Chapter 9

My stomach finally pushed me to get off the bench and head inside. I was still struggling with the idea that I needed to become friends with the guy who would maybe, if my dream was right, kill my father in a year and a half. It was the right call, really the only call, considering there was no way I could explain my reasoning. At least not without getting locked up.

I tried to put it in the back of my mind for now, until I figured out how to go about being friends with some random kid I’d never met before today. I’d done him a favor, getting Elijah off him, so maybe he’d be receptive to something more.

I was feeling kind of hollow as I got in line and got my food, keeping my head down and trying to process it all. I finally looked up to avoid two guys talking in the aisle way between the tables and caught sight of the girl I’d seen the other day, sitting outside the school. The Chinese girl whose name I still didn’t remember.

She was sitting by herself again, just like she had the other day. I started to walk past her and had a thought. IF I was going to befriend Eduardo and fix the things that happened in my dream, then I shouldn’t stop there. I had to try and fix all of it. All the shit I was going to do in the dream, during those two years of high school before it all fell apart. When I thought I was God’s gift to the world. When I was as big of an asshole as Elijah.

I looked past her to where my friends were sitting. Connor and Miguel were looking my way, confused. They were probably wondering why I was so late to lunch and then just stopped in the middle of the cafeteria. I shook my head and waved them off before turning back to her table, putting my tray on the table in front of her and sitting on the hard, attached plastic seat.

She froze mid-bite, her sandwich hovering inches from her mouth.

“What are you doing?” she asked, somewhere between angry and annoyed.

“I saw you the other day, sitting in front of the school by yourself. And then I saw you here, by yourself again, eating your lunch, so I figured I’d join you.”

“Why?”

“Because no one should have to be by themselves all the time.”

She set down her sandwich and crossed her arms.

“I’m fine by myself. Why aren’t you sitting with your football friends?”

“Maybe I don’t want to sit with them right now. I’d rather be here.”

Her chair scraped against the floor as she stood up abruptly, her hands flat on the table. “I don’t know what your plan is, but I’m not going to sit here and let you and your friends play any more jokes on me.”

“What?” I looked up at her, genuinely confused. “What jokes? What are you talking about?”

“Those guys over there,” she said, pointing towards Elijah’s table. “They took my physics textbook last week. Then yesterday, someone put an unpeeled banana in my backpack and then smashed it, getting it all over my work.

And now they’ve started calling me...” She stopped, her face flushing. “Never mind. I’ve had enough.”

“Wait, who did what?” I turned to look where she was pointing. Elijah and his crew were huddled together, laughing about something.

“Them. Your friends,” she practically spat the word.

I couldn’t help but notice Brandy was sitting with them, Mason’s arm around her. Not the point at that moment, but it irked me a little every time I saw them. There was a point, pre-dream, where I thought she really liked me.

“Those guys aren’t my friends.” I shook my head. “They actually hate my guts right now because I won’t play along with their BS anymore.”

“You’re all on the team together.”

“So what? Just because we’re on the same team doesn’t mean I’m friends with them. People can be part of something and still not agree with each other. I had no idea that they’ve been messing with you, and I definitely don’t condone it.”

She lowered herself back into her seat but kept her arms crossed. “Right. Sure. That’s exactly what someone like you would want me to believe.”

“Someone like me?”

“Popular kids. One of them.” She gestured vaguely toward Elijah’s table again. “You know what, this is my table and I don’t want you sitting here.”

“I’m not...” I started to protest but stopped myself.

She was pissed and not going to listen to me. Just pressing her wasn’t going to change her mind.

“Fine. If you really want me to leave you alone, I will,” I said, picking up my tray and stepping away from the table. A step away, I stopped and looked back at her and said, “For what it’s worth, I wasn’t trying to trick you. I just noticed that you sit by yourself a lot. Thought maybe you could use a friend.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned and headed for the table with Miguel, Connor, and the others. I could feel her eyes on my back as I walked away, but I didn’t look back. Some things couldn’t be fixed in one conversation. Sometimes, you had to give people space to figure things out for themselves.

