Part 2


Kevin walked beside the President of the University, embarrassed to be there.  School hadn't even started, and here he was being paraded around for all to see and touch.

"Kevin.  Let me introduce you to Hal Chandler.  He owns Chandler Chevrolet."

Mr. Chandler reached out and enthusiastically shook Kevin's hand.  "Kevin, my son.  It's good to meet you.  We here at Penn were pleased to hear that you chose our fine University to play football.  How do you like it here in Pennsylvania?"  Kevin tried to speak.  "Good, good. And how is camp coming along?"

"Uh," Kevin hesitated to see if he would be cut off.  "Camp is good.  We have a solid team."

"Excellent, excellent.  Do you think you can make something out of them?"

"We should do well this year, sir."  Kevin smiled, and tried to extract his hand.

"Good, good."  Throwing an arm over Kevin's shoulder, the businessman led him away from the general crowd.  "Now tell me, son.  How are you getting around?"

Kevin eyed the other man carefully.  "I walk, and if I need to go off campus I ride the bus."

"No, no.  That will never do.  How about I provide you with a nice new car to drive while you're in school.  A nice new Z-28, eh?  How does that sound, my boy?"

"Uh," Kevin was feeling very uncomfortable with the situation.  "That's quite okay.  I'm happy with the way things are right now.  But thank you."

*****

First day of school found Kevin wandering across campus with a confidence that few freshmen felt.  He was mentally working through his schedule for the week, planning his study time around practice and other required events when he came across two of the senior players.  He was ready to call out to them until he noticed that their attention was focused on something on the ground. 

Correction, someone on the ground.

Hitching his backpack more squarely onto his back, he approached the other players, masking the anger he felt.  "Hey guys.  What are you two up to?"

Robbie Robertson, one of the team's linebackers, turned to see who was talking to them.  "Kevin."  Drawling the name out as if Kevin was his best friend.  "Terry and I was just removing some trash."  Spitting towards the body on the ground.  "Think of it as our effort in keeping the campus beautified.  Care to help?"

Hearing the words, the guy looked up to Kevin, assessing his newest assailant.  Kevin looked back.  Obviously the stranger was someone without much money by the way he was dressed.  The clothes were tattered from over use, not because it was a fashion statement.  They were also on the dirty side from being worn for a while, not from the beating.  His face was bruised from being hit, a trickle of blood running from a cut above his eye, and from the corner of his mouth.  Kevin felt for the guy, and found his anger at his teammates increasing.

"Nah.  I think Coach would be angry if I broke my hand hitting a couple of rocks."

The two players looked confused at Kevin, as if he was speaking in riddles.  The guy on the ground started laughing.

"What'choo laughing at, garbage?"

The kid started shaking his head, still laughing.

"I" Kevin knew that his anger was making his Kentucky accent draw the 'I' out a little more than usual, "think he understands that I'm insulting you, and not him."  Terry Randalls looked furious as he finally caught on.  Kevin wondered how these two had managed to meet the academic index.

Kevin crouched down, pulling a tissue out of his pocket and began to dab at the blood on the other boy's face.

"Are you choosing this scum over us, bro?"

Kevin looked up at the two senior players, allowing the fury he felt towards them to show.  "Yup.  Got it in one."  Turning his back to the two players, he continued to talk to them. "Also, I have two brothers, and you two aren't them.  Before you piss me off any more, you better go.  I'll see you guys at practice."  He called over his shoulder as they stormed off.  He turned back to the kid, "Do you need me to help you anywhere?"

The kid shook his head.  "I've had worse happen.  You're the one who probably should worry.  You do realize who those guys were, right?  I mean, they are two of the big men on campus."

Kevin snorted.  "Those morons?  I'm not worried.  If Coach is mad at what I did, or if they give me a hard time, I'll just quit the team.  I love football, but it's not why I'm here.  I'm good."  Holding his hand out, "Kevin Richardson, by the way."

The kid, because with his braces and braided hair -- that's what he looked like, tentatively grasped the offered hand.  "Uh, Chris.  Hold it, you're the new *star* of the team, aren't you?"

Snorting again, Kevin shook his head a little, but agreed.  "Yeah.  Now, you sure you don't need some help?  I could take you to the locker room and have one of the trainers look at you."

A brief look of fear crossed Chris' face, but was quickly replaced with a smirk.  "I'm fine.  Thanks."  The injured boy stood up, tried to wipe the dirt off his clothes.  "I'm late for work.  Thanks for the help."

