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  “Well, I finished,” Cade said slowly. He was still mad at himself for losing his focus and letting the other guy finish ahead of him.

  “He didn’t just finish,” Jazz piped up. “He finished fourth!”

  “You came fourth?” his mom asked, rushing over to give him a hug.

  Cade pushed her away. He didn’t want to be treated like a little kid in front of his friends.

  “You should have seen your son out there,” Mr. Grimsby said. “The way he swam, biked and ran. It was like he’d been competing for years. You would have been proud.”

  Everybody had big smiles on their faces. Except for one. Cade’s father stood with his hands on his hips. He looked stone-cold. “Why didn’t you tell me about the race?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did you forget?”

  “No.”

  “Then what was it?” His father’s eyes narrowed to slits.

  “I didn’t think you’d care,” Cade said, staring at his shoes, too afraid to look up.

  “You’re right—I don’t care,” his father said, stabbing the air with his finger. “Not when I find out like this. Not when your mother tells me just a few minutes ago. Not when you’ve kept all this a secret from me for weeks.”

  Mr. Grimsby spoke up. “I think Cade thought you might have been too busy with football. I hear Trent is a fine quarterback.”

  “Yeah, he’s a star, all right. He’s got pro written all over him. And he’s playing a real sport.”

  “Triathlon is a real sport too,” Mr. Grimsby said.

  “Try-a-thon…try-a-long…Whatever it’s called, it’s not like football, that’s for sure. You should have been at this morning’s game. I bet there were a hundred fans cheering Trent on.”

  “That’s nothing,” Jazz said, staring down Cade’s father. Cade couldn’t believe it. “There must have been a thousand people at the triathlon—competitors, parents, officials, reporters, even TV cameras. After my event I took a video of the whole thing with my phone. I’ll post it on YouTube. You’ll see for yourself.” Jazz took a big step toward Cade’s dad. Her eyes were blazing. “And you know what the big crowd saw? They saw Cade give everything he had. They saw him miss third place by a split second. He was almost on the podium. It was an amazing performance. You’ve got two star athletes in your family, Mr. Dixon. Not just one.”

  Jazz took a step back so she was beside Cade and Mr. Grimsby. Now all three of them stood in a line across from Cade’s father.

  “You have to admit, fourth place is pretty impressive,” Cade’s mom said.

  “Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t,” Cade’s father said, crossing his arms. “I have nothing to compare it to. So. How did you do, Jazz?”

  Cade got the feeling his dad already knew the answer.

  “It doesn’t matter how I did,” she said.

  “I think it does matter,” Cade’s father said.

  Jazz paused before answering. “I did okay.”

  “How okay?”

  “I came first,” she said quietly.

  “First? That’s what I thought,” Cade’s father said, his voice growing louder. “Sounds like anybody can win a gold medal. Finishing fourth is no big deal.”

  “The Calgary Triathlon organizers thought it was a real achievement,” Mr. Grimsby said. “They invited the top five finishers to the Alberta Championship in Sylvan Lake two weeks from now.”

  Cade’s father faked a laugh. “You’ve got to be joking if you think I’m going to drive Cade two hours all the way to Sylvan Lake. He’ll do even worse in that race. Besides, Trent’s got football.”

  “I’ll be competing at Sylvan Lake myself,” Mr. Grimsby said. “I’d be happy to drive him and Jazz to the race.”

  “Thank you for the kind offer, George,” Cade’s mom said. “I think it would be great if Cade could compete in a big race like that.” She gave a quick sideways glance at Cade’s dad. “Darrel and I will talk it over. We’ll let you know if Cade is going.”

  Cade lifted two bikes down from the rack and waved as Mr. Grimsby backed the car out of the driveway. He turned and wheeled his bike straight toward the open garage, not even looking at his friend before calling out, “See you later, Jazz.”

  “Where do you think you’re going?” his father said.

  “The only place I’m allowed to go,” Cade fired back. “Inside the house!”

  “Get back here right now,” his father ordered.

