The truck, with Willa at the wheel, Andrew in the passenger seat, and Leonard in the back, came to a stop in front of a house with an unremarkable façade. The yard was somewhat neglected: overgrown, uneven grass, and several objects scattered across the lawn, as if the grass had slowly swallowed them up until they became part of the landscape.
Willa tapped the horn once, briefly. At the same time, Andrew sent Steve a text: come out, we're here.
"He's going to take a while," Leonard muttered, yawning without even trying to hide it. He hadn't slept much.
The night before, after the game, everyone had gathered at Willa's place. It hadn't been a party exactly, but it was more crowded than usual. Besides the usual group, Kevin, Reggie, Archie, and a few of Haley's friends had been there too.
They'd had a really good time. The problem with Steve wasn't just that he'd slept little as well. It was that he'd gotten drunk.
Andrew couldn't help but smile at the memory. Steve, Howard, Archie, and Reggie had ended up in an absurd shot-taking competition to impress one of Haley's friends.
Steve had won, if winning meant ending up just as bad, or worse, than the others. They'd all wound up completely wasted, saying stupid things and thinking they were hilarious.
"He's coming out," Andrew said suddenly, looking at his phone.
On the screen was a new message from Steve, full of typos, clear evidence that he still wasn't quite okay.
Willa, who wasn't exactly known for her patience, took her hand off the horn and sighed, resigning herself to wait a few more seconds.
The truck fell silent, accompanied only by the low murmur of the stereo music and the faint sounds from outside.
Until Leonard, clearly fighting not to fall asleep, decided to speak. "So… a pitching machine?"
"Yeah," Andrew replied, not hiding his enthusiasm. "Awesome, right?"
"And a Wii with every accessory you can imagine," Willa added.
Leonard looked at the box wrapped in gift paper on the middle seat. There was the Wii, with all the games and extra controllers. Then he looked back at the pitching machine. Finally, his gaze settled on the small bag he was holding in his hands, his own gift for Luke.
"Now I feel like my gift sucks," Leonard commented with such blunt honesty that it was almost funny.
"Hey, don't talk like that," Willa said, amused by his tone, more practical than embarrassed. "What did you get him?" she asked, turning to look at the bag.
"A Nerf gun," Leonard replied.
"Good gift," Andrew said immediately, sincerely. Luke already had several, sure, but that just meant more wars with his friends. You could never have too many Nerf guns.
"If it had been Andrew," Willa said with a crooked smile, "instead of a Nerf he'd have bought him a BB gun."
Leonard let out a short laugh. "Probably. Instead of buying a recreational pitching machine, he bought an almost professional one. Good thing I'm the one in charge of buying a weapon."
Willa laughed, and Andrew looked at them, mildly annoyed. "Laugh all you want, but my gift is going to be the best."
"Not everything is a competition," Willa commented, though she knew that for Andrew, ninety percent of the time, it was.
Finally, the front door of the house opened and Steve appeared on the porch. He walked slowly toward the truck, his steps a bit heavy, as if every movement reminded him of the night before.
Halfway there, he stopped.
His eyes locked onto the back of the truck, on the huge box containing the pitching machine. He frowned, leaned forward slightly, and squinted, as if doubting what he was seeing.
"Dude!" Steve exclaimed, still frozen in place. "Seriously?!"
Willa, noticing he wasn't moving, rolled down the window with an impatient gesture. "Yes, Steve, it's not a mirage," she said dryly. "Now get in, or I'm leaving you here."
Steve snorted, shook his head, and started walking again. "Orc…" he muttered under his breath as he opened the back door.
"What did you say?" Willa asked, turning her head slightly.
"Nothing," Steve replied quickly, clearing his throat. "Hey, guys," he said, greeting everyone in general.
Andrew turned around a bit. "What's up?"
"Honestly, I feel like sleeping instead of going to a twelve-year-old's birthday party with way too much energy," Steve commented, though his mood was already improving, and he got along well with Luke, so he wasn't going to miss the birthday.
Leonard barely looked at him and immediately leaned a bit away. "Men… your breath stinks."
"Yeah," Steve admitted shamelessly. "That's Willa's fault for the whiskey she made us drink."
