Wishful Thinking (4 page)

Coach blew his whistle again and I looked over. Nate, Tyler, Caleb, Darius and Brian had shown up. They were all heading to the track to start running, everyone except Tyler. Tyler was over with Coach and Dean, laughing and patting Dean on the shoulder.
 
He was ingratiating himself with everyone today except me, and for some reason it pissed me off. I was so focused on Tyler and being angry at him I didn’t notice the gap between me and O’Rourke grow.

By the time I did, even sprinting couldn’t save me. O’Rourke was hunched over at the finish line catching his breath I came up next to him, my legs repeating their screams from this morning while my lungs didn’t want to catch my breath, and both were letting me know I’d lost. It was just a warm-up run and I lost.
 

Was this becoming a theme in my life? Coming in second? Because I wasn’t down for it. After laps were finished Coach had us on the field doing drills. Thank goodness I need the numbing effects of drills. First we did our continuous attack/tackle drills. In the first hurdle you had to push a player out of the way and then tackle a second player. After your turn you took the place of the player in attack position and then moved to the tackle position then you did it all over again. As I said mind numbing.

I loved drills because my mind cleared everything except the task of pushing and tackling, passing and jumping, or running and grounding filled it. Next, we worked on our footwork and evasion techniques and finished with passing. Practice continued and the knot in my gut loosened. Everything would work out.

When drills were over Coach hustled us all to the halfway line. “Can anyone tell me why we lost last weeks game?” he asked.
 

“Does it even matter, Coach, since Saturday’s game is canceled?”

“There will be other games,” Coach replied.

“Because Middleton has ogres playing as their forwards,” Nate said. There were a few snickers. I agreed with Nate. I thought our team was big, almost everyone on it at least six feet tall with good poundage which varied but solid sizes, then I saw Middleton’s guys. Holy shit they were tanks. I bet half of them were shaving by the fifth grade, had to be roids. Have you ever been knocked to your ass by a tank? Believe me you feel it. Our entire game against Middleton I spent on my ass, or watching their locks sail overhead.
 

“What do they feed those Apes? Children?” Nate added. More snickers.
 

Coach lifted up his ball cap and adjusted it three times then swatted Nate’s head with it. “No! Our team is better than theirs, sure they may have size, but that’s it. There’s no brains to the way they play just brute force …” well my ass couldn’t tell the difference, “… No, our problem is this line right here,” Coach tapped the halfway line with his foot and then motioned down to the twenty meter line. He took a second to look at each one of us. When none of us appeared to understand his meaning he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
 

“This line makes you over confident. Each time we managed to gain another meter your arrogance showed––”

“I can’t help if I’m that good,” Nate said, “I’m sure I’ll find many who agree.”
 

“I’m sure we could find just as many who claimed they needed a good delousing after you too,” I said.
 

“That isn’t the point,” Dean chimed in, “you guys––”
 

Coach rested a hand on Dean’s shoulder silencing him. “This is a team, not your solo careers and last week all of you played as those you forgot that. If cogs don’t work together than machines can’t move, can’t win!” Coach brushed a hand over his five o’clock shadow, “The only one who played with any heart last week was Ian––”

“Yeah, but’s thats on account of his vagina, Coach.”

Everyone laughed, except Dean who looked even more frustrated than usual. Now was not the time to press Coach’s buttons if he were in a mood.
 

“That’s it Heathburn ten laps.”

“It was a joke.”

“Go!”

Yep, he was in a mood.

Nate huffed off to the track and Coach pointed at Tyler, “Make sure he does four.”
 

“Yes, sir.” Tyler hurried after Nate.
 

Suck up.
 

Coach turned back to us, “Anyone else have something smart to say?”

Shuffled feet, mumbles and downward eyes were our response to coach.
 

“Good, Dean explain.” Coach handed Dean his clipboard and turned around and headed over to the goal posts. That’s how he handled his nerves when we were getting on them, he walked away. Best way to handle spoiled brats. Say something wrong and it could mean your job. Just ask last years basketball coach.

“Last week everyone was doing one-ups out there, but nobody was actually better than anyone and you just ended up looking stupid and sad.”

“We didn’t have a chance against Middleton, their record is spotless,” Wade said.
 

“Their tough, look at that kid from Jefferson High who passed out on the field during their game against Middleton,” O’Rourke chimed in, “and after a dump tackle by Middleton’s center number thirteen no less.”

“They’re big, they’re mean and they play dirty. How many penalties do they receive each game? Five? Ten?” Jean-Luc added.
 

“What did you expect from charter school kids from Augusta?” Bryan said and waggled his brow.

“What the hell does that mean?” Caleb said his voice raising an octave. Caleb may have grown up surrounded by money, but his parents didn’t. It made his view on life vastly different from, say, kids like Bryan or Nate whose money went back generations. As for my opinion, shit is found everywhere, even in impeccable Armani suits. But, I always tried to stay out of things like this. My attention glanced over to the track. Nate finished his laps and was walking over with Tyler.
 

Tyler was motioning aggressively with his hands trying to tell Nate something important. Nate nodded his head and looked up catching my eye. His eyes went wide and then he shook his head and pushed Tyler. Call it paranoia but I was pretty certain Tyler was talking about me. My eye started to twitch and I rubbed it. I tried to focus back on the argument going on but I couldn’t stop wondering what Tyler had said and why did it bother me so much? Most days he was like a fly, mildly annoying but you swatted at him and he flew away, today though, all the swatting wasn’t working.

“They need scholarships, is what that means,” O’Rourke said.

“Oh, so because they’re not trust-fund babies they play dirty,” Kyle asked.

Bryan shrugged so did O’Rourke.
 

