“But this is a good investment!”

“Be that as it may…”

His dad took a deep breath. “I understand that you might not believe in this idea, but if I could just show you—”

“Oh, we believe in the idea, Mr. Gianopuolos.” The president leaned forward. “We don’t believe in you.”

His dad was taken aback. “What?”

“That name. Gianopuolos. What is it? Greek? People aren’t going to want to buy food from a Greek. Not in this town. We want real food here. American food. Now, while the bank could not support an establishment that had tables on the sidewalk which would impede pedestrian traffic, your idea of a restaurant with an open front is intriguing, and if the right man came along, we might see fit to invest…”

Theo tuned out the president. Next to him, his dad had slumped in his chair, and when Theo hazarded a glance in that direction, he saw a look of humiliated defeat on his father’s reddening face. He wished his dad would jump up and punch that fat banker right in the nose. But his father was not that kind of man, and such an action would only get them kicked out of the bank, possibly arrested. As he’d learned already, even at age eight, rich people had power and poor people didn’t, and if you didn’t stay in your place there would be trouble.

So his dad had to sit there and take it, and afterward he shook the bank president’s hand, thanked him for his time, took back his papers, and he and Theo left the office. They walked, defeated, through the lobby toward the front door. Were the tellers smiling? Were people laughing at them behind their backs? It sure felt like it, and Theo wished that someone would rob the bank and take all of its money.

His dad must have misinterpreted his anger as disappointment. He put an arm around Theo’s shoulder. “It’s all right, son. We’ll be fine. Maybe not as rich as we could have been, but we’ll be fine.” He wanted Theo to believe that—he wanted to believe it—but Theo sensed a change in his father, a retreat from hope, a withdrawal into himself. It was a difference that showed in his voice, even in his walk, and Theo was afraid that change in his dad would be permanent, a fear that was to prove not unfounded.

They walked out of the double doors onto the sidewalk.

When he grew up, Theo vowed, nothing like this would ever happen to him.

He would make sure of it.

ONE

1

Dennis Whittaker, the Montgomery High School principal, a thin, stressed-looking man in an unfashionable brown suit, frowned as he looked from Kyle to Anita. “I don’t know what we’re going to do about your boy.”

Kyle glanced at Nick, sitting between them and staring at his shoes.

“If you’d tell us what he’s done,” Anita said crisply, “it might help.”

The principal picked up a stapled sheaf of papers from his desk, leaning forward and handing it to her. “This is your son’s play,” he said. “Just look at the title.”