Chapter 6

Before I’mvertical the next morning, Casey comes to get Beth early again. This time it’s to set up for the pep rally, and the first thing I notice when I open my door to the hallway is the noxious smell of hairspray she’s left behind. Still half-conscious and now choking, I reach through the bathroom door to turn on the vent before returning to the safety of my bedroom.

I can get dressed first, the bathroom can wait…

I shuck my comfy pajama pants, trading them for my nice blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Tugging my home jersey on over the top, I slip out of my room to brave the fumes again. Who knew that being on the varsity cheer squad would mean so many early mornings? Thankfully Casey can take her, otherwise it would probably be me and Cam stuck taking her while Mom and Dad head out to job sites or into their offices in town.

When I’ve tousled enough product into my hair to tame it for the day and still make it manageable during our game tonight, I brush my teeth and head downstairs to make some breakfast for me and Camden before he comes to pick me up for school. By the time I hear him roll up to the curb, I’ve just finished making two breakfast burritos. I wrap them in shiny foil, grab my bag from the bench by the front door, and head out.

Glory shines with a fresh hand waxing, a sign of Cam’s nerves about this rivalry game as he leans across the cab to open my door for me and push it. I hook my elbow into the gap, opening it with a nod of thanks and handing over his breakfast before I drop my bag into the floorboard and climb in after it.

“Good morning,” I smile, unwrapping my burrito. “You ready for today?”

“Yeah,” he takes a bite before steering us onto the road. “I mean, it’s just a scrimmage. It doesn’t count, you know, like for the season standings and all that. Like a practice.”

“I know that,” I grin. “But it looks like your foot is playing bass drum for a metal band over there, so I was wondering if you did?”

He frowns, crumples up his foil into a ball, and throws it at me without looking. I laugh as I dodge, leaning back against the seat to continue eating, but I notice with some satisfaction that the anxious tapping of his knee does slow down.

We make our way down the highway and pull into the school parking lot, and I look around with a smile as I take in the chaos around us. It was too quiet over the summer, and there’s something about the rush of cars and students hurrying back and forth between the buildings that makes it really feel like we’re back. Movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention as Cam stretches his arms over his head, his uniform riding up just the slightest bit before I turn my back to him and grab our backpacks from the truck.

“Jesus,” I huff. “What do you have in here? Bricks?”

“Some of us actually studied last night, Graves,” he snorts, grinning as he takes his bag from my shoulder and slides it onto his own and starts off for the door.

“It was the first day!” I cry, outraged. “There’s no way you had homework, we have most of the same classes. I didn’t have any homework.”

“It’s kind of like… Pregaming,” he has the nerve to look genuine. “For when I’m too busy to study all at once because of football.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I’m serious,” he laughs. “You know my dad. If I ever let my grades slip because of football he’d let Coach pull me. It’s not worth it.”

“I guess so,” I shrug. “You should just do what I do.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“It’s easy,” I smirk. “Just find a friend who’s smarter than you and study with them.”

Cam rolls his eyes, shaking his head with a smile and shoving my shoulder off-balance as we step off the curb to cross the street to the school entrance in front of the gym. Most of our classmates have to report to their first period class and will come down to the gym together to get pumped up for spirit day and the game tonight, but students who play the in-season sport get to check in with our coaches and go straight to the pep rally. I like the break, because it feels a little special to be waiting for our classmates up in the stands when the rally starts. We find Coach Smith and his clipboard at the door, then go the long way around to the back entrance of the gym which opens to the side we’ll actually be sitting on.

The gym has transformed for the pep rally, both sets of bleachers pulled out to hold the students that will pile in when the bell rings, covered in the front by long white banners. They’re scrawled with writing, decorated by the cheerleaders, and the overall color scheme for the posters of the day is Red and Black, the colors of the opposing team, crossed with our own blue and white. Down on the floor the cheerleaders are stretching, their bright blue uniforms standing out boldly against the pale wood of the gym floor.

As the football teams file in we take our place on the far set of bleachers, JV and varsity and the freshman teams all blending and mashing together. Cam and I take a place on the front row, where we can actually watch Beth and Casey perform. The captains for each team stay down on the floor, nodding as they listen to instructions from the Assistant Principal Mr. Myers about what their role will be in the rally today.