  “Why?” Cade said, holding his ground. “So you can tell me I can’t go to the next triathlon? So you can tell me I’m not good enough? Or so you can tell me about Trent’s next big game? Which one, Dad? Or maybe it’s all three?”

  Cade pushed his bike into the dark garage. Then he disappeared behind the closing door.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Are you going over to Mr. Grimsby’s this morning?” Cade’s mom was in a cheery mood. The exact opposite of Cade. He sat slumped on a stool at the kitchen island. His bowl of cereal was getting soggy.

  “What’s the point?” Cade asked. “Dad probably won’t ever let me enter another triathlon.”

  “He was just surprised to find out that way. It was my fault. I should have told him before.”

  “He sure was mad,” Cade said.

  “He calmed down after I explained everything to him last night.”

  “So I can go to the one in Sylvan Lake?”

  “You sure can.”

  “Really?” he said. “Do you think you guys could come and watch me?”

  His mom pursed her lips. “I wish we could, but Dad has to take Trent to his game that day. We only have the one car, and it can’t be in two places at once.”

  “Figures! All Dad cares about is Trent and his stupid football.”

  “That’s not true,” his mom said.

  “Then why doesn’t he take me and let someone else on the Broncos take Trent?”

  His mom didn’t answer right away. “Well, your dad agreed that it would be good for Mr. Grimsby to take you.”

  Cade wasn’t buying it. He knew his dad still thought Trent’s football was a lot bigger deal than his triathlon. But at least he was allowed to go. Besides, Mr. Grimsby was a lot more fun to hang out with than his dad was.

  “I guess I’ll take off,” Cade said, picking up his helmet. “We’ve still got a lot of training to do. I have to practice keeping my focus right until the end of the race.”

  “Don’t forget your grandparents are coming for dinner tonight,” his mom said. “They’re driving down this afternoon. So make sure you’re home by five o’clock.”

  Cade’s mom always seemed to get tense when they came for a visit. Especially if Grandpa wasn’t in a good mood, which was most of the time.

  “You boys are getting so big,” Grandma said. She stood between her grandsons with one hand high on each of their shoulders.

  “Just eating my vegetables,” Trent joked.

  “And you’re going to eat some more tonight,” their mom said. “Dinner is ready. The ham is on the table. Everyone have a seat, please.”

  “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown since last time we saw you,” Grandma said again, passing a plate of buns around the table. “Now when was that?”

  “I think it was a few months ago, when you came to my first game of the season,” Trent said.

  “Oh yeah, that was quite a game,” Grandpa said, lighting up. “You threw for three touchdowns! I sure felt proud watching you. It brought back a lot of memories of when I was a quarterback in high school. Dead-Eye Dixon, they used to call me. It’s nice that someone else in the family is finally becoming a good football player.”

  “Your son played football too, don’t forget,” Grandma said, smiling over at Cade’s dad at the head of the table.

  “I’m still trying to forget,” Grandpa said. “I’m not sure you can call what he played football. He was the worst pass receiver I’ve ever seen. Couldn’t catch a ball if there was glue on his fingers.” r />
  “I’m sure Dad could catch one of my passes,” Trent said. “They’re always right on the money.”

  “He couldn’t have been that bad,” Cade said, surprised he was taking his dad’s side. He was still mad at him, but he knew no one liked to be put down.

  “Are you kidding?” Grandpa said. “I went to the first few games, but then I quit going. It was too embarrassing.”

  “Well, you don’t have to be good at football to be good in business,” Grandma said, turning to Cade’s dad. “Did you get that promotion at work you’ve been hoping for, Darrel?”

  Cade’s dad shook his head. “No, they gave it to someone else. I couldn’t believe it. I never get a break.”

  “I’m sure they’ll recognize your talent soon,” Grandma said.

  “You’ve got to be good at something before they recognize you for it,” Grandpa said. “It doesn’t sound like you’re much better at business than you were at football. You better pull up your socks, son.”