Before Kevin could respond, Chris was running the other direction.

*****

The room was about half full when Kevin walked in.  Like most of his classes over the last two days, most of the heads turned and watched his every move.  He found it a little unnerving, and did his best to ignore it.  Looking around for a place to sit, he caught the hopeful look of a few of the females trying to show that the seat next to them was vacant.  He ignored them all.  Finally his eyes settled on a figure huddled at the far side of the room away from all the other students, trying to hide in what little shadows there were.  Kevin smiled and joined Chris, blocking out the murmur his decision was making.

"Hey Chris."  He smiled at the startled student.  Looking him over, Kevin noticed he was wearing the same pants from the day before, but was pleased to see that the bruises and the cuts had been properly tended to.

"Uh, hi Kevin."  Chris began to fidget, bending back the corner of his Econ 101 book.  Looking over Kevin's shoulder, he looked at the stunned expression of most of the students in the room.  "Are you sure you want to be seen next to me?"

"Uh huh.  Why wouldn't I?"

As Chris was getting ready to respond, the professor walked into the room, his voice booming throughout the auditorium.  "Welcome to Economics 101, where you will learn more about supply and demand than you probably ever wanted to know."

*****

Kevin held his tray with his left land while shoving his wallet back into his pocket with his right.  Feeling a nudge to his side, he smiled at Jeff Halliday, the second-string quarterback.  "We're sitting over there," his friend pointed to a table that was surrounded by several of players from the team.  Kevin started to follow Jeff towards the table when he noticed Chris sitting at the far end of the cafeteria, again separated from the rest of the student body.

Tapping Jeff's shoulder, getting his attention, he nodded towards Chris.  "I see a friend sitting over there by himself.  I think I'll go join him."

Jeff followed Kevin's line of site, his eyes going wide when he saw whom Kevin was referring too.  "You're kidding, right Kev?  That kid is always dirty.  He smells.  He's antisocial.  There's a reason why he's always by himself."

Kevin shrugged.  "I like him."  Then walked off, missing Jeff's stunned expression.

Putting his tray down, Kevin slid into the chair across from Chris.  "Hey Chris.  What do you think of that econ class?"

Chris' eyes opened up wide, doing a fine imitation of a deer caught in headlights.  "Wh-what are you doing?"

"I'm having lunch with a friend.  Have you eaten yet?"  Kevin noticed that there was no hint of food anywhere on or around the table.  Taking a few of the many items off of his tray, he shoved them towards Chris.  "I gotta tell ya, when I'm ordering food, my eyes always seem to be larger than my stomach ever can be.  Feel free to help me out here."  Leaning over the table, he lifted the front part of Chris' text.  "Mgt 101.  Not taking that class this semester.  You'll have to tell me all about it."  Ignoring that Chris hadn't said a word, Kevin unwrapped one of his sandwiches, took a large bite out of it, then began rummaging around in his backpack, pulling out his finance book.  "I've got finance with Professor Rolands.  The class is gonna be a bear, but interesting.  My brother Jerald is a finance major, so I need to be sure not to bring shame to the family name."  He laughed at his little joke. 

"Why are you here?"

"I told you.  I'm having lunch with a friend."

Chris slumped back in his seat, looking around the room waiting for the joke to appear.  When it didn't appear, he studied Kevin closely.  "That's what I don't get.  You're the starting quarterback for the team.  The man who the school seems to be putting all it's future hopes on in bringing major financing to the school.  You're good looking, popular, and by the classes you're taking, kinda smart, or at least not dumb.  Not like those two Neanderthals from yesterday."  Adding the last bit under his breath.  "But look at me.  I'm basically the school pariah."

Imitating the other's posture, Kevin settled back into his chair, staring hard at Chris.  Shaking his head, he smiled ruefully.  "Chris, man, I see something entirely different than you.  When I look at you, I see someone who works hard and is obviously quite intelligent.  By the way you dress, you don't have a lot of money, and yet here you are.  Not just at Penn, but at Wharton.  Obviously you got yourself a scholarship.  That takes a lot of brains.  You know what others think of you too, and that's rough.  But you continue on.  I really admire you.  Plus, you laughed at my joke yesterday."  He chuckled.  "People usually don't get my humor.  It's a nice change."

Chris blinked a couple of times before smiling back at Kevin.


Part 3