The bell rings, and we all settle in to wait for the drumline to collect classes through the halls of the school and lead the student body in to take seats on the other side of the bleachers. The band, which has taken up residence against the far wall, begins to play some of the songs they’ve been practicing. Before long people file in, the sounds of laughter and chatter filtering through the air. The tinny whoosh of pompoms clapping together makes me wince as the girls start to dance, hopping side to side and clapping their pommed hands together in front of them. Their pony tails bounce, accented by the huge silver bows in their hair. Well, except for Beth, who has her short hair only half up with the same large bow breaking the dark curls in half.

The drumline takes their place next to the rest of the band, and at the director’s signal the music cuts off with a final blast. We clap as the girls on the floor whoop and cheer, shaking their metallic poms and waving one hand in the air while the other points towards the ground. I mimic Beth’s little half-step thing when she turns to face our direction, and I swear to you that if looks could kill I would be toast. I swallow, suddenly avoiding eye contact, and instead take the opportunity to look at the banners across from us. I crane my neck to get a good look at the ones in the corner, and snort a laugh.

“I would argue,” I whisper as Mr. Myers gives his opening speech, leaning over so only Cam can hear, “that ‘Crash the Wildcats’ was not the best they could do.”

“Shh,” he chastises, betrayed by a twitch in the corner of his mouth.

“I mean it! Come on, you can’t tell me you can’t think of anything better. Like, I don’t know, ‘Kill the Wildcats’. Okay, maybe not, that’s a little aggressive…”

“You’re a better ball player than cheerleader,” he mumbles, kicking the side of my foot with his own. “Better leave that to the other Graves sibling. Now shush, I’m trying to listen.”

I settle back in my seat, a satisfied smile across my face and arms folded across my chest. When Casey turns and makes eye contact I raise a hand to wave vaguely, and she smiles as they get into position for their routine. The pop song I heard them practice to last week is piped through the sound system, and they begin. It looks even more refined than it did then, and I find it hard to look away. Seeing it from the back is no less impressive, and when they freeze in an ending pose I stand up to clap and cheer loudly.

The girls grin and bounce off from center court, waving their arms high and kicking their feet behind them as they find a spot along the side out of the way. Mike Samson takes the mic from Mr. Myers and stands at center court in front of Beth, beaming his most charming smile at the crowd as he gives them a speech. We shout along at all of the right times, providing support, and clap as he winks and points into the crowd before handing the mic over to the JV captain.

I sort of tune out the rest of the speeches as I look around the gym, soaking in the atmosphere of the first pep rally of the year. This may not be a “real” game in the UIL standings, but no one here is taking it any less seriously. I startle when people begin to stand around me, realizing the band is playing again and students are filing out the double doors on either side of the gym. We join the herd, making our way to the single set of doors on our side of the gym, everyone taking a spirit ribbon from the cheerleaders as they pass through.

Casey stands at our door, beaming with shining eyes still feeling the high from her performance as she peels the sticker back off the top of a ribbon and smooths it intimately over my chest. I feel a flush rise to my cheeks as she winks at me before turning to Cam and handing him one as well. We continue down the hall, following the stream of students to the main passage.

“Well that was very… horny, back there.” Cam comments.

“Yeah,” I groan, pulling my shirt out in the front to look at the words pressed into the ribbon. “I told you she’s been sort of… Persistent, lately.”

“Have you told her it makes you uncomfortable?”

“No,” I rub the back of my neck as we join the larger crowd funneling back to the classrooms, hiking my bag higher on the other shoulder. “I’ve sort of just been ignoring it?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nods. “That sounds healthy.”

“Well!” I frown. “I don’t know how to bring it up without hurting her feelings.”

“So, you’re just not going to talk about it?”

“Pretty much.”

“And how do you see that playing out, long term?”

“I don’t know.” My face screws up to one side, and I wince. “Think there’s any chance she’ll suddenly become convinced that if we have sex, she will get pregnant and die?”

“Sources say no,” he snorts, pointing a finger at me as he turns to walk backwards down B hall to his class. “Talk to her, Elliot.”

“I don’t know how!” I know I’m whining, but I can’t even help it.

“Figure it out!” Cam says helpfully, turning forward and raising his hand in a wave as he disappears into the crowded hallway.