  Cade glanced at his dad. He looked sad. Like he had been beat up. But he hadn’t been hit by punches, just nasty words. Cade wondered how his grandpa could be so mean. And realized how hard it must have been for his dad growing up. Never being good enough for him.

  That’s why football was such a big deal to his dad. It was because football was such a big deal to his dad—to Grandpa. Cade’s dad wanted Trent to be the star that he never was. Maybe that would make Grandpa feel good about Trent and his dad.

  But Cade didn’t think things would ever change. His dad would probably always be trying to impress Grandpa. He’d always be more interested in Trent’s football than whatever Cade was into. Cade knew that if he wanted to be good at triathlon, there was only one person in the family he could depend on—himself.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Just one week to go. Just seven more days to get ready for the Alberta Championship Triathlon. A few more training sessions to make sure his swimming was smooth, his biking powerful and his running as fast as it could be all the way to the finish. Now that Jazz had gone back to swimming full time, it would be just Cade and Mr. Grimsby. He headed out the front door and sprinted down the street to Mr. G.’s house. There was no sense walking. Every run would help his conditioning.

  But Mr. Grimsby wasn’t outside waiting for him as usual. He wasn’t stretching on his lawn, getting ready for a run. He wasn’t oiling the chain on his bike. He was nowhere to be seen. That’s weird.

  Cade walked up to the front door. He noticed all the curtains were pulled tight. He rang the doorbell. No answer. He rang it again. Finally, just as he was about to walk away, the door swung open. Mr. Grimsby stood there, still in his pajamas.

  “Oh, hi! Are you feeling okay?” Cade asked.

  “No, I’ve had better days,” Mr. Grimsby said, smiling weakly. He looked like he hadn’t slept. Strands of gray hair flopped over his forehead. For the first time, Mr. Grimsby acted as if he really was old—not strong and full of energy like usual.

  Mr. Grimsby wasn’t sniffling or coughing like Cade did when he got sick. “So…you caught a cold? Or the flu?”

  “No, it’s more serious than that.”

  “Is there something I can get for you to make you feel better?”

  “I’m afraid there’s no cure for what I have.”

  Cade gulped. “What have you got?”

  “A broken heart,” Mr. Grimsby said.

  Cade wasn’t sure what he meant. Mr. Grimsby’s heart seemed in good shape. Cade was always the one huffing and puffing, trying to keep up.

  “Mrs. Grimsby died last night,” he said quietly. “She didn’t even remember me in the end.”

  Cade didn’t know what to say. “Oh.”

  “So I won’t be running with you today.”

  “That’s okay,” Cade said. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be able to train with you at all this week. A lot of friends and family will be coming to visit. And I have to get ready for her funeral on the weekend.”

  “Next weekend?” Cade asked, wrinkling his brow. “But that’s the triathlon!”

  “I know,” Mr. Grimsby said. “I won’t be able to drive you to Sylvan Lake. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh. That’s okay.” As Mr. Grimsby started to close the door, he added, “I’m sorry about Mrs. Grimsby.”

  “Thank you, son.” Mr. Grimsby paused and then said, “Remember, Cade, you can do this. I’ve tried to teach you all that I know. You’ve done the training. Now you just have to believe in yourself.”

  Cade turned and walked slowly home. He felt really bad for Mr. Grimsby. But now how was he going to get to the triathlon?

  When Cade walked into the house, his mom could tell something was wrong. He told her about Mrs. Grimsby.

  “Poor old George,” his mom said.

  “And me,” Cade said.

  “What do you mean?” his mom asked.

  Cade knew his problem was small compared to Mr. Grimsby’s, but still. “Now I can’t go to the triathlon.”

  “Let’s see what your father says.”

  They walked out to the backyard, where Trent and his dad were tossing the football around. Cade’s mom explained what had happened.

  “I told you,” Cade’s dad said, shaking his head, “Trent has a big game that weekend.”

  “Forget it, mom. It’s fine.”

  “Actually, though, there’s one way you could get to Sylvan Lake,” his dad said.

  “What’s that?” Cade hadn’t thought there was any way his dad would consider driving him. But even if there was a one-in-a-million chance, he wanted to know what it was.

