Anderson
“Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred.” That’s one hundred pushups following a hundred sit ups and thirty minutes of weights. That should be enough for this morning.
I take a shower to relax my burning muscles. The hot water massages them until they are loose again. When I get out of the shower my dad is sitting on my bed tossing my football above his head and catching it.
“Dad, what are you doing?” I stand there in nothing but a towel.
He stands up quickly. “Oh, I’m sorry, Son. I just wanted to make sure you were up and getting ready for school.”
“I’m up,” I say plainly.
“Good. Did you get your workout in this morning?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“Alright.”
We stand there awkwardly for a few seconds and finally I can’t take it anymore.
“Dad, can I get ready for school now?”
“Oh, of course.” He hurries out of the room. “Hurry up. Your breakfast will be ready soon.”
“Sure thing, Pop.”
He closes the door behind him and I go to my closet to figure out what I’m going to wear.Once I'm dressed and feel confident, I grab my book bag and duffel bag stuffed with my practice gear. The smell of first day breakfast is trailing down the hall and I follow the salt and pepper trail into the kitchen.
My little brother Jenson is eating a big bowl of Coco Puffs. My dad sits at the table reading the paper and drinking a cup of coffee.
“Your breakfast is on the counter,” he says.
On my plate are scrambled eggs, four pieces of wheat toast, and a few slices of turkey bacon. I lather butter and jam on the toast and take it to the table.
“Don’t forget about your protein shake,” Dad says without looking up from the paper.
“Can’t I just have Coco Puffs?” I groan.
This time he looks at me from over his glasses.
“It was a joke,” I insist and get back up from the table. Dad has had me drinking protein shakes since I was a freshman. I mix the thick vanilla-flavored powder with a bottle of water and chug it. It tastes like chalk and I wash it down with a glass of cold water.
“Tell that coach of yours he would be wise to get rid of that Rasti kid.” Dad stares at the paper. “He didn’t do anything but hold you guys back last year.”
“Dad, we won.” I roll my eyes.
“I know. I know you did.” He looks at me. “But you won because you had good defense. And a hell of a quarterback.” He lifts his cup in cheers to me, his prodigal son.
“Of course.” I don’t deny it. “But we’ve got all of our best players coming back this year, and several good guys from junior varsity moving up. We’ll be back at State again this year, for sure. Isn’t that right, Jenson?”
“Yeah,” Jenson squeals. He is five and my biggest fan. How something so adorable came from my evil stepmother is a mystery to me. I ruffle his hair.
“That’s good.” Dad keeps pushing. “Because this is the year, Anderson. The scouts are going to be on you hard, harder than last year. You can’t mess up, not even once.”
“I know, Dad.” I get up and put my plate in the sink. “Football. Play well. Scholarships. College. Don’t fail. I got it.”
“I know you do, Son.” Dad throws his hands up in surrender. “I’m just doing what I’m here to do. It’s my job to motivate you.”
And to suffocate me, I think to myself. “I’ve got to get to school. Sam will be waiting.”
“Sure.” Dad shrugs. “Jenson, hurry up and finish your cereal. I’ve got to get you to school so I can get to the store.” He owns a sporting goods store. I know, go figure.
He gets up and limps to the sink to empty his mug. His knee always hurts him the worst in the mornings. Bad accident in his high school football days; needless to say, he never threw a ball again.
“Lexi will be home tonight.” He pats me on the back. “Try to be home in time for dinner, okay?”
I wince at the sound of my stepmom’s names. She’s been gone all week on a ‘personal getaway.’ She’s loaded with cash from her first marriage and an over-blessed childhood. But she doesn’t let my dad see a dime of the money. As long as she’s got her nails done and Botox on her lips, she’s generally happy. But I can’t stand her, and this week has been a vacation for me, too.
“A bunch of the guys were going to go out to eat after practice,” I tell him. “Celebrate the new season, you know?”
“Oh.” He nods his head. “Well that will be fine. Just don’t be in too late, alright?”
“No problem, Dad.” I grab my bags and start out of the kitchen. “Jenson, you have fun in kindergarten. Stay off of those girls, you hear me?”
“Ew,” Jenson squeals and chocolate milk spills from his mouth. I leave my dad to clean up the mess and Jenson’s laugh echoes through the house as I head out.
My truck sits pretty at the end of the driveway. A gift from my grandparents, my new Ford Ranger is the newest model. I just washed it yesterday and it gleams in the morning sun. Black and chic, the truck is big and intimidating. Like me.
I drive slowly to school. I left too early, but I had to get out of the house and away from the smothering pressures of my dad’s high school dreams. When I get to school, I park up front in the spot reserved for me. I’m the football captain, teen royalty at this place. Being the captain of the football team is like a hall-pass with the freedom to do whatever I want at this school.
