November 17: Jeoffrey

Basketball season changes everything. It makes everything a little more manageable. With marching band season coming to a close, I need something to keep my mind occupied. Basketball practices mean getting home later every night. They mean not having to ride the bus with my friends in the afternoon. They mean running and lifting weights and feeling some kind of energy. Basketball games mean screaming fans, packed gyms, and feeling like a star. Away games mean getting out for a little while. And getting home even later. It means being away.
Escape.
The only thing I hate about escaping from the suffocation of my house and Cody’s angry fists is leaving Damien to deal with him. Damien gets extra chores, and if something goes wrong, he is the one punished for it. I hardly get to see my mom during basketball season. She works too much to make it to the games. And besides, five dollars for a ticket is not in our budget right now. So I sneak Damien in when I can.
This week we played our first game. We won by over twenty points. With football season running long, half of our team misses some of the practices. But tonight, we are celebrating major wins for both teams. And the guys told me I had no choice but to be there.
“You’ve got to come,” James had said Thursday after practice. “The whole team is going to be there. “
“Support your fellow teammates, right Jeoff?” Anderson threw a towel at me.
“What if you guys don’t win?” I teased.
They all just laughed.
“You can ride with us,” our point guard, Brandon, told me. “I’m driving.”
I really did not have any excuse not to go. I hate the taste of alcohol, but there is no law that says you have to drink if you are at a party. And the truth is I would rather be hanging out with the team than sitting around getting into trouble with Keyan and the guys. And God knows I do not want to be anywhere near Cody for a whole Saturday. So I said yes. And I pray that I do not regret that decision.
Regrets are for those who do not take chances.

Brandon convinces me to drive his fancy black sports car so that he can drink tonight. I barely have a license, but he tells me that he trusts me.
“You break her, you die.” He hands me the keys.
I wind through the streets of the nicest neighborhoods I have ever been in. Every house has lights in the yard that cast shadows on it, showcasing just how huge it is. Brian’s is no different. I park the car carefully across the street and get out before I can break anything.
Brandon and three of our teammates pile out of the tiny car and get their beer out of the trunk. I stuff the keys in my pocket and try to brace myself for what is about to happen. And then I realize where I am. I remember who I am with. With this crowd, anything is possible. And I have been taught to expect the worst.
Anything could happen.

Unlike most of my generation, I can have a good time without drinking. Luckily I am used to all kinds of smoke, because the smell is enough to knock someone down upon entering the house. I follow my teammates inside and shake hands with a few people in the foyer. It is packed with people from various team and cliques.
Several minutes later, the elite show up. James and Anderson walk in carrying cases of beer with Ethan and Tommie behind them.
“It’s about time you guys showed up,” I say.
“Jeoff!” James shakes my hand and slaps me on the back. “I can’t believe you actually came.”
“I told you I’d be here.”
“You won’t regret it,” Anderson assures me. “You want a beer?”
“I’m good.” I shake my head.
“We’re going to play pong outside.” He takes a swig from a can of beer. “You want in on it? I’ll drink for you.”
I shrug. “Sounds good.” I decide that if I have to be here until my friends are ready to leave, I may as well have a good time. I follow James through the kitchen with a bottle of water in my hand.
“You look good, man.” James puts his arm around my shoulders. “I’m digging the tank top.”
I am wearing an old, yellow Nike tank top that I found in Keyan’s closet, a pair of my nicest jeans, and a black “Members Only” jacket that my mom splurged on last Christmas. My snapback Chicago Bulls hat is one I found in the locker room one day after practice. The outfit cost pennies compared to the expensive name brands James is wearing, and he probably knows that. But he does not seem to care, so I take the compliment.
“Thanks, man. You look good, too.”
The deck outside is pretty crazy. There are a bunch of guys from various teams crowded around the table with girls hanging from their arms and spilling red drinks everywhere. James throws his hands up in the air, a beer in each of them.
“I brought a new partner, boys!”
Everyone starts clapping and I cannot help but smile. I have to admit it feels good being wanted. These people, who live on a completely different planet from me, somehow push that aside and accept me. That does not happen very often around here. I thank God for my jump shot and my mother’s good job of raising me.