Caleb said, “Then please explain Beaverton to me?”

Beaverton was a school much like Crestview, and their team was almost as aggressive as Middleton’s, almost.

Dean stuck his fingers between his lips and whistled one of those loud, ear-piercing whistles that instantly silenced our arguing. “You guys suck! It doesn’t matter who the fuck we’re playing against is from, if you played like a team instead of a bunch of wannabes we’d look better out there than the bedraggled mess we do.”

“Excuse me there is nothing bedraggled about this,” O’Rourke said and motioned to himself and then gave his crouch a yank. My eye continued to twitch and I scratched my shoulders and stomach.
 

“Our tight five plays like a tight two and the backs, you guys seem like you’re playing for the other team,” Dean said tucking his clipboard beneath his armpit.
 

“Shit, is it just me or did nobody else notice the hotness of Middleton’s cheerleaders?” Wade said, “They were the reason for my poor performance.”

Dean started patting his side part. “Looking lousy is impressive? Since when?”
 

“Ha! So the rumors are true,” O’Rourke said and laughed.

This conversation was taking a turn I didn’t like and I could feel the knot in my stomach return.
 

“Settle this for us,” Bryan said looking straight at me. Did I miss part of the conversation?

“Huh,” was all I said. I scratched my neck and thigh and rubbed my eye.

“What are we talking about?” Nate asked standing next to me. He wiped the sweat from his face with his shirt.
 

“James, was about to tell us whether he gets distracted seeing Summer on the sidelines wearing short skirts,” Bryan said.
 

They were all looking at me now, watching. “Um––” I started.

“Unless she’s a butter face, wait no, even then she’s still a distraction, stupid. The real question is why aren’t our cheerleaders uniforms hotter?” Nate said and then nudged me in the ribs with his elbow. “It hardly seems fair.”

Tyler started, “Oh, there are certain cheerleaders who are quite hot, and very distracting just ask the bask––”
 

“Impossible!” Dean threw his clipboard onto the ground, “You guys are on your own,” and headed off the field back towards the locker room.

“What crawled up his ass and died?” Bryan said.
 

O’Rourke laughed.
 

I went and picked up the clipboard and looked through the pages. Without Dean there to explain his shorthand, it was nothing more than doodles to me. “Someone go get him, only he understands his gibberish.” I continued to flip through the pages. Practice had managed to double the knot in my gut and twist it.
 

I sped down Delmont Road in a hurry to get to Summer’s. I was angry. The drills and plays we ran at practice didn’t calm me, instead they made me angrier.
 

Honking behind me drew my attention to my rearview mirror. A large truck flashed his lights and slowed down. I shrugged it off and looked forward when I saw why he was honking. A truck ahead had its hazard lights on—and a man was crouched over his back tire half standing in the road.
 

Oh shit!
 

I slammed on my brakes and jerked the steering wheel hard to the left throwing me into oncoming traffic. I jumped the curb and drove up and over a mound of dirt and fishtailed back onto asphalt where I swerved across my side of the road and to a stop on a dirt service road right after the hairpin curve. With my car stalled on the side of the road out of traffic, my arms melted and I hunched over catching my breath. The truck behind me drove past, flipping me off as he did.

When the shaking in my hands lessened to a slight tremble, I restarted the car and waited until it was clear on both sides before pulling back onto the road. By the time I reached Summer’s house my composure returned along with my frustration. I readied myself to smile for the camera but remembered I had the clicker and used it instead.
 

I pulled around Summer’s U-shaped drive stopping near the front door where Summer stood leaning against the doorjamb, smiling, twirling her blond ponytail around her finger. She was wearing a tight fitting pink sweater with a plunging neckline and a short grey skirt.
 

Watching her walk down the stairs towards me, I forgot why I was mad. Especially, since the cold was affecting parts of her body in an arousing way.

We met at the bottom step. Before I could say a word, she jumped into my arms and kissed me.
 

“I was worried you didn’t get my message since you didn’t respond,” she said when her lips left mine.

“Um—” Oh yeah the text message I never read.

She yanked my hand, “Come on, everyone’s gone but they’ll be back in like two hours, so we don’t have much time.”

I followed behind, scolding myself for not checking her text. Before I even shut the door, she was on me again. She pulled off my shirt and tossed it on the floor next to us. She looked me over then gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. Didn’t take much guessing to figure out what was in that text. My heart started racing and I lost the ability to swallow as her hands came around to the front of my waist and unbuttoned my pants.

She kissed me again this time her kisses moved down my neck and across my chest, then down my stomach. My eyes closed as her lips reached the top of my boxers. Her hands slid between the elastic and me and … and I wanted to, but I couldn’t. My mind was to messed up to enjoy this moment. It was unfortunate, but she was about to bear the brunt of my bad mood.

I grabbed her hands, “Did Trevor take you home?” My voice was hoarse.
 

“What,” she said looking up at me from her kneeling position. Our hands were locked together on my hips and I could see straight down her shirt and those two perky … Shut-up and enjoy it dumbass.

“Never mind,” I said. I released her hands and pushed my hips forward reminding her what she was about to do. My eyes closed in anticipation. Nothing.
 

Shit. I felt her hands move from my waist. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why does my mouth always have to ruin things?

“No, repeat what you said.”

Her hands were on her hips now and she was frowning.
 

My anger returned, “Why did Trevor take you home?”

See, I left out a detail when the guys were hassling me about sex with Summer. No, we hadn’t had sex yet, but the reason wasn’t because of her, but because of me. It wasn’t because I was gay, I liked tits to much. And I wasn’t a virgin, I’d been with a couple of girls—okay two, three if you counted in-and-out once before ejaculating sex—so it wasn’t that.