I get out of the truck to stretch my legs and a gold contour pulls up next to me. Its driver is Ruby St. Clair, the student body president. She gets out of the car and has a big smile on her face, as always.
“Hey, Anderson,” she says to me with a friendly voice.
“Hey, Ruby.”I smile at her. She’s cute in a different way. Different than Sam. “How was your summer, Miss President?”
“It was good.” A generic answer for a generic first-day-of-school question. “I went to Peru with my family for a couple of weeks. That was nice.”
“Awesome.” I look her up and down. She’s pretty, and her family has a lot of money. She could be one of us if she wanted to be. But why anyone would want to be one of us is beyond me. “I spent the whole summer talking to coaches.”
“Oh yeah.” She nods “It’s the big year, huh? The scouts will be out for you.”
Don’t remind me. “Yep. I can’t believe we’re seniors now. It doesn’t feel right. I’m ready to get out of here, though.”
“Me too,” she agrees. “Well, I guess I’m gonna go in now. Do you want to walk with me?”
I consider it and then decide against it. The last thing I need is people starting rumors on the first day. “Nah.”I shake my head. “I’ve got to wait for Samantha. She’s late as usual.”
“Well, I’ll see you around, then.” She turns and walks away.
“Bye Ruby.” She gets me. And although maybe we aren’t supposed to be friends, she is someone I can always count on to listen and give good advice. She’s a life saver, really.
I lean against the truck and wait for Sam. I’m starting to get antsy when I finally see her blue BMW pull in. Her car sparkles next to all of the plain cars around it. She walks quickly to my spot and has a bright smile on her face. She glows, with her long blonde hair and perfect white teeth. She is a life-sized Barbie doll, any quarterback’s dream girl.
“Took you long enough,” I say playfully.
“Sorry.”She smiles.
“You look beautiful.” And she does with her pink shirt, tight jeans and perfect hair.
She puts her arm around my waist and we start walking. “Thanks. You look good too.”
She is smiling, but I can tell something is up. She is wearing that fake smile, the one that I know all too well.
“Is everything okay?” I ask her.
She nods.“Yep. I’m just nervous for the first day, that’s all.”
“Don’t be.” I put my arm around her. “This is our year, babe. We are going to rule the school.” I open the door to our castle and we walk inside.
All of our friends are standing around in our lobby, probably wondering where we are. When Ethan sees me, he says something to James, who turns around.
“It’s about time you guys got here.” James shakes my hand and smiles.
“Blame it on her.” I point to Sam. “You know chicks always take forever to get ready.”
Sam lets go of my waist and I turn around. She has been pulled away by her girlfriends, who are all jumping and squealing. I will never understand girls, especially those idiots.
I turn my attention to the boys. Ethan, Nick, Tommie, and James all take turns shaking my hand and hugging me. The rest of the football team and cheerleaders crowd around us, but these are the guys I care the most about.
“This is it. Ethan slaps me on the back. “Our last year, man. Are you ready for this?”
“No doubt,” I assure him.
“I’m ready to lay some guys out,” Tommie says angrily. He is a linebacker with big muscles, a ponytail, and the constant urge to knock something over.
“Calm down dude. Let’s save that for the field.” I try to keep the conversation away from football talk for as long as possible.
“How was the Dominican Republic?” I ask Nick. Every year, we all venture off with our families to some tropical country for a couple of weeks. This year I went to Costa Rica.
“Dude, let me tell you.” Nick shakes his head and chuckles. “Dominican girls…” He laughs. “They love American boys.”
We all laugh, and we know what that means. We all have our share of secrets from our summer paradises. Some of mine are secrets that I haven’t even told them, ones that will be with me until the day that I die.
I look over at Sam and see that she is drowning. She is drowning in a sea of blonde just as I am suffocating in a mob of muscles. I wrap my arms around her waist and put my face close to hers.
“You okay?” I whisper.
She simply nods and leans her back against my chest. We stand like that until the bell rings. I nod at the guys every now and then, she laughs at the girls. And when the bell rings I take her hand and we walk to homeroom.
“Are you sure everything is okay?”I ask her once we are a few feet behind our friends. We walk slowly so they get ahead.
She nods. “I’m fine. Just first day jitters, that’s all.”
I pretend that I believe her and she pretends that she has convinced me. But deep down we both know that she is not fine. And neither am I.
“Okay, Doll.” We stop at her classroom. “I’ll see you in homeroom.”
“Okay.” She nods. “I love you.”
“Anderson, let’s go!” I look down the hall and see James and the boys waiting for me.
“I love you, too.” I kiss Samantha quickly and hurry down the hall after the guys.
“You two are nauseating,” Ethan says.
