"Andrew Pritchett-Tucker is my son."
George went completely silent. He didn't speak or move. He simply stared at Cole, as if he had misheard.
Cole let him process it.
Several seconds passed before George finally blinked and asked, "What did you say? I think I didn't hear you right."
"That Andrew Pritchett-Tucker is my son. That's what I said," Cole repeated, more clearly this ti.
George closed his eyes for a mont and opened them again, as if the world needed a reset.
"You're telling that the kid every university wants, the one being surrounded by a crowd of football-obsessed Texas fans… is your son?"
Cole nodded. "That's right."
George exhaled through his nose. "No way," he said, the first thing that slipped out.
"Why would I lie?" Cole replied calmly. "Don't you know Andrew's background? That he's adopted? Didn't Missy tell you?"
George nodded imdiately. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Missy said it. His parents are a gay couple," he murmured thoughtfully.
He rembered his daughter's explanations perfectly, almost as if she had been giving a report. Andrew had been adopted by a family in California. It wasn't a secret. He even uploaded videos cooking with one of them. His story was public. Even the fact that he had two last nas, Pritchett-Tucker, was part of that identity.
George looked back at Cole. "But that doesn't an that you—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Cole nodded slowly. "Yeah. I put him up for adoption."
"Then Heather is his mother?" George asked, because that was the logical assumption.
Heather was Cole's current wife. The mother of Caleb and the younger one.
But as soon as he finished asking, George began to see the cracks.
Caleb was fourteen. Barely three or four years younger than Andrew, who would turn eighteen in a few months. The youngest was eleven.
If Andrew had been the oldest, the first, why give him up for adoption and then have two more children with such a normal age gap?
It didn't make sense.
Cole shook his head. "No. She's not his mother."
George didn't need any more explanation to understand that door was closed.
Silence settled between them again.
"So how did it happen?" George asked, lowering his voice. "I an, Andrew lives in California. You live in Texas."
The pieces didn't fit in his mind, and an idea began to form.
An affair?
Sothing in California before Heather?
He looked at Cole cautiously, trying to read his face. He didn't want to assu anything.
"When I turned eighteen, I didn't want to keep studying," Cole began, looking straight ahead instead of at George. "So I left dford and went to Austin. The capital. I figured that if I was going to ss up, I might as well do it big."
George didn't interrupt, and Cole continued.
"That's where I t Samantha," he said, his voice shifting slightly. "She was from the city. Smart, beautiful, and funny… my first great love. And luckily, the feeling was mutual."
George nodded slowly.
"We were both eighteen. Neither of us was studying. I worked whatever jobs I could get."
"Does she work?" George asked carefully.
Cole answered as if he were rembering everything like it had happened yesterday. "Yes, she wanted to be an actress. She said experience and auditions mattered more than sitting in a classroom. Her family didn't really support that dream or career, so she was determined to do it on her own."
He looked down for a second.
"One day she told she was going to California, and that she wanted to go with her. Los Angeles had the real opportunities. Hollywood had far more auditions."
"I guess you said yes," George murmured.
"Of course. I was in love. Paying rent in Austin was already hard. In Los Angeles it was worse. Everything cost more. Twice as much. I worked ridiculous hours. She did auditions, small gigs, whatever ca up."
Cole fell silent for a few seconds, then smiled faintly, rembering those monts, difficult and later painful, but among the most precious of his life.
"And not long after that, she got pregnant," he continued.
George raised his eyebrows slightly. "Did she take it badly?" he asked.
He didn't know much about the entertainnt world, but he imagined that for a girl just starting out, living off auditions and casting calls, pregnancy wasn't exactly ideal timing.
Cole shook his head and took a slow drag from his cigarette.
"No. Not at all."
The smoke drifted out slowly as he spoke.
"She was happy. Truly happy. She always said she wanted kids, that she would be a better mother than her parents had been to her."
He looked toward the parking lot, lost in the mory for a mont.