"Me?" Willa said in an amused tone as she started the truck. "You sound a little resentful for someone who had so much fun last night."
Steve snorted and rested his head against the seatback. "The hangover was killing me. Luckily I managed to throw up and now I'm better, though the breath hasn't improved."
"Whoa, sounds like you really had a rough few hours," Andrew commented, reminding himself why he didn't drink. It had been a long time since he'd gotten drunk.
Even so, Steve wasn't someone who got drunk often. Despite his relaxed, sociable, joking attitude, as a wide receiver he took his routine very seriously. Andrew had been a clear influence on that: constant training, rest, and discipline.
He wasn't as extreme as Andrew, but he didn't lose control either.
"Yeah," Steve confirmed. "All because of this evil witch," he said, pointing a finger at Willa, "You rigged that whole shot competition."
"Stop complaining," Willa replied without losing her smile. "You, Howard, Reggie, and Archie wanted to impress the girls. I just set the stage, and it worked out for you in the end, didn't it?"
Steve didn't say anything else, because Willa was right. In the end, he'd achieved his flirting objective, even if the hangover hit him afterward.
"How much did that machine cost?" Steve asked.
"One thousand four hundred ninety-five dollars," Andrew replied.
Steve whistled, impressed. "Okay… this birthday is going to get interesting. I'm going to beat all those kids. No one's going to hit better than me."
"Leave the kids alone," Leonard said, shaking his head as he glanced at him sideways.
"Life isn't a game, my friend," Steve replied, bringing a hand to his chin and smiling in an exaggeratedly evil way. "I'm going to build character in those preteens."
It was all bluster. Steve wasn't the kind of person who would crush kids in a competition at a birthday party, even if he liked to say it.
"You're going to be the second-best hitter," Andrew said casually, but with clear competitiveness in his voice. "I'm going to be the best."
Steve's joking expression vanished instantly. A different smile, sharper, formed on his face. "You sound very confident," he said. "I doubt you have more experience with a bat than I do. Want to bet? How fast does the machine go?"
Steve knew perfectly well that Andrew was an athletic prodigy, strength, reflexes, explosiveness, coordination… everything. But hitting a baseball at high speed was very technical.
And baseball had been his second-favorite sport before football. He'd grown up surrounded by bats at home.
By contrast, he knew his friend was obsessed with football above any other sport. For the first time in a long while, Steve was convinced he had a real chance to beat that damn athletic monster.
"One hundred mph," Andrew replied.
"That's a lot…" Steve said with genuine surprise. Thinking about it, if the machine had been that expensive, it made perfect sense.
Even he wouldn't be able to hit a ball at that maximum speed. Of course, it wasn't like he'd been a competitive high-school baseball player either. He couldn't say exactly where his limit was, but he was sure of one thing:
Seventy-five mph, he could hit with the proper warm-up.
"Getting cold feet?" Andrew said, turning toward him with a barely provocative smile.
"Of course not!" Steve replied, fire in his eyes. "Fifteen pitches from the machine. Whoever has the best hitting wins. And if I win… you introduce me to Katie."
"Katie?" Andrew repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, the Mater Dei cheerleader," Steve said, nodding several times, completely convinced. "She's really hot, totally my type."
Andrew looked at him for a second, weighing it. "Fine. And if I win… I'll think about it later."
He wasn't even sure what he'd ask for. Honestly, he wasn't competing for that at all. He was competing to win. The rest he could decide afterward, preferably something funny enough to remind Steve of it every time he tried to brag.
"Deal!" Steve said, not giving him any room to back out.
They both extended their hands and shook, brief but firm, loaded with unnecessary competitiveness.
"Ahem," Willa cut in as she turned the steering wheel to take a corner. "You two big guys… do you remember this is Luke's birthday, with his friends? Not your testosterone-fueled competitions."
Andrew coughed a couple of times, as if only now realizing it. "That's true," he admitted. "They play first. When they're done, we'll use it."
"Fine, let the kids have fun first," Steve said, accepting it without much choice.
Just then, as Willa parked and stopped the truck in front of the Dunphy house, Leonard looked at Steve and slightly furrowed his brow.
"Hey, Steve," he said, nodding his head. "What did you bring Luke as a gift?"