“Maybe if you would grow some balls and ask Jade out, you two could be nauseating, too.” I punch him lightly in the arm. The guys all laugh and Ethan turns red. That’s the way to do it: get the attention off of yourself and put it on someone else.
“Shut up, dude.” Ethan shakes his head.
“Locker room after homeroom?” Tommie turns to me.
“Of course.” I nod. “I’ll see you guys then.”
I walk into my homeroom just before the bell rings and slide into a seat near the back. My teacher passes out our schedules and locker combinations and winks at me when she hands me mine. Women.
I crumple up my locker combination and shoot it into the trash can by the door. It sinks in and a few people around me clap softly. My schedule looks easy: US History, English, Chemistry, and Weight Training.
Ruby comes on the announcements, smiling and confident. She talks a little too fast and says something about football tryouts, but I don’t worry about it. Coach would never cut me.
When the announcements are over, I get up before the bell rings and start out of the classroom. Sam is waiting for me outside of her classroom. I take her hand and we head to the lobby to compare schedules with everyone. Every few seconds someone greets us. We smile and wave as if we are in a parade, acknowledging the ones who deserve it and ignoring the ones who don’t.
“English second period?” I ask her.
“Fossett?” Her eyes light up and I nod. She hugs me right there in the middle of the hall. Of course everyone stares at us and makes their annoying baby sounds. I ignore them and squeeze her tightly.
“Yes!”
I put my arm around her and we keep walking. “I also have US history, chemistry, and weight training.”
“Do you have C lunch?” She asks.
“Of course.”
She seems pleased. When we get to the lobby, we let go of each other. The girls swarm around her and the guys ask me a million questions. I have weight training with all of them; coach requires it. Besides that, I don’t have class with any of them and it is probably for the best.
When the first bell rings, we grab our bags and prepare to head out. “I’m going to walk Sam to class first,” I explain. “I’ll meet you guys in the locker room.”
“Alright, dude.” Ethan nods and they all walk away.
“Do you guys start practice today?” I ask Samantha once we are headed towards her first period.
She shakes her head. “No, we don’t start until tomorrow. I am going to the soup kitchen today.”
I sigh. “Why? You know I don’t like you going over there. It’s not safe on that side of town.”The soup kitchen is near several bad neighborhoods, like Little Puerto Rico.
She rolls her eyes like a girl. “I know. But it looks good on my college applications, and I like doing it.”
“I just don’t think you should be going there alone.”
“Well, come with me then.” She squeezes my hand.
“You know I can’t.” I shake my head. “I have practice.”
“I know.”
We stop in front of her classroom and I kiss her on the cheek. “Have fun in class. I’ll see you in English.” The fight is over, and I know she’s going to go anyway so I leave it alone.
“Bye.”
I leave the math and science building and head through the gym to the locker rooms. The big room is divided into PE lockers and athletic lockers. I walk to the back where the athletic lockers are, and I can hear the laughter of my friends. They’ve already picked out their lockers when I get there.
“What’s up guys?” I throw my bags down and open my locker. Mine is the biggest, with two shelves and an extra hook.
“What’s up with Sam?” Ethan sits down on the wooden bench in front of our lockers.
“What do you mean?”
“She seemed kind of upset,” Tommie says.
I shrug. “She’s just nervous for the first day, I guess. She hates this place just like all of us.”
“I wouldn’t hate this place if I were you.” Nick shakes his head. “Big locker and a personal parking spot. Guaranteed scholarships. Coach is practically sucking your dick and everybody loves you here.”
“Plus you’ve got the best girlfriend money can buy,” James adds.
“I’d kill to be Anderson Stone for a day,” Ethan says and the guys all agree with him.
They’re idiots, all of them. Anyone who would kill to be in my shoes is an idiot. I would trade in my crown and the cleats for a pair of old tennis shoes and a dose of normalcy any day.
“Whatever guys.” I shake my head and unload my stuff into my locker. Once I’m done, I still don’t feel like leaving. So we sit around the locker room and talk and joke for a few more minutes.
“Alright.” Ethan stands up. “Let’s go get educated.”
The other guys get up and follow him, but I don’t feel like walking with them so I head towards the main building.
“I’ll see you guys later.” I wave at them and they wave back.
I walk through the empty main lobby, which looks much bigger when it isn’t filled with a million gangsters. The only other person in the lobby is Audrey Oliver, a redhead who is walking quickly with her head down.
“Whoa,” I say just before she bumps into me.
“I’m sorry,” she says quickly.
“Audrey.” I put my hands on her shoulders to steady her. “What did I tell you about walking with your head down? You’re going to walk into a wall and get yourself hurt.”
“I’m sorry,” she stutters. “I’m late for class.”