Mama’s parenting did nothing for my beer pong skills. James teaches me how to find my form and eventually, I become pretty good at it. For every ball the other team makes, James drinks for the both of us. He doesn’t seem to mind.
“You’re so good!” Caroline, from the cheerleading squad, puts her arm around my waist. “I can’t believe you’re sober.”
“Thanks,” I say and inch away from her. I’m not interested in her wandering hands, the gin on her breath, or the cleavage tumbling out of her shirt.
The next team up is a kid from the soccer team. I cannot believe it when Audrey Oliver steps up beside of him with a cup in her hand. She chugs half of the cup before we even start the game. The guy pours more alcohol into her cup and smiles to his friends.
“What’s she doing here?” I ask James.
“Who cares?” He shrugs and dunks his ball into a cup of water. “All that matters is that we beat her!”
Against my better judgment, I play against Audrey and her guy. Every time I sink a ball into one of their cups, she guzzles alcohol. This cannot be normal. Am I the only one noticing that Audrey Oliver, the biggest geek in school, is standing at the end of the table drinking rum like it is apple juice? There is something weird in the air- chance. Everyone is taking entirely too many chances tonight.
When does chance become risk? And when does a risk become a hazard?
After several undefeated games, Ethan and Anderson beat us. I leave the table and my teammates and head back into the kitchen. The party is getting wild, with people in every inch of space. I make my way through the kitchen and into the living room where the music is pulsing and a hundred bodies move with it.
“Dance with me!” Caroline pulls my arm and drags me into the middle of the floor. She moves in front of me and sways her hips to the music.
Across from me, Samantha is dancing with someone. It is dark, except for the flashing strobe light. But from what I can see, it is Riley moving behind her. People are definitely taking too many chances tonight. But I decide to forget about it and press my body against Caroline’s. You only live once, right?

When the smoke and body heat becomes too much, I work my way through the house to get outside. In the foyer, I see Riley follow Samantha upstairs. They are shouting at each other. Investigating would be too tiring; and I’m already exhausted.
“What’s up, Jeoff?” Crash Law stands on the front porch with a beer in his hand and a cigar in his mouth. “How’s it going?”
“Good, man.”
“Didn’t think I’d see you tonight.” He takes a puff from the cigar and offers it to me. To both of our surprise, I take it.
“Me either.” I shrug and take a drag. The cigar is flavored and tastes good. It calms my grating nerves for a second. “I thought I might need a change.”
“Change is good.” He nods and takes the cigar back. “You drinking?”
“Nope.”
“Not that much change, huh?” He chuckles.
“I guess not.”
He heads back into the house and I walk down the sidewalk. The night is cool and the air is eerily still, despite the music that echoes through the windows and walls.
Over the loud music, the crashing of bodies against each other, and the shouts of everyone trying to talk over everyone else, I hear someone crying. To my right, a girl is sitting on the curb. She is crouched over with her head in her lap and her hands over her head. A pair of ridiculously high heels sits next to her. She sniffles and gasps as her back heaves up and down in an ungraceful arch.
I step a few inches closer and realize it is Evelyn. I should have known. Nobody else has hair that wild or heels that high. My heart stops and then quickens almost instantaneously.
“Are you alright?”
She stops gasping and slowly lifts her head. Under the spotlight of the street lamp, I can see her makeup is smeared all over her face. Her cheeks are puffy and red, her eyes swollen and wet. Her breasts are about to spill out of her too-short dress. Her hair swirls around her like a tangled, fiery tornado. Despite the storm she has become, she is stunning.
“Just walk away.” She looks down in her lap. “That’s what everyone else has done. They just keep on walking. It’s like I don’t even exist.”
“A guy can’t just walk away when they see a girl crying on the side of the street.” I stuff my hands in my pockets and inch my way closer to her. “That just wouldn’t be right.”
“A gentleman, huh?” She sneers. “You only have to be polite to women who deserve it. I’m no lady.” Her voice is raspy from crying, deep from being Evelyn, and strained from trying to hold onto herself. It intoxicates me.
I sit down next to her and wrap my arms around my knees. I am careful not to sit too close. The last thing I want to do is run my dream girl off before I’ve barely been able to speak to her.