She’d at least looked up to talk to me this time. That was progress, right?

I decided not to go to the JV game on Saturday because I wanted to get a head start on the extra assignments I’d been given for the following week, but I did manage to talk my dad into going to see the first varsity game of the season on Friday.

Kenneth Ward was as good as advertised, with a hell of an arm on him. He threw some pretty serious passes and really seemed to be able to read the defense. I could see a lot of what Coach Heidemann had been talking about in practice as Kenneth adjusted the plays based on the pressure they were getting from the other team.

The only thing that I thought was a problem was how much they ran, given how well he threw the ball. Coach Holloway seemed to really like just trying to punch the ball through with sheer brute strength. When they did let him pass, it was short dinky things designed to pick up a few safe yards. They moved the ball steadily, to be sure, but it took all of the excitement out of the game and kept the score low.

They still managed to bring in the victory with a 14 to 7 score. I was sure they were going to win some games that way, but I wasn’t sure that kind of play calling was going to get them to state.

Which was a waste, considering how good Kenneth was.

That was still on my mind when I got to practice Monday afternoon. Looking through the playbook Coach Heidemann had given me, it was clear that was the kind of play style the entire school was running. There was good reason for it, I was sure. It would be easier to learn and a safer play style, but I wanted to get us to state by the time I was a senior. A gutsy thing to think, I knew, but ever since the dream, I wasn’t just going through life just hoping for the best.

I wanted to get into a good D1 school, and from there to the NFL, and I wasn’t going to do that just making short dinky passes and running the ball.

How I was going to get the coaches to do something a little more exciting, though, was beyond me.

I wasn’t the only one with something on my mind. I showed up at the practice field a little early, since I wasn’t screwing around as much as Elijah or a bunch of the other guys were before they got suited up for practice. I was surprised to see Miguel, Connor, and the rest of my new friends already out there. I would have been happy to see they’d stepped up their work ethic, too, except they looked worried about something, and had clearly been talking about it.

“Hey,” I said, joining their circle. “What’s up?”

“We’re going to have another shit week,” Miguel said. “Connor overheard them at lunch when he walked by their table.”

“Yeah?” I said, looking at Connor.

“Not a lot, but enough that it was clear they aren’t going to give up on it.”

“They also couldn’t stop trying to burn holes through you with how they were looking at you either,” Jamal said.

“They’re jerks. We can’t let them get in our heads.”

“It’s more than that. They’re gonna try something again during the game,” Tyrell said. “Mark my words.”

Miguel nodded. “They’d rather see us lose than let you succeed.”

“That’s what I don’t get,” Connor said. “Why trash our whole season just to get back at Blake?”

“Because they’re idiots,” Jamal replied.

“You need to do something,” Connor insisted, turning to me.

“Like what?”

“Coach Heidemann’s always pulling you aside to talk. He listens to you.”

“I already tried that after the game,” I said. “He didn’t believe they were throwing plays on purpose.”

“We still have to do something,” Miguel said. “If Coach won’t believe they’re doing it on purpose, maybe you’re going to have to talk to him about changing plays when things start looking sketchy. Like, in a way that isn’t accusing them of something.”

“You want me to ask for permission to call plays?”

“Audibles, at least. Coach is always saying you’re supposed to be our leader, so that wouldn’t come off as you just showboating or anything. You’d be doing your job as our captain.”

“Besides,” Tyrell added, “hate to say it, but they’re kind of your responsibility.”

“How do you figure that?”

“They were your friends. I’m not saying you’re like them. We all know you’re different from them, but...”

“But they’re still my problem,” I finished.

I’m not sure I loved the idea, or that it was fair, but I’d talked the guys into sitting separate from them, and more or less position ourselves against them. I’d made them my responsibility, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that they’d expect me to deal with it.