I shrug. “Me too. Who cares? It’s just the first day.”
“Yeah.” She starts to walk away but I stop her with one hand.
“Hey, is there any way we can work out a deal like last year?” I flash her a smile. “I’ve got U.S. history this year, and you know how bad I am at history. I need to get an A if I want that scholarship.”
Okay, I know it’s wrong to use someone (especially someone who drools over you) to get something you want. I hate the power most of the time, but sometimes it’s nice. Coach is all over me about my grades this year, and I know I can’t do it alone.
“Please?” I beg her and watch her melt from the inside out. I know I’ve got her.
She finally caves. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Great.” I rub her shoulder and she flinches. “Thanks, Audrey. I really appreciate it. I‘ll be sure and give you a list of all my assignments. I’ll see you around, Red,” I say and start to walk away.
I walk into history very late, but Mrs. Parham doesn’t mind. She is smitten with me and smiles big when I walk in.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say to her.
“Don’t worry about it.” She hands me a syllabus. “We can’t rush a star. Take a seat and get yourself caught up.”
A few guys in front roll their eyes. I know they hate me, hate what I can do. But I ignore it and slide into a seat in the back. Mrs. Parham continues her lecture about early Native American civilization and I tune out. I’m sure Audrey has taken this class before, and she will do very well to get me out of here alive.
After class, a few girls come up to me. “Hey Anderson,” they all giggle.
I wave and flash them a smile. “Hey ladies. How was your summer?”
“Good,” the three of them say in unison.
I leave it at that and head to the cafeteria. Rather than hang out in the lobby with everyone, I use the break to get a chicken biscuit. I eat it in four bites and wash it down with a carton of chocolate milk. I walk to English and wait for Samantha outside of our classroom. She is taking forever to primp in the bathroom.
“Hey Doll,” I say when she finally arrives.
“Sorry it took me so long,” she apologizes.
I take her hand. “Don’t worry about it.”
As soon as we walk into the classroom, I regret taking Mr. Fossett’s class. A marine, he stares me down with cold eyes, his square jaw set and clenched. He isn’t the only one staring. The whole class watches us as we take seats next to each other. They are jolly green giants, full of envy, hatred, and regretted adoration. I ignore their eyes that stare at me, willing me to burst into flames (the guys) or pay them a bit of attention (the girls).
Mr. Fossett starts before the bell even rings. “Alright, ladies and gentlemen, let’s get started. Welcome to Senior English, better known as your worst nightmare.”
A few awkward laughs flitter across the room and I mentally punch myself for not taking the easy English class with Nick and Tommie.
“This semester, we’re going to cover both American and British literature. You’ll also need to start thinking about the project that you’ve all been waiting for: senior project.”
The entire class lets out a desperate groan.
“Yes, I know.” Mr. Fossett says. “But, I have full confidence that all of you will be very well prepared for your senior project if you pay attention and do your work.”
He starts down the roster and when he gets to me, he looks at me hard. “Anderson Stone.” His voice booms like a god.
I raise my arm lazily. “Right here.”
“Stone,” The name rolls slowly off of his tongue. “The star quarterback, am I right?”
“Yes sir.” I nod.
“Interesting.” He pulls on his mustache. “I hope you don’t think that football practice or a broken fibula is any excuse for not turning in a response on Heart of Darkness.”
My face gets hot and anger boils in my gut. He’s testing me, seeing how far he can go. I bite my tongue.
“Uh, no Sir.”
“Very well, then.” He nods firmly and continues down the roll. He calls Samantha last and smiles at her when she raises her hand.
“Ah, good to see you again, Miss West.”
“You too.” Samantha smiles and looks over to at me. I stare straight ahead.
“Don’t let this boyfriend of yours keep you from doing what needs to be done this semester, alright Miss West?” He looks at me as he talks to her.
Samantha laughs and it makes my skin crawl. “Of course not.”
“The first novel you will be reading in this class is Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. It’s not an easy read, but you all aren’t juniors anymore. I expect only the best from you.” Of course he looks directly at me.
He points to the back of the room. “Before you leave class today, be sure to grab a copy of the novel from the back corner. I want you to read the first two chapters for class tomorrow. Now, let’s start talking about your senior projects.”
I turn my mind off. I’m not ready to hear about senior project, although it decides whether I graduate or not. Once class is over, I grab books for Samantha and myself and head out of the classroom quickly.
“Well, that should be an interesting class,” Samantha says and tries to keep up with me.
“Yeah, right,” I sneer. “The guy hates me.”
“He hates all jocks.”
The anger comes back. “Don’t call me that.”
“I’m sorry.” She pulls on my hand and bats her eyelashes. “Don’t be mad at me. We can do the assignments together.”
