Chapter 17: Wednesday, Aug. 29

Even without setting my alarm, I was awake a little before 6 a.m. That was just enough time to hit the bathroom, wash my face and brush my teeth before Kacie got up and took over the space.

Since I was in no hurry, I took the time to grab a bowl of cereal and a couple of bananas for breakfast. I had everything packed and ready to go by the time Mom entered the kitchen dressed for another day of overseeing the country club.

“What time will you be home tonight?” she asked.

“Practice should be over before 6:30, so by 7,” I said. “I told Kacie I’d take her for ice cream after dinner. She said she’d handle Kinsey’s present for me after school today. I may have to ask to use the X5 if Morgan wants to go.”

“Life will be so much easier when your grandparents get the new vehicles,” Mom said. “Although parking will be a bit tight around here.”

“Already got it figured,” Dad said as he came in knotting his tie. “I’ll just leave the Buick at the office and commute in my BMW. Kacie can use my spot in the carport.”

I got the feeling Dad would be driving the Buick only rarely in that scenario. I guess he’d still use it to ferry clients to development sites, but not much else.

I bade my parents good-bye and headed off to complete my running. It was almost 7 when I pulled into my parking spot. My goal was to finish 30 gassers by 7:30, giving me ample time to shower and dress for school.

Darius and Jerome were already running when I got to the field. I was only mildly surprised to find Marshawn running with them. I guess hitting the guy in the red vest had its consequences.

We acknowledged each other as I stretched, but no one said anything. After jogging to the opposite end of the field and back, I commenced as the segment clock sounded on the freshman practice. I kept a good enough pace that I had my 30 before the practice ended.

I grabbed a quick shower and was dressing when the other guys came in and gave their totals to Coach Tucker. I gathered all three would be back again tomorrow unless they stayed after practice tonight.

As Jerome and Darius headed to the showers, Marshawn came over to my locker.

“Where’d you learn that song?” he asked without being too threatening.

“‘Son of a Preacher Man?’ That’s one of my grandmother’s favorites,” I said. “I’ve spent a lot of hours riding in her car with an oldies station playing on the radio. She really likes Motown. Lots of Supremes. I knew a lot of those songs before I was in junior high.”

The linebacker just nodded and went to take his shower. I noticed Coach Tucker watching us, but he didn’t say anything. Making sure I had everything I’d need, I headed for Mr. Cochran’s classroom and another exciting Economics lesson.

The morning classes contained nothing notable other than the announcement of tests on Thursday in Western Civ and English IV, but they should be easy enough for those who kept up with the reading. I may need to give Aunt Karen a call to gain some insights on interpreting Shakespeare.

Athletics consisted of a quick flexibility session and a review of the game plan. The Bearcats ran a 3-3 Stack, which was basically a perpetual nickel package with five defensive backs. One of the things Coach Wilson stressed to the slot receivers was their propensity to drop down a safety or two — they lined up with three — to act more as outside linebackers. We’d be using lots of trips sets to occupy those guys, theoretically opening things up in the run game.

The only reason I needed to know this stuff was because we’d be tested on it tomorrow. I’d already been told not to expect to play receiver after spending the week impersonating the Bearcats’ quarterback. It struck me that this might be the most difficult test of the three I’d have in consecutive periods.

Morgan caught up to me outside the fieldhouse at the end of the period, ready for lunch.

“I can go for ice cream, but I have to be home by 9,” she said, sneaking in a quick smooch. “So you won’t be able to stay after practice tonight.”

“I shouldn’t have to,” I said as we strolled along. “I finished my gassers this morning. My problem is three tests before lunch tomorrow. I ought to study a little bit. If I get anything in my afternoon classes, I may have to put it off until tomorrow night.”

We reached the cafeteria and got in line with the other players. I got in the burger line. So far, that seemed to be the safest choice on Wednesdays.

The table was populated by our regular contingent of football players plus a few new additions. There were two other cheerleaders with Kelli Thornton, who appeared to be cozying up to Chuck Edwards, while Vi Ochoa and Andrew Pearson joined us. It looked like they were almost an official couple. At least someone was getting some benefit out of being sent to detention.

Our lunchtable conversation started off with our preparations for the game but quickly veered off onto other topics. Marshawn picked back up with my musical repertoire.

“How many of those songs you know?” he asked.

“I never really thought about it,” I said. “I spent a lot of time riding around with my grandparents when I was little. Grandpa listens to the country music he grew up with. Grandma tends more toward Motown and British Invasion stuff that came out when she was in high school and college.”

“Like what?”

I thought for a second and came up with one I kind of liked.

“‘Photograph’ by Ringo Starr,” I said. “It was his first big hit as a solo artist after the Beatles broke up. He wrote it with George Harrison.”

“Never heard of it,” Marshawn said.

