The League (15 page)

I showed up to the fifth game ready to play football. I wasn’t afraid of Spencer Randle. I wasn’t afraid of getting tackled. I just wanted to help the Idiots win.

Since José never gave me the ball on offense, I concentrated on defense. My job was to stick with Julian. But he was a rookie like me, so he didn’t get a lot of action either.

Until game five.

About halfway through the game that day, Herc finally called a play for Julian.

Right before the snap I could tell something was up, because Julian kept looking over his shoulder at Herc. I took a step back so Julian couldn’t get a jump on me. After the snap, Julian took off up the right sideline. I figured there was no way Herc would throw deep to a rookie, so when Julian made a move to the inside, I turned to follow him. Except Julian didn’t actually go inside. He hit the accelerator and kept going. I’d bitten on the head fake and couldn’t do anything but run after him. That was what I was doing when Herc hit him in stride for a long touchdown.

José put his arm around me after the play. “The next time he makes a move like that, jam him.”

“Jam him?”

“Yeah, get in his way. Slow him down. Knock him off his route.”

“Isn’t that against the rules?”

“Man, this isn’t the NFL. As long as you don’t push a receiver down and sit on him, you can do whatever you want.”

The next time we were on defense, I lined up across from Julian as usual. This was the same Julian I’d always been too scared to stand up to, even when he tied my shoes together or filled my batting helmet with dirt. Now I was about to jam him. It felt like revenge. “Ready to get burned, Parker?” Julian asked me.

“You couldn’t burn me with a blowtorch,” I said, playing farther off the line as Herc took the snap. Julian burst forward, ready to start his route, but I was already in motion and had the momentum. I didn’t just jam him. I popped him with everything I had, shoulders first, right into the high part of his chest. Payback for years of treating me like I wasn’t even a person.

Julian bounced backward and landed on the ground in a sitting position. He wasn’t hurt, but a look of shock crossed his face.

“Are you crazy, Parker?” he said. “You can’t hit me like that. I don’t even have the ball.”

“You’re not gonna get the ball either if you keep falling down.”

Julian stood up and got in my face. He was still three inches taller than me, but I didn’t back away. “So that’s how it is now?” he said.

Some of the other players were gathered around me and Julian, ready for one of us to take the first swing. I said, “This is the League of Pain, not the League of Please Don’t Hit Me. If you don’t like it, find another sport.”

I heard a few oohs from the other guys. I had never heard anyone say
ooh
about anything I said.

“I know what it’s called,” Julian replied after a moment. “I’m not stupid.”

“No, you’re a Moron.”

A few people laughed. Julian blinked, looking almost embarrassed.
Good
, I thought. Now he would know how it felt to be put down in front of other people. I wasn’t about to go into the bully business myself, but if giving Julian a hard time made him think twice about doing it to someone else, it was worth it.

Herc didn’t throw to Julian for the rest of that possession. The Morons ended up punting and we got the ball back deep in our own territory.

“Get ready,” Julian said, glancing across the line of scrimmage. “What goes around comes around.”

José called out the play as my toes danced in my shoes. I was about to get so open he’d have to throw to me. All because Julian wanted to hit me.

When the play started, Julian and I ran straight toward each other. But at the moment I expected him to hit me, I dropped to the ground and rolled right underneath him. When I popped back to my feet, Julian was six steps behind me. I waved my arms at José. Without hesitating, he fired the ball to me as I crossed the field from right to left. I caught the pass in stride and turned upfield. By that time the rest of the defense knew I had the football and they came after me like a swarm of bees. I thought about getting out of bounds to avoid the contact, but up ahead, I could see the end zone. It was so close, I had to go for it. So I turned back inside, barely slowing down. The defense had been coming so fast, they couldn’t change directions. The only thing between me and the end zone was twenty yards of dirt and rocks. I crossed the goal line and dropped the football. It was my first touchdown in the League of Pain.

I hope it won’t be my last
, I thought as I took my time heading down the trail that led away from the field.

“Hey, Parker!” I heard someone yell while I was riding my bike slowly through the part of the park that was mostly thick forest.

After stopping to turn and look, I saw Spencer Randle huffing and puffing up the path. I almost laughed thinking that a month ago the sight of Spencer coming up behind me in the middle of a dark forest would have been my worst nightmare. Now I was actually glad to have somebody to walk with.

“What’s up,” I said, hopping off my bike.

“Sweet touchdown today,” Spencer replied between heavy breaths. “I didn’t know you could move like that.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice running away from people who are bigger than me.”

Spencer looked at me like he was going to respond, but he just nodded and frowned. I had a feeling that was as close as I would ever get to an apology from him.

We walked together until we got to the park entrance, where we split and went our own ways. I rode off alone, wondering if that was Spencer in a rare friendly mood, or if that was Spencer trying to be my friend.

After dinner, I told Evan all about my touchdown.

“Stand there,” I said, pointing to a spot about ten feet away from me. “That’s where Julian was. When I start running, come toward me.”

“Got it,” Evan said.

We acted it out in slow motion. I showed her how
I made Julian miss me. “Then I was wide open. I mean wiiiiide open. José, he’s the QB, hit me and I just went …
boom
 … supersonic. The next thing I knew I was in the end zone.”

“Your talent would be wasted on the golf course,” she said. “Imagine if your parents had made you do that. I mean, nothing against golf, but this is way cooler.”

Evan gave me a high five. We held hands in midair. It wasn’t like holding hands in a movie theater, but it was close, and I liked it. I wondered if she did too.

