Chapter 25: Thursday, Sept. 6

I was looking forward to a relatively easy day for once. No tests except for the one on the game plan in athletics and a walkthrough practice. With luck, I could dodge whatever the rumor mill had left over from yesterday.

One advantage I had was a more relaxed attitude Kacie had toward granting me bathroom access in the mornings. I could at least get in long enough to take a leak and brush my teeth as long as I didn’t interfere with her routine.

After taking care of business and getting a quick smooch from my sister, I dressed and went to fix something for breakfast. Mom and Dad were already getting their day started.

“What do you have planned for today?” Mom asked when I joined them at the table.

“As little as possible,” I said. “I’m planning on coming straight home after practice. With luck, I won’t have too much homework. No tests have been scheduled for tomorrow. I’d like to get to bed early. Friday’s going to be a long day.”

“What time is the team leaving,” Dad asked.

“Sometime around noon,” I said. “We’ve got the pep rally and team meal, then we’ll start loading up. What about y’all?”

“Probably about the same,” Dad said. “Certainly no later than 1 o’clock. Patty has to get your cousins out of school first, but I’d like to be able to get there early enough to eat something other than concession-stand food before kickoff.”

I was just putting my dishes in the washer when the doorbell rang.

“Who could that be?” Mom asked, rising to go answer the door.

She returned with Morgan in tow. The little elf looked a bit out of sorts. I remembered this was her week on the shelf before I opened my mouth.

“Hey there,” I said. “What are you up to?”

“I thought I’d ride to school with you,” Morgan responded. “Mom had to be somewhere early and Daddy’s already headed to his office.”

“Let me get my backpack and we can go,” I replied.

That plan got scuttled by my sister emerging from her room. The girls had to discuss anything and everything as I watched the clock move ever closer to 8 o’clock. Mom came to my rescue, sort of.

“You kids better get moving or you’ll be late for school,” Mom said.

“But I haven’t had breakfast yet,” Kacie whined.

“You could have eaten in the time you’ve been gabbing,” Mom said. “Gary’s been ready to go for 10 minutes.”

“Sorry, Gary,” Morgan blushed, taking my hand and heading for the back door. “See ya at school, Kace.”

We loaded up and got moving just as Mom reached the garage. She was nice enough to wait for me to clear the area before she backed out.

“So, tell me about your talk with Dr. Stirling yesterday,” Morgan said as we reached the street.

“Not much to tell,” I said. “He thanked me for inviting his family to the club Saturday and for the way I handled things with Elise.”

“That’s it?” she asked. “The grapevine had you begging for your life before he let you go.”

Looks like the superintendent hadn’t had much success with the rumor mill.

“Just how did you ‘handle things’ with Elise?” she asked as we made our way to school.

“Didn’t, really,” I said. “She decided I was too much of a distraction and it was negatively affecting her play. She said she wants to focus on school and sports, in that order.”

“Did you do anything with her?”

“Just drove along the north shore, stopped for a drink at Sonic and took her home,” I said. “I actually got a bigger kiss from Kinsey at the party.”

“I heard about that,” Morgan chuckled. “Kacie said Kirsten threw a fit.”

“Yeah, now I have to be on the lookout for Kirsten to try something to top Kinsey,” I sighed. “I don’t know why girls have to be so competitive about this stuff.”

“Because we all know what a catch you are,” Morgan grinned. “Do you think you’ll go out with Elise again?”

“I don’t expect to,” I said. “At least not any time soon. She’ll go straight into basketball as soon as volleyball finishes. If I run track, it’ll be the middle of April before we’re both free at the same time.”

“How serious are you about running track?”

“We’ll just have to see,” I said. “Coach Wilson thinks I can fill a spot in the distance races. He said I should have been running cross country.”

We pulled into the senior lot with just enough time to hit our lockers before first period. I wondered if Kacie was going to be on time.

I parked in my assigned spot, helped Morgan out and grabbed my backpack. She took my hand as we headed for the main building.

“See ya fourth period,” Morgan said, giving me a little smooch when I dropped her off at her locker in the East Wing.

I swung by my locker to lessen the load in my backpack and made it to Economics before the bell rang.

After going over our homework, Mr. Cochran hit us with a pop quiz that was basically more of the same problems with different numbers. He also announced we’d have a test Monday. Friday’s class would be spent reviewing the material. It was up to us to not forget everything over the weekend.