“Sure,” I roll my eyes, muttering to myself as I make my way to history class. “Figure it out… I’ll just, figure it out.”

Hey, Casey! You want me to take off my clothes, and touch you with no clothes? No thanks, the thought sort of makes me develop hives. Thanks for offering, though!

Yeah. That would go over well.

My head’s a mess all through history, for the rest of the day really. Thankfully most of the other guys are a little on edge before our first game, so I blend in just fine. When the bell rings at the end of math class I shove my things into my bag, throw it over my shoulder, and make my way to the athletics building.

We have to be fed and at the other school’s stadium at five thirty to start warming up. Because it’s the local rivalry game, we each have to find our own ride to the field, so a lot of us are starting to get ready here then just planning to get something to eat and rest a bit before we go, because it will pass a lot quicker than new players would think. Cam and I meet up at Glory and load up, tossing our bags into the back. Around us other players pair up, carpooling to make things easier at the other stadium.

Cam and I grab a quick dinner and return to the truck, sipping on water on our way to the game. Just down the highway and across a few corn fields, the spire of the other teams’ football stadium rises higher than anything else in town. Red and black flashes from everywhere you look in the stadium, from the seats to the scoreboard. I crane my neck as we park, taking in the flags sitting dully in the heat of this breezeless summer day, and start to feel a knot form in my stomach.

As we pass through the gate to the parking lot I see the cheerleaders setting up in front of the visitor stands, hanging their banners from the pep rally this morning on the chain link fence that separates the staggered benches from the field and carefully arranging their bags and props on the turf track. I wave to Casey and Beth as we approach, but we turn off before we pass them to go under the stands to the visiting team dressing room.

We aren’t the first ones here, but the room is quieter than usual as we change and start warming up before the coaches get here and start running us through official drills. By the time they do I think I’m ready, in a good headspace, until we step onto the field for the first time. The guys on the other side look so big, and that’s from across the field. Their angry red uniforms blaze against the green turf, red eyes shining from the front of their black helmets in the light look almost alive.

I swallow hard, trying to force down the ball of nerves that has suddenly found purchase in my throat. It’s never been as difficult to listen for Coach’s instructions than it is in this moment… There’s some kind of weird echo, like I’m underwater, and everything he says is coming from so far away. Some part of me is aware as I catch the ball, toss it back, and reset. When the rest of my team starts filing back into the locker room I follow them, being jostled on all sides, but barely paying attention.

Cam puts his hand on my shoulder, brow furrowing in concern, but I wave him off with a smile and a nod as Coach Baxter comes into the room and starts a speech. He intones the importance of giving it our all, of trying our hardest even though this is pre-season, that this game doesn’t hold any less weight than any other… And then, before I know it, we’re following Samson out of the locker room and getting ready to run back onto the field, this time to be seen by a stadium full of spectators.

Something about this feels so much more real than it did last year, like that was just practice and I’m finally here for the actual show. I’ve done this so many times, suited up and come out to play a game of football in front of some parents and classmates. But this time, playing a game on the varsity team, just feels like… more.

I shake my hands out as we stand around the corner of the cinder block storage building, preparing to get this thing started, and it’s like I black out. I’m vaguely aware of the action around me as we run, bursting through the reusable banner in front of the large inflatable helmet as music rings through the air, but it all comes in flashes. The next time I’m fully present I’m standing still with my helmet in my hand in line on the field, listening to the National Anthem.

My hand flies up to cover my heart, and I clap when the girl with the microphone sings the last note and waves her way off the field. We file onto the sidelines and take up position standing in front of the benches. Around me my teammates pull their knees high or sit to flex their calves into a stretch, keeping warm in case they’re called based on the results of the Captain’s first call. I watch Samson’s face from the sidelines, my toe tapping a nervous beat against the turf as they toss a coin into the air. When it lands the captains nod, shake hands, and go trotting back to the sidelines to deliver the report.

“We’re on the return,” he huffs, and the Coaches turn to call players onto the field.

With a start, I realize he just said my name. I blink, looking over my shoulder for confirmation. Behind me Cam raises an eyebrow, tapping the small of my back and gesturing for me to move forward. In a daze I step into the huddle, nodding dumbly along as Samson gives a last minute pep talk, and jog onto field into the position I’ve taken a hundred times on the junior varsity team.