  “Red Deer is right next to Sylvan Lake. If Trent’s team ends up playing against Red Deer in the final, we could drop you off.”

  “But Red Deer will never win,” Trent said. “They’re playing against Edmonton today in the semifinal. They’re a powerhouse.”

  “But sometimes the underdog wins, right?” Cade said. “Sometimes the small guy comes out on top?”

  Trent shrugged. “I guess it’s possible.”

  “Yeah, but don’t get your hopes up,” his dad said. “My money’s on Edmonton.”

  “I have a friend in Edmonton who’s at the game right now,” Trent said, pulling his phone out of his jeans. He quickly thumbed a message. A few seconds later his phone buzzed. His eyes bugged out of his head. “I can’t believe it.”

  “What?” Cade asked.

  “Check it out,” he said, holding up the phone for Cade and his dad to read. “Final score.”

  Red Deer 21–Edmonton 20

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Grandma says they’re all set for our visit,” Cade’s dad said, reading a text message.

  He was in the front passenger seat. Cade’s mom was behind the wheel. Cade and Trent sat in the back, playing games on their phones.

  His dad turned his head toward them. “She says it’s just a fifteen-minute drive to the football field.” Cade’s grandparents lived in the town of Blackfalds, just north of Red Deer.

  “All right!” Trent said. “We can get to my ten o’clock game tomorrow no sweat.”

  “But how far is it to Sylvan Lake for the triathlon?” Cade asked.

  “I didn’t ask,” his dad said.

  “Why not? I have to be there by seven to put my bike into the transition area.” His bike was strapped to the rack that Mr. Grimsby had lent them for the trip.

  “That’s pretty early,” his dad said.

  “You guys know I have to be there first thing! To make sure my gear’s all set up and my bike seat’s adjusted,” he said, holding up his bike tool.

  “Don’t worry,” his mom said. “I can drop you off early. Then I’ll drive back to Blackfalds and pick up Trent and go watch his game.”

  “Who’s going to watch me?” Cade asked, not expecting an answer. He pulled his hoodie over his head and stared out the window as the sky began to darken.

  After driving for an hour and a hal
f, his mom tapped the dashboard. “Looks like we’re getting low on gas.”

  “Let’s take the next exit and fill up in Red Deer,” his dad said. “It’s just off the highway.”

  They drove through the small city in silence, through the downtown area, past the shopping mall, the hospital. Cade watched the red Emergency sign flicker in the dark.

  “I’m going to pull in at that station.”

  “Why don’t I drive the rest of the way?” his dad said, hopping out at the pumps.

  “Are you sure?” his mom asked.

  “No problem. It’s getting late, and I know a shortcut my parents take.”

  Cade checked his watch. It was already ten o’clock. Were they ever going to get there? He needed to get a good night’s sleep.

  His dad filled the tank and slipped into the driver’s seat. Then they were off.

  “We’ll take this backroad to Blackfalds,” he said, turning off the main route. “It goes over the Blindman River. Not a lot of people know about it. But it will save us a few minutes.”

  The car sped down the dark road. Cade cracked the window open. He could hear rushing water not far away. “The river sounds fast.”

  His mom nodded. “Must be all the rain we had last week.”

  “There’s the bridge,” his dad said, proud that he had found the way.

  “Watch out!” his mom screamed.

  “What?”

  “There’s an animal on the bridge!”

  Cade’s dad yanked hard on the steering wheel. But he was too late.

  WHACK!!!

  The car crashed into the deer and swerved to the right. The brakes squealed. The tires skidded. They hurtled sideways toward the edge of the bridge.

  The car flew through the air like a terrifying ride at an amusement park. But this ride was for real. Down…down…down they plunged, toward the river.

  “Hold on!” yelled Cade’s dad.

  All Cade could see was blackness. All he could hear were the screams from his family.

  The car hit the water with a thunderous jolt. Cade lurched forward but was saved by his seat belt. The front end of the car started to sink first. The hood began to disappear into the murky, black water.