"She used to say she'd support her children in whatever dream they had. That she would never tell them it was stupid, the way they told her about acting."
He paused briefly and added, "She knew it wasn't the ideal mont. But she kept saying we'd find a way and things would work out. But they didn't."
His jaw tightened, and the distant noise of the airport seed detached from everything.
"She died in childbirth," he said plainly, without embellishnt.
Cole's eyes grew glossy. He closed them for a second, forcing himself not to let a tear fall.
George looked at him from the side. Without saying a word, he reached out and firmly placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.
Cole nodded slightly. "Thanks."
He opened his eyes and continued, his voice more controlled now.
"I was left alone. With a newborn baby. No money. In debt. No family nearby and without her."
He looked down at his hands.
"How was I supposed to give that baby a decent life, being completely on my own? I could barely pay the rent. I had no stability. I had nothing. So I made the decision to put him up for adoption right there, in California."
George swallowed. He hadn't expected a story of this magnitude when he had asked, Is sothing wrong?
"And Samantha's parents?" George asked, trying to understand if there had been any other option.
Cole slowly shook his head.
"Only her mother and a cousin ca to the funeral. More out of obligation than anything else. They knew Samantha died in childbirth, but they never asked about the baby."
The silence that followed was heavy.
"I realized I couldn't count on them. That they wouldn't help raise him, or stop the adoption."
"And my parents…" Cole added with a small grimace, "They were already disappointed in before all that. I didn't go to college. I left the state. When I ca back to dford after everything my father looked at like he was saying I told you so."
He lowered his gaze and concluded, "Luckily, my brother helped at the beginning. With that I managed to start my own business. I stabilized. But that was years later."
George nodded slowly. Now the pieces fit together.
The atmosphere fell into silence again. The wind carried the distant echo of shouts and the constant murmur that still surrounded the airport.
Cole spoke without looking at George.
"After three years I managed to get my life stable. I went back to Texas. I t Heather and she got pregnant with Caleb, but I was no longer Andrew's legal father. It's not like you can claim him later, like a jacket you liked but couldn't afford at the ti and now you can."
His tone wasn't bitter. It was resigned.
"I signed everything. Went through the full legal process. Termination of parental rights. There's no going back."
George nodded slowly. "And you never heard anything else?"
"They gave follow-ups," Cole replied. "Until they confird he had been adopted and the process was officially closed."
He looked at the ground.
"They didn't give an identity. No last na. No exact city. Everything confidential."
George frowned.
"Then… how do you know Andrew is your son? Did you find out when he beca famous?"
Cole shook his head.
"No. One of the employees handling my case felt so empathy. He wasn't supposed to do it. It was risky. But one day, off the record, he told the family who adopted him was from Los Angeles. Just that, but it was enough."
"I see," George said. "And with that…?"
"Yes. I couldn't just accept the agency's word that the family was stable and everything would be fine. I had to see it with my own eyes. He was Samantha's son. I had to make sure, not just believe a report."
He paused.
"I know it was risky. I was breaking part of the agreent. But I started searching."
"Searching how?" George asked, incredulous.
"Los Angeles isn't small. But it isn't infinite either. I knew the year, the hospital. I knew it was a private adoption. I knew there had to be social records, schools..."
His gaze grew more intense.
"I found several adopted kids. But one had the exact age, the sa birthday, and a double last na. And the na: Andrew, which was the one Samantha wanted for the baby…"
Cole took a deep breath.
"And when I saw him in the yard of his elentary school, there was no doubt. He had the sa hair as Samantha. Jet black. The sa features, but sharper. And the sa eyes."
"Woah," George murmured, completely unprepared for such revelations on a Saturday morning.
Cole gave a faint smile, "Yeah… thanks for listening. You're the first person I've ever told this."
George looked at him differently now. They weren't lifelong friends, just poker buddies, bar conversations, and Friday night gas. But even so, he could see sothing clearly: this hadn't been easy.
Your son.
The one you gave up for adoption.