We sit there in heavy silence for a few seconds. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, you know.”
“Why not?” She laughs. “Nobody else seems to have a problem with it.”
“Who cares what they think?”
“Easy for some kid on the basketball team to say.” She rolls her eyes. I do not know whether I should take this as an insult that she is assuming things, or as a compliment- because she knows about me. “I guess it’s just easier for some people.”
“Easy?” I try to keep my voice down. “Don’t talk to me about easy, Evelyn.”
She shrugs. “You come to school, everyone loves you, you do your work, and you go home. You have friends, fans. Hell, I’m sure you’ve probably already got all of your college bullshit lined up. Sounds pretty ideal to me.”
“That’s the problem with people,” I tell her. “They assume too much.”
“So I’m wrong?” She looks at me. “None of that is true?”
“It might be.” I stare hard at her. “But you don’t know the reasoning behind it. You don’t know why I play basketball. You don’t know why I work hard in school. You don’t know.”
“Well, tell me.”
I realize that she has finally stopped crying. The black makeup starts to firm up on her face but she does nothing about it. So I do not say anything. I consider spilling everything, letting it pour out of me like the vodka she lets spill out of the bottle beside of her. Deciding that I could easily scare her away with the truth, I give her a condensed version of it.
“I’ve got to get out of here.”
She remains quiet for a minute, and then pours the last bit of alcohol onto her tongue. “You aren’t the only one.”
“Why are you out here, Evelyn?” I take the bottle from her. “What happened?”
“Boys are stupid,” she tells me. “And I forgot that for the tiniest second, and I got fucked over. That’s what happened.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head. But she also keeps talking. “Riley and I were never official, you know? He wasn’t my boyfriend, and I wasn’t his girlfriend.”
Riley. Of course.
She continues with slurred, loopy words. “But at the end of the day, I felt something there. I know what everyone thinks about me. They think I’m dirty. They think I’m just some stupid slut who uses her body to get what she wants. They think I’m not worth anything. Don’t they?”
“That’s not true,” I tell her.
She closes her eyes. “Don’t lie! It’s the truth. I am a slut, and I do use my body. And I am worthless. I’m a fucking idiot, because no matter how many times I get let down, I believe that one day a guy will be different. I keep telling myself that something will change. I was crazy to think he could change. Because nobody ever changes, do they?”
I am not sure how to answer. Instead of thinking about what I would say, I put myself in KT’s shoes and think about what my best friend would say. He was always so much better at giving advice and talking to girls than I was. In my head, I reach out to him. Help me out, KT. Help me help this girl.
“You’re not crazy. People change,” I tell her. “But they only change for themselves. They will only change because they want to. You want Riley to turn into your perfect, sweet, loyal, committed boyfriend, right?”
She sighs, and I take it as a confirmation.
“Until Riley wants to become that for you or someone else, he’s going to keep doing what he does.” I clasp my hands together and force my nerves down before I continue. “Until you start believing and acting like you are worth something, nobody else is going to believe it. You can only change yourself.”
She is quiet and I sit next to her in our quiet bubble. That bubble bursts when she starts to cry again.
“I’m sorry.” She covers her face. “You probably think I’m a total idiot. What kind of girl falls for Riley Sutton?”
“All of them,” I say.
That makes her laugh and relief washes over me. She scoots closer to me and her hair tickles my arm.
“I’m not like other girls.” She wipes her face on her jacket. “And Riley is an asshole. I hope he has fun with that little…“
I wait for her to finish. I am sure that some pretty terrible words are about to come out of her mouth, and I think she is sure of it to. But before she lets them out, I can see her thinking about it. And her face softens. And finally, she finishes.
“I hope he is happy.”
I am not sure what else to say, but I don’t think she needs me to say anything else. She rests her head on my shoulder and sniffs.
“Don’t tell anyone I’m weak,” she says with her mouth pressed against my arm. “They’ll eat me alive.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Why haven’t we ever talked before?” She asks without lifting her head. “I mean, I’ve always known who you were. I guess I never thought you would be so… smart.”