“Like I’m going to have time.”
“Come on,” she whines. “Think about it. Late night study parties at my place. And the faster we get done with our work, the faster we can…”
She squeezes my hand and I know what she means. I can’t help but smile. “Alright, my little cheerleader.” I put my arm around her and kiss her forehead. “I’ve got to get to chemistry. I’ll see you at lunch.”
I hurry outside and into the math and science building. My chemistry class is taught by a teacher who makes us call her Kate and throws Tootsie Rolls at students when they answer questions. I look around the room and figure out who would be the easiest lab partner that will do most of the work.
At the end of the class, Kate calls me up to her desk. “I want you to sit in the front tomorrow.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because your coach talked to me about how important your grades are this year. I know what it’s like to be fighting for a scholarship.” She smiles. “So I will do whatever I can to help you, but I expect you to put forth maximum effort. Is that clear?”
“Yep,” I assure her.
“Alright.” She stuffs a few Tootsie Rolls in my hand. “Now get out of here.”
I hurry downstairs where the guys are waiting.
“Where is Sam?” James asks.
I shrug. “She’s coming, I guess.”
“See, this is why I could never have a girlfriend.” Nick shakes his head. “You’re always waiting on that girl.”
“You never have a girlfriend because you can’t keep your pants on long enough to stay faithful to one.” Tommie shakes his head.
“Says the guy who just got dumped,” Ethan says quickly.
Tommie’s face turns red. “Whatever, man. Girls are stupid. All of them.”
“Even me?” A girl’s asks behind us. We turn around and see Ivy with her long blonde hair and big boobs crammed into a tight shirt.
“Especially you,” Ethan says and we all laugh.
“You guys are assholes,” Ivy whines.
“There she is,” James says before Ethan has time to hurt Ivy’s feelings.
Sam comes up behind us.
“Sorry,” she says softly. She’s been saying that a lot lately.
“Let’s go,” Nick says and we all head to the cafeteria. When we get there, it is packed. All of our other friends have reclaimed our territory in the front right corner. They fill up several booths, the soccer team in one spot, track runners in another. My friends and I sit at the long booth in the center of all the madness.
First, I have to shake hands with everyone and say quick hellos. I talk briefly about my summer with a few guys and flirt harmlessly with some of the girls. Then I follow the guys to the lunch line, where we pass all of the underclassmen. I get two hamburgers and a pile of French fries covered in chili and cheese.
We sit down and I offer Sam a fry. She doesn’t accept it, not that I expected her too. She chews quietly on hummus and crackers. The other girls pick at celery and tuna sandwiches. I’m so glad I’m not a girl.
“I saw Coach earlier,” Nick says with a mouthful of food. “He said practice is going to be intense today.”
“Good.” Tommie cracks his knuckles. “I’m ready for some intensity.”
“I’m ready to see the new cheerleaders,” Nick adds coolly.
And so, the football and girls talk begins. Their jock minds can’t comprehend much more than that at one time. Sam is lost in the girl talk of hair and chick flicks. So I sit back in my seat and float out of myself. I mute their voices and pretend that I am the only one in the cafeteria.
My mind goes somewhere else, somewhere dark. I don’t think about anything, just sit there and wish I were somewhere, anywhere but here. I nod my head occasionally. I wave mindlessly when Sam leaves with the girls. But as far as I can tell, I’m not even here.
The bell shatters my make-believe silence and I drift reluctantly back into my body. I follow the guys out of the cafeteria and we head to the gym for weight training. In the locker room, everything is chaos as the rest of the team gets their lockers situated and we all change into our workout clothes.
Coach Barnes comes in a few minutes later. “Alright fellas, get your clothes on and let’s get started. Lace your shoes tight; we’re going for a run first.”
A few of the guys groan, but I just lace my shoes without a word. I don’t mind a good run.
“I’ve got to piss,” James says and walks past me towards the bathroom. I follow him while the rest of the team starts to leave.
A few minutes later, James and I start to leave the locker room. “Damn, I forgot my water bottle.” James turns back towards the athletes’ section. “I’ll be right back.”
After a few minutes of waiting for him, I go back to see what is taking him so long.
“Can’t you read?” I hear his voice before I see him or who he is talking to. “These are the football lockers.”
I turn the corner and see James towering over a skinny kid with a gray Navy shirt on. I don’t recognize him, and he’s clearly a freshman. The look of pure terror in his eyes says it all.
“Oh, I’m sorry man. I didn’t see the sign.” The kid stumbles over his words and pulls his bag out of the locker.
James inches closer to him, so I finally speak up.
“What have we here, James?”
They both turn to me. A whole new wave of fear spreads across the kid’s face.
“Just some freshman,” James says and points to the guy. “I think he’s lost.”