He'd noticed something rectangular in Steve's hand, wrapped in newspaper.
Steve glanced down at the package and smiled mysteriously. "You'll see when Luke opens it live."
He opened the door, got out of the truck, and closed it with a soft thud, leaving the intrigue hanging in the air. The three of them looked at each other.
"I hope it's nothing inappropriate," Willa muttered as she got out too.
"I hope it is," Leonard replied, amused. "So Claire kills him."
Andrew laughed at the comment as he got out as well.
Willa went straight to the back seat and grabbed the Wii. Andrew went to unload the pitching machine with Steve's help.
The problem wasn't the weight. It weighed over eighty pounds, sure, but for someone like Andrew that was nothing.
The real problem was the huge box, bulky, awkward to grip, and practically impossible to carry alone without bumping into something.
With their combined strength, they managed to get it to the door and set it down carefully. Leonard and Willa followed behind them.
'My parents already got here,' Andrew thought when he saw his parents' car parked outside. It made sense, since he and Willa had taken a bit longer after stopping to pick up Leonard and Steve.
Andrew rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, hurried footsteps were heard and the door flew open.
It was Phil. He was wearing a full magician's outfit: a dark jacket with shiny details, a white shirt, a bow tie, and a tall black top hat, the classic kind that always seems to produce a rabbit, a dove, or something completely unexpected. His smile lit up even more when he saw them.
"Guys, you made it!" Phil exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Hey, Uncle," Andrew greeted, raising a hand. The others greeted him too.
"Already doing magic tricks?" Andrew added with a slight smile.
"Not yet," Phil replied with a little chuckle, as if he already had the whole show mapped out in his head. "I'm warming up. A good magician always has to warm up, just like you guys," he said, pointing at Andrew and Steve, "before the performance."
Then he looked past them, searching. "Also, I'm waiting for Howard. Didn't he come with you?"
Phil had planned a big magic show for Luke and his friends, and his star assistant was Howard. The two of them shared a love for magic.
Howard had accepted the role of assistant enthusiastically, they had practiced the entire show together with Phil days earlier.
At the mention of Howard's name, Andrew and the others couldn't help making small grimaces almost at the same time.
"What's going on?" Phil asked, noticing their expressions.
"Let's just say Howard…" Andrew began, searching for the right words.
"He's recovering from a rough night," Leonard continued. "But he should already be on his way. He wouldn't miss this."
"Yeah," Steve added, "according to him, missing it would be a grave offense to the guild of magicians."
"I'll call him and let you know," Willa chimed in. "He's probably already on his way, and if not, I'll go get him myself."
Phil, who had gone from worried to visibly calmer, smiled within seconds. "Thanks, guys!"
Only then did Phil notice the enormous box resting behind them. He blinked once, then again. "And that?" he asked, intrigued.
"A gift for Luke," Andrew replied, stepping aside so Phil could see the images printed on the box and understand what it was.
Phil's eyes widened instantly. "A pitching machine?!"
He lit up like it was Christmas and Santa had just brought him the best gift on the list.
"Shh!" Andrew said immediately. He didn't want the surprise to be ruined.
Phil scratched his head, embarrassed. "Sorry, sorry… besides, Luke's in the backyard anyway," he justified quietly.
The party was being held right there, in the backyard of the house.
Even though it was already almost December, the temperature was around 60°F. The sky was completely clear, not a cloud in sight. It was cool, yes, but not enough to keep everyone from being outside enjoying the day.
Without further ado, they went into the house. In the living room, they set down the huge box, and to add some drama, Phil immediately appeared with a large black cloth and carefully draped it over it, covering it completely.
"This is going to be exciting," Phil said, rubbing his hands together with anticipation.
Steve, now inside the living room, glanced toward the couches. "Why are you guys here and not at the party?" he asked, nodding his head, "Come on, act like kids."
On the sofas sat Manny and Alex, focused on a chess game that was already halfway through.
Alex frowned and looked at him over the board. "I'm not a child."
Manny, with the elegant calm that characterized him, replied without raising his voice, "I prefer to avoid unnecessary chaos. Besides, nothing beats a good game of chess indoors, sheltered from the sun, especially when one has an opponent of equal caliber."