“Yeah, most people don’t.” I chuckle. “It comes with the skin color.”
“That’s stupid.” Her voice has become a whisper.
A few seconds later, the sound of footsteps quickly approaching snaps both of us out of our daze. To my right I see a group of people walking towards us. From the silhouettes of baggy jeans and puffy jackets, I can tell they do not belong here. When they get closer and I hear Spanish flittering from their mouths at warp speed, I realize that something is very wrong.
“What the hell?” Evelyn looks up.
“Shh,” I tell her.
When she realizes who they are, she grabs onto my arm and tightens her grip. Her nails dig into my skin, but I do not mind. A few seconds later, Manny Aviles and several of his friends walk past us. He looks down at me, squints his eyes, and clenches his jaw. Panic stirs from inside of me.
But he isn’t here to see me.
They keep walking. Towards Brian’s house.
“Come on,” I urge Evelyn. I stand up and hold my hand out for her.
She struggles to get up and grabs her shoes. I pull her around the house through the side yard and around to the back deck. She follows me up the stairs and into the house. Brian is standing in the kitchen making drinks for a couple of girls. I let go of Evelyn’s hand and hurry to the counter.
“What’s up man?” He smiles. He is clearly more intoxicated than the last time I saw him a couple of hours ago.
“Brian.” I get close to him. “Manny and his crew just rolled up.”
His eyes get wide. “What? What are they doing here?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “But they didn’t look like they were here for the beer pong or the dancing. You feel me?”
He nods and hurries past me.
I find Brandon and the other guys playing flip cup in the dining room. I hurry over to him and pull him right out of the game.
“What the fuck, Jeoff?” He is wasted. “We’re going to lose!”
“Manny Aviles is here,” I tell Brandon. “I don’t have a good feeling about this. We need to leave.”
“He’s probably just here for the party, man!” He slaps me on the shoulder. “Just have some fun.”
I look at Evelyn, who is just as freaked as I am. It reads all over her makeup-smudged face. I pull Brandon’s keys out my pocket and look him straight in the eye.
“You can either leave with me, or you can stay. But I’m getting out of here right now.”
He knows I am serious, despite the alcohol in his system begging him to stay. He rounds up the other guys, who are pissed that I’m making them forfeit. Clayton and Will decide to stay, and I do not really care. Brandon and Matt follow me though, and we head out to the foyer.
“Where is Riley Sutton?”
Manny is standing in the foyer with his gang. Everyone stands around him, completely shocked that he is here. I see in all of their faces that they are terrified. The girls cower behind their boys, and the boys search as well as they can to see if Manny has a gun on him.
Nobody answers, so he pushes through the crowd towards the living room. Alex comes through the front door a few seconds later. Evelyn is still behind me.
“Jeoff, have you seen Riley?” Alex asks. His face is flustered and I know he must have just had an encounter with the Kings.
“I saw him go upstairs about an hour ago.” I point towards the stairs. “Look kid, things are about to get real in here. Do you need a ride home?”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
A few seconds later, the music is off and people are yelling. Glass crashes against walls, and the room next to us pulsates with adrenaline. I grab Evelyn’s hand.
“Let’s go!”
She follows me outside, with Alex right next to us. Matt decides to stay, but Brandon trails behind us. I know he wants to stay and see what is going on.
“Can we please stay?” Brandon begs me. “This could be the fight of the year!”
I unlock the door to his car and let the others in behind my seat. “Fight of the year means blood, broken bones, and lots of damages. That means police. Police mean drinking tickets. You trying to lose that scholarship before you even sign the contract?”
Brandon sighs at the weight of reality and slips into the passenger seat. He is nearly passed out before I can even start the car. My hands shake as I put the key into the ignition and put the car into drive. With a passed out Brandon in the front, and a panicked and crying brother and sister in the back, I press the gas and get us out as quickly as possible.
This is what happens when you take a chance. You risk everything for one night of escape, and everything can go sour in an instant. But in the mirror, I can see Evelyn staring out her window. The faintest smile is wedged onto her face, while tears still stream down her cheeks. Maybe taking this chance was worth it, if even only for those few moments I had with her. Perhaps I should take chances more often.

Chance can change everything.