Tests were also announced for next week in Wester Civ and English IV based on our recent reading assignments and lectures. Looks like I’d spend a good chunk of my weekend studying. At least I could go over everything during tomorrow’s busride.

The test in athletics was easy enough, basically making sure we knew the correct reads, could recognize blitzes and knew what the hot route was for different scenarios. For no more playing time than I was expecting to see, it was more about knowing what to look for from the sidelines.

Following the test, Coach Tucker went over our script for the walkthrough and the itinerary for Friday. We’d load our gear and have the team meal before the pep rally and go straight from the gym to the buses. We would be pulling out at 12:15 p.m. A 15-minute stop to walk around and stretch was planned for somewhere around the halfway point and we were supposed to arrive at the stadium no later than 5:30.

I hadn’t mapped it out precisely, but my rough figuring indicated that we’d have to average right at 75 mph the whole way to make it on time. And it’d take about half an hour before we left the metro area and could go that fast. I hope my favorite state trooper wasn’t patrolling the edge of town around midday tomorrow.

Depending on how long the game took, we could expect to return to the fieldhouse about 4 a.m. Saturday. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to drive myself home or to Arlene’s at such an hour. Maybe Coach would let me get a nap in the fieldhouse before I attempted to operate a motor vehicle.

When the bell rang for lunch, I exited the locker room to be greeted by an angry sky and a grumpy girlfriend. A tropical storm had made landfall and was stirring things up. Morgan looked in need of a footrub.

“Hurry before it starts raining,” she ordered as a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky.

I didn’t argue, grabbing her hand and hightailing it for the cafeteria. We were under cover before more than a few scattered raindrops fell.

“How are you feeling,” I asked as we got in line.

“I’m functional,” she said sourly, “but I’ve had better days. I may need your services this evening.”

“Just make it before 10 o’clock,” I said. “I expect to be a lucky contestant again after what happened Monday.”

“I still don’t get why the coaches are being such hardasses about this,” Morgan said.

“Because I was with Marie,” I said quietly, trying to make sure no one overheard me. “Coach Tucker visited Arlene’s last night to check out the apartment — she and Jan were getting ready for their trip — and he asked me how many of the women there was I sleeping with. Then he told me to never let his daughter learn about it.”

“Never let me learn about what?” Stephanie Tucker asked from behind me, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin and setting off a giggling fit among all the girl student trainers with her.

“You’ll have to ask your dad,” I said once I collected my wits. “He doesn’t approve of me where you’re concerned.”

“Why not?” the freshman asked.

“You’ll have to ask your dad,” I repeated, afraid of just how much she may have heard.

“He still treats me like a little girl,” Stephanie pouted, acting exactly like a little girl.

“So does my dad,” Morgan chimed in. “I suspect it’s a lifelong condition.”

“He wouldn’t even let me get a poster for you to sign on media day,” Stephanie whined, perpetuating the little girl act.

“Look,” I said, wondering why I was still having this conversation, “your dad gave me an explicit order. It’s difficult enough trying to do what he wants on the field. I’m not looking to do something that would get me in trouble off it.”

The little freshman was obviously not satisfied. I just hoped I could get to her father before she did this afternoon.

Morgan and I made our way through the line and out to our regular table, which was almost filled with players and a few cheerleaders. I felt blessed that Kelli Thornton wasn’t among them at the moment.

Talk was about the weather, strangely enough. Thunderstorms were forecast throughout the afternoon. It seemed we may do our walkthrough in the gym if there was any lightning in the area.

“I wish we had an indoor facility like some schools,” Jed said. “The problem is, about the only place to put it would be the senior lot unless they built one by the stadium.”

“Where would they put it there?” one of the guys asked. “That area’s built up more than the high school campus.”

“The visitors parking lot,” Chuck said. “Make it that much more of a hassle for their fans.”

I hurried up and finished my meal before any of the O-line got ideas about protecting it from the defense. I was just glad none of them thought to ask me about my visit yesterday with Dr. Stirling.

I gave Morgan a hug, grabbed my backpack and disposed of my tray before going to my locker to get what I’d need for the afternoon classes. It may have just been my imagination, but it looked like all the guys were gathered around the little elf getting caught up on the latest gossip as I exited the cafeteria.

Algebra II had a pop quiz, which Mr. Henderson said was because so many of us would miss class tomorrow. It was just 10 questions, 11 if you counted the bonus question at the end. I picked us to win 38-21, which was part of the equation in the final problem.