The son of your first love.
The one who now appears everywhere.
And on top of that, his other son, Caleb, admired him without knowing he was his half-brother.
It wasn't that seeing him succeed was bad. Quite the opposite. But every highlight, every interview, every headline was a quiet reminder.
"So what will you do?" George finally asked.
Cole frowned slightly. "What will I do about what?"
"I don't know…" George made a vague gesture with his hand. "All of this. Will you tell your wife? Caleb?"
Cole shook his head almost imdiately. "It would only bring trouble if they knew."
He paused before continuing.
"Heather knows I had a serious first love. But she doesn't know there was a child involved. And even if they knew, what would change? It's not like knowing would an we could just go and et Andrew like that."
George looked at him for a few seconds, thoughtful. "And you? Don't you want to reunite with him?"
The question ca out more directly than he had planned.
Cole held his gaze for a mont, then slowly shook his head.
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because legally I'm not his father. I have no right to contact him. I can't interfere. It could be considered an intrusion, legally it's delicate."
George snorted in annoyance. "Bureaucratic bullshit."
Seeing he didn't look very convinced, Cole added, "And what right do I have? He's happy now. He has a family that loves him. It shows. You see it in the videos, in how he talks about them. I don't want to cause him problems."
George stayed silent. It was true.
It was clear Andrew had a present and solid family. He wasn't one of those sad cases of kids growing up in orphanages.
"But putting all the legal stuff aside… don't you want to reunite? He's your son," George insisted.
Cole was silent for a few seconds, then nodded. "Yes. I do."
George watched him closely.
"But not because I want to enter his life," Cole continued. "I don't want to appear out of nowhere and create a relationship he doesn't seem to need, and honestly, I doubt his family would want that."
"Then what for?" George asked, confused.
"To tell him about Samantha," Cole answered without hesitation.
His voice softened slightly.
"About his mother. About how she loved him during every one of the nine months she carried him. About how she talked about him as if he could already hear her, and how she said she would be a better mother than her own had been to her."
A small smile, gentle and sad, appeared on his face.
"I want him to know she would be proud. Of who he is and what he's accomplished. That she would tell him to follow his dream without fear. That she'd probably be fascinated watching him beco a celebrity admired by so many young people."
He looked down at the ground for a mont.
"I don't want anything for myself. I just want him to know who she was. So he doesn't think he ca into the world unwanted. And she will be rembered by her son."
George stepped forward without saying anything. He turned slightly away from Cole, looking toward the parking lot as if he were very interested in the model of a car.
He cleared his throat as the wind hit his face.
"Damn wind…" he muttered.
He raised a hand and discreetly rubbed his eyes. Then the other. A big, grown, respectable man… definitely not emotional. Of course not.
After a few seconds he heard Cole's voice.
"Look."
George turned around. His friend was holding an old photograph between his fingers, slightly bent at the corners from the passage of ti.
He stepped closer and saw Cole, but much younger. And beside him, a woman smiling widely, showing all her teeth. Beautiful. Dark black hair, pale skin, bright eyes that seed to shine even in the grainy photograph.
George watched for a few seconds longer. There was no need for him to say anything.
That woman looked like Andrew.
Or rather: Andrew looked like her.
He rembered the boy's face from the post-ga interview just a few hours earlier. The deep, glossy black hair. The fair skin. Those light eyes that, combined with the dark hair, made him stand out even more on cara.
The features were there too: the shape of the nose, the line of the mouth, the cheekbones… though on Andrew they were sharper and more defined.
Then George looked at Cole.
What Andrew had physically inherited from him was less obvious at first glance, at least in the face. But there were a few things: above all the height.
Cole was tall. Andrew, at seventeen, already stood over 6'3".
Then he looked back at Samantha.
'No DNA test needed,' he thought.
"So what can you do? You have to tell him about his mother sohow. She deserves that," George said with conviction.
