Ryan’s dad was the principal at Claremont High School. He was a really good guy, and Lucas knew he was a good dad. But he was as serious about education as Ryan’s mom had been about basketball when she was a star for the UConn women’s team.

“You know how we call Claremont Country Club ‘The Triple C’?” Ryan said. “Well, that’s all the Cs I’m allowed.”

“You’re not a C student,” Lucas said, “even in English. C’mon, dude. You got this. We got this.”

“Writing comes easy to you,” Ryan said.

“Nope,” Lucas said. “I have to work at it like everybody else. You just have to stop telling yourself you can’t.”

“But that’s the thing,” Ryan said. “I really can’t!”

“Yeah, dude, you can,” Lucas said. He grinned again. “When you’re serving in tennis, what’s the best way to win a big point?”

“Ace,” Ryan said.

“So stop talking about Cs,” Lucas said. “And let’s ace English.”

It took a while for Ryan to get going. As much as he liked to talk, and he really liked to talk, he often had trouble organizing his thoughts. So Lucas asked him to just go back to the beginning of his relationship with Mr. Nichols. As Ryan talked, Lucas sat at his laptop and wrote down what he was saying.

“I’m not going to write your paper for you,” Lucas said. “But if you can just see how some of it looks on the page, I think it might help you.”

“Then I can put it into my words,” Ryan said.

Lucas shook his head.

“No,” Lucas said. “These are already your words. When I’m done, and you look at this first draft, it will be your job to put them into complete sentences. And really make it sound like you.”

“You’re the one who should be an English teacher,” Ryan said.

“Nah,” Lucas said. “Not even close. That’s Mr. C.’s job. I’m just trying to give you a different kind of assist here.”

“But what if I hoist up an airball?” Ryan said.

“Dude,” Lucas said. “You gotta lose this attitude. If Gramps heard you talking like that, you’d never get off the bench.”

They went back to work. Ryan kept talking about why he loved tennis and how Mr. Nichols had made him love it even more. As he talked, Lucas tried to keep up with his typing, not worrying about making mistakes, just wanting to get down the important parts of what Ryan was saying. When Ryan finished talking, Lucas went back over what he’d written, cleaned it up, made it into three paragraphs, and printed it out for him.

“Can I tell you one more thing?” Lucas said.

“How to get the grade I need?” Ryan said. “That would work.”