“Every time I see your face, I’m reminded of the places we used to go,” I recited. “But all I got is a photograph and I realize you’re not coming back anymore.”

“What Motown you know?” he asked.

“Mostly the girl groups — Supremes, Martha and the Vandellas,” I said. “That’s what Grandma listened to the most when I was around. But I’m familiar with some of the male acts — Marvin, Smokey, Temptations.”

“He’s also pretty good with Barry White,” Morgan chipped in with a waggle of her eyebrows.

“That’s mostly because you like that radio station,” I said. “He wasn’t Motown.”

A look at my phone showed it was almost time for the bell.

“Sorry to ditch, but I’d better get moving,” I said. “I need to swing by my locker before fifth period.”

I made it to my locker as the bell rang and was swapping books when Staci and Bethany came up.

“I hear you’re taking us for ice cream tonight,” Bethany chirped after sneaking a quick smooch.

“If we can sync our schedules,” I said. “Should I come get either of you?”

“I can drive Mom’s Escalade,” Bethany said.

“And I’ve got my truck,” Staci added. “We should meet at the Dairy Queen we told you about. Morgan and Kacie know where it is.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “Is 7:30 OK? I should be free by then.”

Both girls agreed, stole a quick kiss and sent me on my way to Algebra II. Mrs. Montero didn’t give me too much of an evil eye when I passed her, but I still checked to make sure my pants were zipped. No need to give her an excuse to bust me for exposing myself.

The afternoon classes were basically a repeat of the last two Wednesdays — read the rest of the chapter in Algebra II, do 10 more problems and prepare to review for a test on Friday; another experiment in Chemistry; more writing in Creative Writing. At least Elise Stirling was on her good behavior in sixth period, though she again made it an order rather than a request to keep notes the next two days.

Practice was interesting, to say the least. I don’t know how late the coaches had stayed at the fieldhouse last night, but they’d totally redone the defensive game plan. Instead of basing out of a 4-3, the defense was in an odd front that looked like some kind of hybrid between a 5-2 and a 3-4. Darius and Jerome lined up in a two-point stance outside the tight ends and a little way off the line, but not as deep as a true outside linebacker. Marshawn and Luke Riley were inside with Oscar Hurtado at nose guard and Willie Joseph and Kenny Oliphant lined up on the inside shoulders of the offensive tackles.

The changes made it tougher to identify who was taking the dive. Oscar would usually offset in the gap between guard and center, but there was no consistency in whether Marshawn or Luke would take the back with the other following me down the line. Darius and Jerome were still forcing the pitch, but I had to get past Willie or Kenny first. Both were getting enough penetration to disrupt plays. If Oscar took the dive, that freed the inside linebackers to flow outside to deal with the pitch man with support from the safeties and corners.

The new scheme was much more effective against the option and the defensive coaches were in a decidedly better mood as play after play got stuffed for minimal gains at best. Or worst, from the defense’s perspective.

The one vulnerability I could see was a pass over the middle when the inside linebackers vacated the area. The problem would be getting a receiver free of the tangle of bodies at the line. The tight ends and wingbacks had to get through a lot of traffic. It looked like Coach Fuller was daring the Bearcats to beat him with the worst part of their game. It’d be interesting to see how it worked out Friday night.

Coach Miller couldn’t contain himself, making a series of snide comments about showing the seventh-grader how it was done. He just kept getting snarkier with each stop. He should have been paying closer attention to what was going on.

The defensive coaches were grouped to the right side of the field a few yards beyond the line of scrimmage. Coach Miller, of course, was closer to the defensive backs.

We ran option right and actually got the edge that time as the tight end got out quickly enough to cut block Darius. I turned up and reached the area where the coaches were congregated as the defenders closed in. I pitched and a linebacker, safety and corner all converged on the ball, which hit Coach Miller squarely in the chest. The sound of the collision was sickening.

The secondary coach was buried under a good 500 pounds of football players and was clutching at his left knee, doing his best not to curse too loud. He wasn’t very successful.

Doc and Trapper raced in as everyone else backed off. Coach Fuller was giving me a look I couldn’t interpret.

“There is no way on earth you’re good enough to do that on purpose,” he muttered. “You weren’t even looking where you pitched.”

“I was told it’s the pitch man’s responsibility to be in position,” I said.

“He was,” the defensive coordinator snapped. “You missed.”

After the trainers scraped Coach Miller off the turf and carted him away, we wrapped up with special teams and gassers. Coach Tucker told us we looked much better than we had the day before, but we couldn’t afford to get anyone else hurt, player or support staff.

The best part of it as far as I was concerned was getting through the day without getting trucked. I guess none of the other defensive players wanted to run extra gassers before tomorrow’s walkthrough.

I showered and dressed, gathered my stuff and went to my car to find Morgan waiting.

“I’m eating at your house tonight,” she said. “That’ll give us a few extra minutes before we go out.”