Cole nodded slowly. "Yes, I know. One option is to wait until Andrew turns eighteen and registers in the California Adoption Reunion Registry. I'm already registered. If he requests contact… they could notify us and arrange a eting."
George rested a hand on his chin. "Mm. Sounds good. He's the one in control. No invading his space."
"Yes, but also no," Cole replied.
George looked at him. "Why not?"
"Do you really think Andrew feels the need to look for his biological parents?"
George didn't answer right away.
He was right.
Andrew had a present family. Stability. Love. Pride in his parents. Success. He was the number-one prospect in the country with a football career about to take off. What void would he be trying to fill?
Psychologically, he didn't seem to need answers.
"So even when he turns eighteen, he might never look for you," George said at last.
Cole nodded. "Yes."
The wind passed between them again.
"What other option do you have?" George asked.
"The only real option would be to contact his adoptive parents. Introduce myself and talk to them," Cole replied.
George raised an eyebrow. "That sounds delicate."
"It is. They could reject . And they'd have every reason to," Cole admitted. "Which is why it might be better to wait until Andrew turns eighteen. It would be easier if he's an adult. But even then, I'd still have to go through them first."
And besides, now that Andrew was a public figure, it wasn't especially difficult to reach certain basic information without violating anything legally.
The agency had never given him nas or addresses, only that unofficial hint, but Cole could say he had investigated on his own. It was known that Andrew was adopted, his birth date was public, along with a few other small details. With that and the double surna, it had been enough to connect the dots without accessing sealed records or crossing any direct legal lines.
Though, at the very beginning, years ago, he had crossed them.
"When will you try?" George asked.
"I don't know… when he turns eighteen. I'll have to start preparing myself ntally, I guess…" Cole answered, without much certainty.
His goal was clear. He didn't want to burst into Andrew's life. He wasn't looking for a dramatic scene or an explanation that would absolve him for giving him up for adoption. He didn't expect forgiveness or understanding.
He only wanted to speak to him once, to tell him who his mother was.
Nothing more.
George nodded. "If you need help with anything, ask ."
He gave him a couple of firm pats on the shoulder.
Both of them realized they had been standing there off to the side for quite a while.
"Let's go see how the kids are doing."
Cole nodded, and they both started walking.
When they returned to the main area, the place was still just as crowded, though the focus was no longer concentrated in one spot. Andrew was no longer in sight. The university and the staff had moved him quickly.
A few ters ahead they saw Missy's group, Caleb, Cassie, and several others, walking back, all talking at once, excited.
"Damn the university staff! If it were up to Andrew, he would've stayed longer," one of the boys complained.
Caleb nodded. "Yeah, but we got the photos and the autographs. Luckily we had a good spot."
"He's even more hot in person," one of the girls whispered to her friend, who laughed and nodded. "Did you see his eyes?"
Missy, who had been chatting animatedly with Cassie, spotted her father and imdiately walked over, holding out her phone.
"Look!"
George took the phone.
It was a selfie.
Andrew holding the phone, with Missy beside him smiling.
"And look at this," Missy added, taking the phone from him and showing her Mater Dei jersey, now signed.
George watched everything with an expression that was hard to read.
Andrew.
That boy he had always seen as soone distant now felt much closer for reasons he had never expected.
He could have grown up in dford. Or at least in Texas. He could have gone to the sa school as Missy. George might even have been his coach. He could have led the local sports program the sa way he had once done at Palisades before moving on to sothing bigger.
But in Texas.
"Dad?" Missy said when she noticed he wasn't responding.
George blinked and snapped back to reality. "That's great," he said, not really knowing what else to add.
"And of course Georgie is going to be insanely jealous," Missy comnted with a small smile.
Her brother hadn't been able to co. Saturday or not, he had work at the auto shop.
"Although…" Missy added, rummaging through her bag until she pulled out a neatly folded red jersey, "I also got him to sign this one."
She had brought the jersey her brother gave her the night before when he learned she was coming.
"You're a good sister…" George murmured.
Missy shrugged as if it were no big deal.
