

“I love Teen Titans Go!” Nathan said, smiling at Danny across the room. “Who’s your favorite?”

“Beast Boy,” Danny said.

“Me too!”

“If Luca Haas comes in here, you should get him to draw you Beast Boy. He’s a good drawer.”

“Really?” Danny asked.

“Luca Haas is here too?” Nathan gasped.

“Oh yeah,” Wyatt said. “We’re just the opening act. Ilya Rozanov is here, and Zane Boodram. Evan Dykstra. All the important guys.”

Troy huffed a laugh at the way Wyatt was selling them short. He and Wyatt were both at the All-Star game last year, and Wyatt was probably going to go again this year.

“And,” Wyatt said in a theatrical whisper, “Chuck is here too.”

The kids’ smiles grew even wider. Chuck was the official Ottawa Centaurs team mascot, and he was, for whatever reason, a beaver. But, like all team mascots, he was a bigger celebrity with kids than the players.

“Did somebody say Chuck?” asked a cheerful, booming voice. Troy turned and saw Harris standing in the doorway, a giant beaver wearing a hockey jersey standing behind him.

Troy stepped aside to make way for Chuck. Harris smiled at him, and Troy couldn’t help but smile back. There were now way too many people crowded into the room, but no one seemed to mind. Chuck did his thing with the kids, silently offering high fives and doing big reactions that looked ridiculous with his huge, frozen, bug-eyed face.

“How’s it going?” Harris asked Troy quietly.

“Not bad. Wyatt is good at this.”

“He’s the master.”

“Chuck’s good at this too,” Troy said. He might be uncomfortable, but at least he wasn’t wearing an awkward, heavy beaver costume.

“Oh yeah. I’ll introduce you to Theo sometime. He’s great.”

“Theo?”

“The guy in the suit.” Harris narrowed his eyes playfully. “You do know there’s someone in that suit, right?”

“Shut up.”

“We tried to hire a seven-foot beaver for the job but, let me tell you, it did not go well.”

Troy snorted, then tried to cover it up. “You suck.”

Harris nudged him. “Let’s take some pictures.”

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