The kid is holding a few papers in his hands. I see Coach Barnes’s signature on one of them and am instantly intrigued.
“What you got there, freshman?” I take the papers from him and look them over. “Football team parent consent form.” I read over the first sheet.
“I’m going out for the team,” he mumbles and pokes his chest out.
“Oh is that right? I’m Anderson Stone, the team captain.” I hold out my hand, but pull it away quickly before he can shake it. “And you should know there isn’t room for any freshmen on my team.”
The kid nods as if he’s heard that before. “Coach Barnes said it wasn’t impossible, so I’m at least gonna try. I’m new here, so I thought it would be a good way to meet people.”
James laughs. “Nice try. But you do know football is a contact sport, right? We’d kill you out there.”
“I’ve played before,” the kid says with absolutely no confidence.
“Yeah boy,” James says. “But you’ve never played for the Boomers. We’ve got some tough teams in the district.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “But we always need someone to wash our uniforms. You look like you could handle that.” I guess he doesn’t realize I’m trying to save him.
“Whatever.” He snatches the papers from me. And before we can take another step, James and I both have a hand on his chest.
“Do you know who I am?” The power-hungry monster in me surfaces. “Don’t get smart with me.”
“I’m gonna be late for gym.” He tries to push forward, but we hold him back.
“You’ll leave when we say you leave.” James gets real close to him. “You need to learn your place here, Frosh. Otherwise it’s going to be a long, hard year for you.”
“I got it.”
I shake my head, irritated. “I don’t think you do. No, ‘cause see, I still see a little bit of attitude in your eyes. And I don’t like it when freshmen get an attitude with me.”
He sighs in satisfactory surrender. “Guys, please. Just let me go.”
“What’s going on boys?”
We all turn around. Jeoff Kente, my teammate, is standing behind us. He’s on the basketball team with James and me.
“Hey Jeoff,” we say in unison. We each shake hands with him.
“Long time no see, man.” I hug him. “How was your summer?”
“Can’t complain.” Jeoff shrugs. “What’s going on here?”
“Just putting my little freshman friend in his place.” I slap the kid a few times on the back and realize I don’t know his name. “What’s your name again, Frosh?”
“Alex,” he mutters, humiliated.
“Yeah.” James chuckles. “This is Alex. He’s thinking about going out for the team.”
“So let him. Might be good to have some fresh meat on the team.” He smiles.
“Well, we told him we think he’d do a better job as a water boy.” I squeeze Alex’s shoulder. “We’re just concerned about him getting hurt out there.”
“Jeoff plays basketball,” James explains. “He doesn’t know what it’s like to play football.”
I nod. “Yeah, ’cause he quit football to be a drummer.” I give Jeoff a bit of a shove.
“I am a drummer,” Jeoff says firmly. “And I’ll show you boys how I do next semester during basketball season.”
We all laugh for a second then he points to Alex. “Why don’t you guys let the freshman get back to class?”
“Yeah, he’s not worth it.” James agrees, probably realizing that we are late. “Let’s go lift some weights.”
I nod and look at Alex. “Remember what I said, Frosh.” I give him a shove and follow James out of the locker room.
When we get to the track, coach makes us run five extra laps, fifteen total. I run in long strides and James struggles to keep up. When we are done, we head back in to the weight room, where the rest of the team is working out.
James spots me at the bench press, and then I spot him. The room is quiet, except for the occasional grunt, the clang of metal, and the hard rock music that is playing on Coach’s stereo in his office. I push myself to the limit with weights, and then push myself over the limit. I thrive off of the burn, the high of it. I pull against the pain, breathe out slowly as resistance grips itself tightly around my muscles and twists. I ride on a quickening heart rate that gets faster and faster with each pull.
A few minutes before school gets out, Coach comes into the weight room clapping his hands.
“Alright boys, you’ve done good work so far. But it’s only going to get tougher out there on the field. I want you to take fifteen minutes to get water in your systems and put your practice gear on. I want you on that field at three o’ clock sharp. Not a minute past.” He looks at me.
We head back into the locker room and I chug a bottle of water, then fill it up at the fountain and go again. When the bell rings, I hurry out to the parking lot so I can say goodbye to Sam before practice starts.
She is waiting at her car, talking to the girls. I sneak up behind her and wrap my arms tightly around her waist.
“Gotcha,” I whisper in her ear and she giggles.
“I was wondering where you were. I’ve got to get to the soup kitchen.”
“Yeah, I’ve gotta get ready for practice.” I squeeze her.
“Well don’t get hurt.” She smiles.
“You either,” I say only half-jokingly.
“I won’t.”
“And you’ll call me when you get home?”