“You want to know what happened at the pool today?” she said after we had unlocked hands.

“What?” In all the excitement, I’d forgotten about Evan’s job at the pool. With Brian Braun.

“Well, there’s a good thing and a bad thing. Which one do you want to hear first?”

“The good thing,” I said, sitting down on the grass to listen to Evan’s news.

“I saved someone’s life!” she shouted.

“Get out of here.”

“Okay, to be honest, I can’t say for one hundred percent sure he would have died, but if I hadn’t seen the kid sinking and told the lifeguard, and if the lifeguard hadn’t jumped in the pool, that kid could have gone to the bottom.”

“With the fishes,” I said.

“With the fishes,” Evan replied.

“Did you get a medal or anything?”

“I’m not in it for the glory, Wyatt,” she said with a smile. “I was just doing my job. Aren’t you proud of me?”

I was proud of Evan. She was the coolest person I knew. “I’m bursting with pride,” I told her. “You’re an American hero.”

“Probably,” Evan said.

“So what’s the bad thing?”

Evan shook her head slowly. “I don’t want to say. It’s too sad.”

“Sadder than someone almost drowning?”

“Sadder than someone actually drowning.”

I looked at Evan. “What, does Brian Braun have a girlfriend or something?”

Her eyes seemed to pop out of her head. “Who told you that?”

“Who told me what?”

“That Brian has a girlfriend!”

“Wait, I was right? I was just kidding.”

Evan toppled to the ground and lay flat on her back. “Well, it’s not funny. I’m totally wrecked. You should have seen them sharing a milk shake at the snack stand. He didn’t even pay for it.”

Man, did that guy pay for anything? I couldn’t decide if Brian Braun was my rival or my hero.

“Why are you smiling?” Evan asked me.

“I’m not smiling.”

“Yes you are. I can see your teeth. What’s up? I’m dying of a broken heart here and you’re enjoying it. I thought you were my friend.”

“Maybe I think the good thing is more good than the bad thing is bad.”

Evan propped herself up on her elbows. “You might be right. I saved someone’s life. That’s a way bigger deal. Starting tomorrow, I’m over Brian.”

I liked the sound of that.

Neither of us said anything for a while. Eventually, Evan sighed, rising to her feet, and said good night. I stood up too, feeling the aches in my side and legs. Looking at my body more closely, I saw a bruise on my calf and a few small cuts on my knees. It all came with a little bit of pain, but it was definitely worth it.

Mom was looking for me when I came into the kitchen, blinking from the bright light. “Phone for you, Wyatt,” she said. “It’s Francis.”

I wished I could tell Mom to take a message, but that would raise too many questions. I knew I had to take the call, even though I didn’t really have anything to say. Francis thought I was lying low this summer, so I couldn’t tell him about football. He’d never get it.

“Okay,” I said, taking the phone from her. “Francis, what’s up?”

“Five words,” said Francis.
“I. E. Two. Three. D.”

“You what too?”

“No,” Francis corrected me before repeating himself, more slowly this time. “
I … E … Two … Three … D. Invasion Earth Two
in three-D!”

“Oh yeah. I know. It’s out now. What about it?”

“We’re going tomorrow.”

“Who is?”

“Us. Me and you. After golf.”

Francis did a lot of things that bugged me. Telling me that I was going to do something with him instead of asking me might have been at the top of the list. It wasn’t cool when my parents did it and it definitely wasn’t cool when he did it. Still, I knew I had to keep him happy since he was keeping a big secret for me.

“Sure,” I told him. “I’m in.”

“Sweet,” Francis said. “Golf and a movie. Could be the perfect day.”

Gripping a golf club with sweaty hands was not easy, but I couldn’t calm my nerves. Not while Francis was standing five feet away chatting with my dad. One wrong word from him and my life as I knew it would be finished. I tried to focus on the ball at my feet, but I couldn’t help listening.

“So, Alan,” I heard Francis ask Dad. “How’s your portfolio looking?”

Jim was off in the woods, looking for a ball he’d shanked off the tee.

“Not bad, Francis,” said Dad, like it was totally normal for one of my friends to ask him about his portfolio. “Market’s been up, so that’s good for everyone. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason,” said Francis, leaning on his club. “I was just thinking if you needed any ideas I’d tell you about this new company that’s about to go public. Normally, I wouldn’t advise taking a big position on one stock, but it might be the perfect move. In your case, I mean.”

The club almost slipped out of my hand. What was Francis doing? Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut like he promised? And how had I ended up being friends with the only fourteen-year-old on the planet who paid attention to the stock market?

“In my case?” Dad asked. “What do you mean?”

Francis seemed to realize his mistake and started backpedaling. “Oh, I mean, just because you’re kind of a gambler.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Dad, losing interest in the conversation. “Hey, Wyatt,” he called. “Let ’er rip. There’s a group behind us.”

Doing my best to swing without letting the club fly out of my hands, I hacked at the ball, knocking it a hundred yards straight as an arrow.

“Good enough,” said Dad.

We shouldered our bags and started hiking up the fairway. Dad veered toward me. “Everything okay?” he asked. “You seem a little distracted.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I said. “Just thirsty.”

“Well, it’s great being out here with you,” he said,
putting his arm around me. “You’re turning into a real golfer.”

“I am?”

Dad laughed. “Yeah, you’re on the second hole and you’re already thinking about the clubhouse.”