Steve studied him for a second, bewildered. "You're the youngest adult I've ever met."
Manny nodded, genuinely pleased. "Thank you."
"I'm going to get Luke!" Phil announced enthusiastically, turning toward the backyard.
"Just Luke," Andrew stopped him immediately.
Phil turned back, confused. "Why?"
Andrew opened his mouth to explain, then closed it almost instantly. He knew that explaining it to his uncle would take time.
"Just Luke, please."
Phil hesitated for a second, not fully understanding, but finally nodded, "Sure… just Luke," he repeated before heading out to the backyard.
The problem was that Andrew was too famous. His YouTube channel, his televised games, everything. Right now, his fame was at its peak.
And on top of that, Luke went to Palisades Middle School, the same school where Andrew had been a legend years earlier, winning championships and leaving behind great memories.
In that area, his name and face were especially well known. Sometimes, out on the street, nearly nine out of ten people recognized him, greetings, requests for photos, autographs...
It wasn't something that bothered him, but today he preferred to avoid it.
After what had happened with Luke the day before, he wanted to avoid any awkward situations, at least for now, at the moment he was about to give him the gift.
The last thing he needed was for all of Luke's friends to suddenly crowd around him, ask for photos, or turn the party into something that stopped being about Luke.
"Checkmate," Alex announced, moving her white bishop. There was a hint of pride in her voice, Manny was very good, and in a game like that, age meant nothing.
Manny nodded as he studied the board. "Good game. One to one, we're tied," he said elegantly. Alex nodded as well and began putting the pieces away.
At that moment, Alex's gaze drifted to the box covered with the black cloth. "Another gift for Luke?" she commented. "He already got one yesterday."
"That one was from my parents," Andrew replied, arms crossed, looking toward where Phil had gone. "This one I bought myself. With my own money."
"How much did it cost?" Manny asked, genuinely curious. From the size alone, it was obvious it hadn't been cheap.
Steve answered before Andrew could even open his mouth. "One thousand four hundred ninety-five. Your cousin's rich, take advantage of it for your birthday," he added, looking at Alex.
'Rich is an exaggeration…' Andrew thought, saying nothing.
Though it wasn't that exaggerated. Being sixteen and making fifty thousand dollars in a month was insane. He literally had no way to spend that much money, even if he wanted to, unless he started making huge, unnecessary purchases for no reason.
It felt good to have that money, his own, earned by himself.
In his past life, he'd never had money. He depended on the goodwill of his grandfather's close friends, who took care of him and helped him get by.
Deep down, he'd always had that nagging feeling of being a burden, which was why he always asked for as little as possible. He longed to be independent, to reach the NFL, earn millions, and finally be able to buy all those simple things he'd wanted for years: consoles, video games, a good computer, figures, comics, clothes… those small pleasures that had seemed impossible.
In this life, it was different. He didn't feel like a burden being supported by his adoptive parents. Mitch and Cam loved him, and they had chosen to adopt him and take care of him.
"I see," Alex said, a teasing smile starting to form on her face. "All because Luke made a scene yesterday? Should I make a scene too so you'll give me gifts that expensive?"
"That's an interesting strategy," Manny said, joining the joke with complete seriousness. "I might try it."
Leonard laughed. "I'll keep that in mind too."
"And me," Willa added, leaning against the back of the couch and looking at Andrew with a dangerous smile. "There's a dress that costs almost a thousand dollars that I want. It could be my next gift."
Andrew looked at them all, one by one, with a flat expression. "I'm not buying anything that expensive for any of you."
"Cheapskate," Leonard muttered.
"Favoritism," Alex added in a complaining tone, though she didn't lose her smile.
"Clearly, I never thought Luke would be the favorite," Manny said with a small smile.
Before Andrew could respond, footsteps were heard. Phil appeared back in the living room with Luke at his side.
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Author's note:
Hi everyone.
I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to take a few days off, so I won't be uploading new chapters for a few days. The idea is to recharge and, more importantly, plan the next arcs of both stories with more detail and care.
I'll be back with a new chapter on January 30th.
Sorry for the inconvenience, and thank you as always for the constant support.
See you soon!