In Chemistry, it was my turn to ask Elise to keep good notes while I was gone. I don’t think I did anything untoward. I didn’t even beg “pretty please,” but I did try to be polite.

Creative Writing would have an assignment due Monday, further cutting into my weekend. It was almost like Mrs. Cohen didn’t care that I would be out of town for roughly 16 hours. Of course, I doubted I would spend any time on it Friday before a game, home or away.

While there was nothing for tomorrow, I still took the textbooks from my morning classes so I could get started reviewing for the upcoming tests. That made for a rather heavy load on my trip to the fieldhouse.

As I suspected, the walkthrough had been moved to the gym. Coaches were hollering to hurry up before I even reached my locker. We’d have to take time to get shoes from the basketball program to be allowed on the floor, which I thought was a bit odd in light of the fact that we wore street shoes for pep rallies held in the same place. But what was really funny was they had enough for 86 players. The entire basketball program, freshmen through varsity, had maybe half as many.

I dressed out, putting the shoes I’d worn for class back on, grabbed my helmet and followed the same path I would for tomorrow’s pep rally. We were ordered to sit in the courtside bleachers as coaches and managers began wheeling shopping carts full of sneakers out of the back. Apparently, each cart held a specific size.

As it turned out, I think I would have been better off in my flip-flops. The starters got the good stuff, Air Jordans that were no more than a few years old. Guys like me got a pair of old Chuck Taylors like my grandfather would have worn. And based on the way my pair looked, they were probably old enough he could have. At least they fit.

The whole process put us a good half hour behind schedule. Coach Tucker was not in a good mood when he had us line up across the court for calisthenics. We almost filled the floor from one baseline to the other.

After going through a few drills — I was not thrilled with the one that had us running out routes at the bleachers; more than one guy missed catching balls as they tried to not kill themselves on the front row — we started running through the scripted plays. The confines of the court made it difficult for the receivers to split out wide enough. Even when the coaches pushed the bleachers into storage mode, it was still pretty cramped.

They eventually had us run plays across court, which forced the defense to line up practically on top of the offense. Deep passes, which were supposed to be a big chunk of our scripted plays, were impossible to execute.

I got a surprise when Coach Wilson ordered me to work at both slot positions in the short-yardage package. At least I knew my assignments, though it was difficult to carry them out. I thought we’d be better off picking up the needed yardage on first or second down all the time.

Because we were indoors, special teams work was cut way back, though Jeremy and Fabrice amused themselves by trying to punt baskets from the opposite end. They came extremely close, drawing iron on several occasions. A few might have bounced in if the balls had been round instead of oblong.

We did work on the PAT/FG fakes. If the Panthers covered the middle to prevent me from keeping it like I had against the Bearcats, that play should work. All that was needed was for the end and wing on the side we were going to get that corner sealed.

At the end, we ran gassers to the free throw line, midcourt, opposite free throw line and baseline. It just felt wrong after so many months of going 10, 20 and 40 yards. I almost forgot to stop and turn around on the first one, earning a “Hand to the ground, Robinson!” from one of the coaches.

We finished up, got a less than glowing review from Coach Tucker, who at least acknowledged the space restrictions, and shouted “TEAM!” on three. Then we spent a few minutes changing shoes again with the head basketball coach reminding us in a less-than-cheerful tone to make sure we got the sneakers back in the correct shopping cart. At least he’d had the foresight to put little signs on each one indicating what size went where.

I rinsed off in the shower and was getting dressed when Coach Tucker requested my presence in his office. He still sounded less than happy, which I chalked up to being forced to conduct football practice in the gym.

I put my shoes on, grabbed my overstuffed backpack and headed off to find out what he wanted. It turned out the weather wasn’t the only reason for his mood.

I’d barely gotten the door closed when Coach Tucker started in.

“What did you say to my daughter?” he demanded without even offering me a seat.

“As little as possible,” I said. “I didn’t realize she was behind me when I told Morgan about your visit last night. When Stephanie asked me what she wasn’t supposed to learn about, I told her to ask you.”

“And she did,” he stated. “I don’t need to be dealing with this kind of crap during the season. It’s bad enough she wants the freedoms the older girls she hangs around with have, but she doesn’t have the maturity and experience necessary to handle that and I damn sure don’t want her getting that experience from one of my players.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “Believe me, I have no intention of that happening. If I wanted to fool around with freshmen, I would have signed up for that Home Ec class instead of Creative Writing.”