“Of course.” She stands up on her toes to kiss me. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Doll.” I open her door and she slides in. “Be safe.”
I hurry back into school once she’s pulled away. When I get to the locker room, most of the guys are changed and I hurry into my practice gear. I tighten my cleats and put my pads on.
“Let’s go, baby.” James is just as hyped as the rest of them. We all go out onto the field together. Coach is waiting there for us and checks his watch.
“Everyone take a knee.”
We all get down on one knee and wait for the first speech of the season. “I want all of you to close your eyes.”
We look around awkwardly at each other. “I’m serious.” Coach rolls his eyes. “Close your eyes.”
I close my eyes slowly and let the darkness surround me. After a few seconds of silence, Coach begins.
“I want you to imagine yourself happy. Whether it was sometime in the past when you were younger, or maybe sometime in the future, what you want in your life. Imagine yourself as happy as you can be. Imagine the faith, the strength, the passion that it takes to be happy. It doesn’t come easy.”
I picture myself as little boy in my backyard. Before my mom left. Before things got complicated. Before football was anything but spending time with my dad, who adored me. It’s been over ten years since happy was something I could feel.
“Now open your eyes.” Coach’s voice pulls me out of my happy dream and I open my eyes with hesitance.
“Now that is the kind of faith, the kind of strength, and the kind of heart you are going to need if you want to make it to state championships this year.”
Immediately my mind shuts down.
“It’s not going to be easy. Are you a great team? Yes. But you are going to have to pull together and work your asses off if you want to win that title. You played great last season. But last season we lost. Now we’ve got to play better if we want to win. And let me tell you, boys. Winning that title…” He holds up his hand and flashes a state championship ring. “That is one of the happiest times of my life. I want that for you all.”
He pauses for a few seconds and the guys around me nod. They are all buying into this, believing every word that he says, getting themselves hyped for the season.
“So get out there and show me what you’ve got.” He claps his hands together. “Let’s go to state.”
The whole team stands up and cheers. I do too, because I’m the captain. I fulfill my captain-like duties, as I should. I am the star of the team with college coaches fighting for my arms and my record speed, a coach who puts all responsibilities on me, and a team who looks up to me.
It’s what my dad always wanted.
“Alright, down to the end of the field.” Coach points to the left in zone. “Run, don’t walk.”
I run next to my teammates down to the end of the field. And thus begins the last first practice of my life.
When practice is over, I shower quickly before the water turns cold. My muscles ache and I take my time getting dressed.
“Where are we going to eat?” Ethan stands a few feet away with a towel wrapped around his waist. I swear that kid is in love with his own body.
“I’m not too hungry yet,” James says. “That practice kicked my ass.”
“I’m kind of in the mood for ice cream.” Nick pulls his shirt over his head. “Scoops anyone?”
“I could go for some cookies and cream.” Tommie nods.
“Scoops it is.” Ethan finally starts to get dressed.
“Man, my brother works there,” James groans.
“We’ll have fun with him,” I assure James, who smiles with satisfaction.
We pile in our cars and head to Scoops a few minutes later. James rides with me because his brother, Gabe, has their truck. They are twins, but nothing alike. When we get to the shop and from the parking lot, I can see Gabe dancing around inside.
“What the hell is your brother doing, man?” Ethan squints his eyes.
“Who knows?” James shrugs. “You know he’s into the musical theater shit.”
“He’s like a girl,” Tommie says. “You definitely got all of the dude genes.” We all laugh and walk inside. The shop is a little too cold.
Gabe stops when he sees us and pulls the earphones out of his ears.
“What are you doing here?” He stares hard at James. They hate each other.
James shrugs. “We just came to get a little treat after practice. Don’t freak out.”
“I thought you were going out to dinner. Shouldn’t you do that in a restaurant?” His voice is spiteful and sarcastic.
“We decided to have our dessert first.” I smile and step towards him.
The other guy working is Joel, a pimply-faced junior that plays soccer and hangs around us sometimes. He gets up from the chair he’s sitting in and gets behind the counter.
“What can I get for you guys?” He asks nervously.
I continue to stare at Gabe. “I want pretty boy here to make mine.”
“I’m sweeping,” Gabe sneers. “Joel can scoop a cone just as good as I can.”
I shrug and move towards a table. “I don’t care. I want you to make mine. I’ll wait.” I don’t know why I don’t like Gabe. Maybe he is just an easy target.
I cross my legs and smile at him. “Go on.”
He sweeps the floor in quick, short strokes. I can tell that he’s pissed, and for some reason it gives me pleasure. The other guys order sundaes and cones from Joel, who tells them it’s on the house.
“Look at you in your apron,” I taunt Gabe. “You look like a perfect housewife. I want you to dance like you were before we came in.”