“Good,” I said, putting my bags in the trunk. “I know just how we can use them. I’ve got some algebra problems to do.”

Morgan just rolled her eyes.

“One of these days, I’m just going to let you figure it out on your own,” she said.

“Classic management technique,” I shot back. “Surround yourself with experts and let them do the work. Besides, you aren’t the only person I ask for help. Aunt Karen has been of great assistance in English IV.”

“Just as long as she’s not getting the same benefits I am,” Morgan sniped.

“Not even close,” I said. Well, at least not from me. I couldn’t vouch for the other Mr. Robinson living in our house. “The most I’ve ever done is let her drive my car.”

“And when am I going to get to do that?” Morgan grinned.

“Not before the end of football season,” I said. “I’ll have to teach you how to drive a stick first. Maybe Grandpa will let us use one of his farm trucks.”

Morgan responded with a raspberry.

It wasn’t much longer before we reached the house. Kacie was grilling chicken breasts when we walked in and Morgan immediately fell in to help. I was ordered to set the table while Mom nuked some veggies in the microwave.

“Get your homework done before you go out,” Mom said.

“That’s why I brought Morgan with me,” I said, earning another raspberry.

Dad came in just as everything was being placed on the table. One of these days, I was going to ask him how he managed to do that.

“How’d practice go?” he asked.

“Better, according to Coach Tucker,” I said. “They totally redid the defense, spread things out a little more, changed a few responsibilities. It looks like they’re going to give up the pass against a team that doesn’t throw. I think we’ll be OK against the option.”

“Did you get hit?”

“No,” Morgan jumped in, “but he got Coach Miller run over. Looks like he shredded his knee.”

Dad had Morgan tell him the story. She only embellished it a little bit.

“Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving jerk,” she said.

“He made a few snarky comments when the defense started performing better,” I said. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You haven’t heard some of the things he’s said about you in the coaches’ office,” she said. “He doesn’t think you should have been allowed to come out. He says you’re not a real football player.”

“I’d be the first one to agree with him about that,” I said. “As for the rest, he can take it up with his boss.”

“He has,” Morgan said. “He tried to get you kicked off the team Monday night after you decked Edgar Gonzales.”

“I wouldn’t have disagreed with that, either,” I said. “I’ve been waiting for that to happen since practice started.”

“Yeah, but you showed them you’ll stand up for yourself,” Dad said. “Bill Richards thinks you earned more respect doing that than for surviving shotgun alley.”

“I just want to do what I can to help the team,” I said. “But I’m not willing to get crippled doing it.”

“Where are you kids going and who will you be with?” Mom asked, changing the subject.

“The old Dairy Queen north of downtown,” Kacie said. “Bethany Metzger and Staci Patterson will meet us there and that place is almost exactly halfway between their houses.”

We finished dinner quickly and I got Morgan to walk me through a couple of algebra problems. I worked the rest as she and Kacie disappeared into my sister’s room. I was putting things away when Mom hit me with one more thing.

“Arlene Jenson wants you to call her,” Mom said. “She should be done with supper at the club by now.”

I had no idea what the redhead would want to talk about, but she could have just called me if it had been very important.

“I’ll do that now,” I said, pulling out my phone. “And it looks like I’ll need to drive your car, if I may.”

“I’ll take your father’s if I have to go anywhere in the next couple of hours,” Mom said as she handed me her keys. “Now call Mrs. Jenson.”

I stepped out into the garage and hit Arlene’s number on my contact list. She answered on the second ring.

“Hey, beautiful,” I said. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, you can do a lot of things for me,” she purred, “or to me, but that’s not what I need to talk to you about. You need to have a word with Marie.”

“Why?” I asked. “What’s she done?”

“That’s the problem, she’s not doing anything,” Arlene said. “She’s kept herself cooped up in the apartment since Sunday, wearing nothing but one of your dress shirts. I want my housekeeper back.”

“Where are you now?” I asked.

“On my way home from the club,” she said. “I should be there in five minutes or so.”

“How’d you like to have some ice cream?” I asked. “My treat.”

“What do you have planned?” Arlene asked.

“Get Marie and meet us at the Dairy Queen north of downtown,” I told her. “You can help me kill two birds with one stone. Can you get there in, say, 20 minutes?”

“We’ll be there,” she said.

“Oh, and Arlene? Tell Marie I said she has to be fully dressed, including underwear,” I said. “If I have to come over there, I’ll tan her little ass so she can’t sit down for a week.”

Morgan and Kacie came out just as I disconnected the call. I held the door to the X5 for them as they climbed into the back seat, still chattering away about whichever topic they’d been discussing.

I got in the driver’s seat, made sure the mirrors were adjusted to suit me, hit the button to open the garage door and cranked the engine.

It was time to assert my Dominance over a certain little bitch.