I breathe slowly, trying to regulate my heartbeat and regain my focus. There’s a tightness in my chest that won’t seem to go away, and my breath is trying to come too fast every time my attention slips from it. I shake out my hands and stomp in place, physically grounding myself, and take one last expansive breath. Releasing it through my nose, I finally feel myself center just as the kicker nods to the ref.

The whistle blows, the ball is kicked… Higher and higher it soars, turning end after end, and with a few steps back and a lunge to the side I know I’ve got it, and then… I do. It’s in my arms. I just caught that ball. My first play, in a varsity game, and I’ve caught the ball. A bit of a stunned smile starts to rise across my face.

“Graves!” someone yells, snapping me from my thoughts. “Go!”

Right!

I lunge forward, eating up the yardage with my quick stride, and avoiding targets as I go. My quick footwork comes into play, allowing me to twist away just at the last second, bolting on towards the fifty yard line. Before long that too is behind me, the players in red on either side seem to almost move in slow-motion as I see them come at me and anticipate the best moves to avoid them. I’m crossing the twenty when I think for sure I’m toast, but a wall of blue appears at my side and blocks the tackle as I slip through the narrow window and stride through.

My stomach jumps into my throat, and I press with as much force as I can against the turf to get an extra burst of speed… right over the line into the end zone. In the stands our band starts to play the fight song, and I turn, dumbfounded, into the excited cheers and slaps on the back from my teammates. I jog off the field as the defensive line prepares to reset, floating on cloud nine.

Now that the adrenaline is coursing through my veins, I can’t seem to think of just what had me so flustered before. This game feels like any other I’ve played in high school, no harder than it was on JV. What is different is me.

Starting this game, scoring that first goal… I want to feel that again. I’m going to apply myself, week after week, to be sure I keep that starting position. I scoot closer to the edge of the bench, catching my breath and watching the designated kicker jog onto the field as they set up to try for the extra point.

The first play is a good omen for the game. Each time I step onto the field I feel energy coursing through my veins, clearing my head and powering me through each play. Spirits remain high, and in the last quarter we are up 31-27 and the clock is counting down. My legs are spread on the bench, I’m leaning in and covering my mouth with both hands as I watch our D line making their final stand.

When the clock lands at zero, and we’re still ahead, our team jumps to our feet to cheer. We’ve done it… for the first time in five years, we’ve won our rivalry game. The after-game formalities pass by in a blur of blue and red jerseys, handshakes and mumbled congratulations, and before I know it I’m in the locker room surrounded by whooping teammates as we change out of our uniforms.

“Great game, guys,” Mike grins, tossing his captain’s jersey into a bag. “What a start to the season, huh?”

“Yeah,” Cam grins. “Killer over here getting us started with that touchdown.”

Cheers erupt around us, and I feel a flush crawl up my back and neck to my cheeks. Chris Jenson claps my shoulder as he bumps his way past, in a hurry to get packed up and out the door.

“I’m starving,” he proclaims. “Burgers and shakes? Mike will buy.”

“Mike will not buy,” Samson rolls his eyes but smiles good-naturedly. “But I could go for dinner. Holt, Graves, y’all wanna come with?”

“I don’t know, a burger doesn’t sound great,” Cam glances at me.

“Well,” Chris checks the time on his phone. “Breakfast starts in half an hour?”

“I could go for a taquito,” Cam shrugs, smiling. “What do you think?”

“Yeah,” I hike my bag onto my shoulder. “Sounds great, let’s go. I’ll just text my mom and let her know I’ll be home late.”

Jenson claps us both on the shoulder and we stomp our way out of the locker room, still riding the high of our win, until we reach the parking lot. Mike leads Chris and a few other guys over to his black pickup truck, lifted so high off the ground that Colton Harrel has to grab the bar and pull himself into the backseat, and I wave as we drive past them towards Main Street. I reach into my bag and pull out my cell to text Mom but when I do I’m surprised to see a text already waiting there, this one from Casey.

Hey, where are you?

I don’t see you, down at the field

Cam and I are starving we’re heading to get some food with some of the guys

K.

Do you wanna come with us?

Nope.

Shit.