He looks at me. His eyes burn into mine.
“We saw you out there,” I say. “Now dance for me.”
“In your wildest dreams,” Gabe spits.
Tommie sits down next to me. “Oh, you been dreaming about dudes, Anderson? Why didn’t you tell me, man?”
“Shut up, Tommie.” I throw a spoon at his head. “I’ve got a girlfriend. You got a girlfriend, pretty boy?” I turn back to Gabe.
“No,” he mumbles.
“Why not?”
No response. The monster in me starts to creep up from my gut.
“I’m talking to you, queer. Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
He throws the broom down and it echoes in the empty shop. His face is red with offended fire.
“I guess because they’re all sluts,” he screams. “You would know about that, right Anderson? Why don’t you tell me about Evelyn Rhodes?
The monster claws at my chest and in less than a heartbeat, I am across the room and in his face. “What did you say to me?”
I clench my fists tightly, still coherent enough to recognize that I could break him into three pieces.
Ethan pulls on my arm. “Anderson, calm down man. Get off of him.” I push Ethan and follow him back to the table.
Gabe stares at me, a satisfied grin painted onto his freckled face. “What kind of ice cream would you like?”
“Fuck you, faggot.”
It wasn’t me that said it. It was the monster. He ripped himself from my body and took over. It was the power-hungry, football-hating, dying-to-get-out monster. Almost instantly, the human me wants to apologize. I struggle to say the words, but they evaporate with every quick breath that I release.
Gabe doesn’t react. His eyes are wide and his jaw set. Joel’s head drops towards the ground and a thick, syrupy silence suffocates the room. A few seconds later, James stands up.
“Let’s get out of here.”
We all stand up. I look at Gabe, who quickly darts his eyes away. I follow James to my truck, my legs like thick blocks of cement. I can’t believe the words that came out of my own mouth; I don’t think they believe it either.
We don’t eat dinner.
“Do you want me to take you home?” I ask James after several moments of silence.
“Nah, I’m not ready to go back yet.” He stares out the window. “You can drop me off at the church.”
“How will you get home?”
“I’ll have my dad pick me up,” he says without looking at me.
So I drop him off at the Catholic church on the corner of Crayton Street. He gets out slowly and lifts his book bag onto his shoulders.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Later, man,” I say softly.
I drive the short route home for the first time in a while. When I get in the house, the first thing I hear is Jenson’s laughter coming from the dining room. He is eating with my dad and step-mom.
“Son.” Dad looks at his watch. “I wasn’t expecting you for at least another hour.”
“Yeah,” I mumble. “I decided to come home and eat.” And I’m glad that I did. A big pan of Dad’s homemade chicken potpie is sitting in the middle of the table next to a plate of hot rolls. I go into the kitchen to get a plate and silverware. I sit down next to Jenson and scoop a large helping of chicken and vegetables onto my plate.
“How was school?” I ask Jenson.
“Fun,” he squeals.
Dad looks at me. “What about you? How was the first day?”
“It was alright.” I shrug.
“Lexi just got in,” he says. I realize he’s trying to give me a hint to acknowledge her. I take it.
“How was the beach, Lexi?” I ask the ugly blonde who ruined my life.
“Marvelous,” she says shortly. “I’m ready to go back.”
The monster tries to unleash itself again, but I force it down with big bites of chicken and bread.
“How was practice?” Dad asks to break the awkward silence. I knew the question was coming eventually.
“Intense. Hard. Good.”
“That’s good,” Dad mumbles softly. Thankfully he takes my hint that I don’t want to talk about anything right now.
When I’m finished with dinner, I read a book to Jenson in the living room while Lexi watches the news and my dad cleans up. Once Jenson is in bed, I go to my room and attempt to read the boring novel Mr. Fossett assigned us.
I take a long shower to massage my muscles and when I get out, Samantha calls. I keep my conversation with her short, scared she will say something that provokes the monster. I go to bed shortly after that, tossing and turning.
I recount the day. The number of times the monster almost came out, and the events of when it finally did. I apologize a million times in my head, knowing that it’s still not okay. This monster isn’t me. Or maybe it is. Maybe it is the real me, clawing and gnawing and dying to get out. It is the same monster that plays pretend every day at school. The monster that contemplates driving into trees or falling down a flight of stairs, praying that my knee shatters and I can never throw a football again. It is the monster that is slowly making more frequent visits. The human me, weak and dying, is making it easier for the monster to get out.
Finally my eyelids get heavy and the monster curls up into a tight ball under my chest. I soothe the monster with promises to myself that one day I will tell my dad. One day I will stop playing. The monster is dying inside of me, struggling so hard for a sweet escape. But if the monster is me…
Doesn’t that mean I’m the one dying?