"Hey, Missy," Cassie suddenly cut in, "I think Andrew talked to you differently than the rest."
Missy turned to her with wide eyes. "You noticed it too!?"
She lowered her voice a little, but the excitent was obvious.
"There was a mont when he just looked at like… I don't know. Like he was processing sothing."
Cassie nodded, and Missy gave a slightly theatrical smile.
"It's destiny. Maybe he'll end up choosing A&M and we'll share a class soday."
They both laughed, not like wild fangirls, but like excited teenagers playing with an unlikely but fun fantasy.
George watched as Missy walked a few steps ahead, still chatting with Cassie.
Last year she hadn't been like this. Not such an open fan, at least she used to hide it better. She acted as if she didn't care that much.
Now she didn't bother.
Maybe it was the season Andrew had just had during his junior year, when he beca the standard everyone compared themselves to. And now he was putting together another season just as good, maybe even better.
His videos helping fans had helped too, like the one who lost weight because of him and received a cash prize. The sportsmanship he showed after gas with rivals. The way he treated fans.
The full picture.
It wasn't just talent anymore. He had beco a standard, both on and off the field.
Later, George and the others went to eat at a nearby restaurant before heading back to dford.
Missy had tried to get tickets for that afternoon's Texas A&M ho ga, but they were sold out. The visit of the number-one recruit in the country certainly hadn't helped ticket availability.
So they watched the ga on television at ho, shortly after noon.
A ga that ended up breaking viewership records.
Texas A&M Aggies vs Kansas Jayhawks.
Andrew was sitting in the section reserved for recruits. That weekend, only he and Steve had been officially invited, which made everything even more noticeable. The caras didn't take long to find them and project them onto the giant screen at Kyle Field.
The stadium reacted with an imdiate ovation.
It was far more enthusiastic than at any other university Andrew had visited so far. Only UCLA could have competed in terms of reception.
After the organized chaos at the airport that morning, the stadium was another level entirely.
More than 80,000 people.
The constant noise.
The "Gig 'em!" chant echoing in every pause.
The band, the cheerleaders, and the students standing the entire ga.
Gig 'em is the traditional greeting of Texas A&M Aggies football, and of the university in general. The expression originated in 1930, before a ga against TCU, whose mascot is the Horned Frogs.
Then ca the beating.
Texas A&M, who had been having an inconsistent season up to that point, surprised everyone with a crushing 61–7 victory over Kansas.
They dominated in every phase.
Every touchdown sohow felt like part of the welco show for Andrew and Steve sitting in the stands.
With that win, the Aggies' record improved to 6–5.
The weekend ca to an end, and with it Andrew's final visit.
Now all the options were on the table: UCLA, Georgia, Missouri, Stanford, and Texas.
Now it really was ti for the decision. But Andrew wasn't impulsive when it ca to football.
During each official visit he had been writing down the pros and cons of every university he visited. Now it wasn't about isolated impressions anymore. It was ti to compare everything as a whole and choose.
Even so, he decided he wouldn't announce anything just yet.
On Monday he returned to classes and, with that, Mater Dei's practices resud as well. Winning the section title on Friday didn't an the season was over. Now the state championship was beginning. Three more gas, if they managed to go all the way.
Andrew had his plan clear: he would announce which university he was going to once his run in the state championship was over. Whether that ant lifting the trophy or falling short along the way. First he wanted to completely close out his high school chapter.
On Friday the 25th, they played the quarterfinals against the Sac-Joaquin Section champion. They won convincingly, an easier ga than the one they had played against Notre Da.
And for the first ti in weeks, Andrew had his weekends free from flights, hotels, and etings with college staffs.
That Saturday his parents had other plans.
Caron had been telling Mitchell for weeks that it had been far too long since they'd had a dinner just the two of them.
Mitch eventually gave in, and that night they were going out to eat. Andrew would stay ho watching Lily. And he took the opportunity to invite Jade, who had already said yes.
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