Chapter 11: Enemy

I awoke Saturday morning, for some god-unknown reason, to water splashing on my face. I bolted upright in bed to find Lexi sitting at the foot of it, holding a spray bottle, with the business end pointed at me.

"What the fuck?" I said, groggily irritated.

"Its after noon. Get up", she replied, unaffected by my outburst.

I fell back onto the bed and used the sheet to wipe my face off. It was short lived as she squirted me again.

"What?!"

"I said ... getup."

"Ugh, fine, fine." I sat up in bed and again wiped my face. "Tell me again why you have a key to my house?"

"I do your laundry." Then she held up the water bottle. "And water your plants."

I dragged my ass out of bed and stumbled towards the closet. Lexi just sat there on the end of the bed as I did so. I looked at her as I walked past.

"Enjoying the view?" I wasn't wearing much.

"Maybe," she responded. "We girls do on occasion like to ogle a nice piece of meat."

"Wonderful," I said, as I flipped the light on in the walk-in closet. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. "What's it like outside?" I called out to her.

"Shitty. Damp, kind of cold," came her response.

I added my favorite zip up hoodie and exited the closet. Hitting the bathroom, I brushed and cleaned myself up, and we headed up stairs. Walking into the kitchen, I went into my routine, preparing my breakfast. Cereal, toast, milk, juice; I tend to eat a third of a box of cereal at a sitting. Grabbing a big bowl, I filled it with cereal and milk, and dug in. I was standing at the island, while Lexi was seated in one of the high chairs. There was silence for a few minutes, save for the sound of me crunching. Lexi finally spoke up.

"Do you want to talk about last night?" she asked, carefully.

"What's there to talk about?" I said in between bites.

"Are you blaming yourself for losing the game?" she asked.

I put the spoon down and sighed. "Honestly? Not really. I know how the game goes. What happened sucked, but it does happen. Could have been any of us."

"But... ?" she looked at me with a question.

"Well, without him, were not going to go very far. Brad is a decent receiver, but he's not in Anthony's class really, and with no one to take up that slack, I just can't see us being able to win down the stretch." I paused, refilling my now-empty bowl with cereal, and topping off the milk. "What good is being able to throw a football if there's no one to catch it?"

Just then the doorbell rang. I looked up at the sound. Now what?

"I'll get it. Just keep eating," Lexi slid off the seat and made for the front door. A moment later I heard her open the front door. "Hey, c'mon in," she said to the newcomer. "He's in a mood."

"I heard that!" I yelled towards the corridor.

She returned moments later, with Roxanne right behind her. "Hey, baby," Roxanne said, as she came up to me and kissed me on the cheek. I swallowed down a gulp of cereal, and responded. "Hi, Rox."

She took her coat off and hung it on the back of one of the chairs, then sat down, while Lexi sat back down in the other one.

"Have you talked to Brandon yet?" Roxanne asked.

Before I could respond Lexi cut in. "He just got out of bed."

"Oh," Rox replied, "Well, Brandon wants you to call him. He said it was important."

"Do you know what it's about?" I asked.

"No idea. He came home last night, knocked on my door, and just told me to tell you that."

"OK. Well that's cryptic," I said, finishing off my first bowl and pouring another. "Guess I'll have to call him."

Lexi left shortly thereafter, and Roxanne and I headed out. I wanted to go see Anthony and see how he was doing. We pulled into Anthony's subdivision about fifteen minutes later. Anthony lived in a two story brownstone in the downtown area of Washington. It was a newer development, but the houses were designed to look like classic buildings. I bounded up the driveway, Roxanne in tow, and rang the doorbell. A moment later, it swung open.

"Nick, hey man, what brings you out?" said Anthony. He was wearing baggy sweats, and I could see the right leg was bulging out around the air cast on his foot.

"Just coming to see how my number one is feeling," I said. I nodded to Roxanne behind me. "You know Brandon's sister, Roxanne?"

"Sure do," he said with a smile, to me and to her. "Everybody knows Roxanne. She's a star of the Nick Capuzzo show. C'mon in."

"Thanks," I said as we entered the house, "Though personally, I think she's the star. I'm just along for the ride."

"Right, right," said Anthony, closing the door, then leading us into the living room. He was hobbling a little bit, keeping weight off the injured right foot, but it didn't seem to be slowing him down too much. We all took a seat.

"So, I started, what's the verdict on the foot?"

"Well, it's not the foot really, it's the ankle." Anthony pulled the leg of his sweats up to show us the cast. "Doc said it's a severe sprain. He said I was lucky I didn't tear any ligaments."

I sat up in my seat. "For real? No tears?"

"Nope."

"That's great!" I said. "What's the prognosis for healing?"

"I have to take it easy for a while, and keep this air cast thing on it," Anthony said, looking at the cast in disgust. "But he said I should be able to start practicing on it again in a few weeks."

"Wow," I said. Things were looking up.

"Yep." Anthony pulled the pant leg back down over the cast. Then he leaned forwards on his chair and gave me a hard look. "Look, Nick, if you can pull us into the playoffs, I'll be back and ready to go. And, I might add, well rested." Then he laughed. "I'll let you guys do all the heavy lifting."

"Well," I said, "We're gonna have to find someone to do that lifting. Brad can't pick up that much slack, and he's needed elsewhere anyways. Mark is just a lost cause."

"I don't know what his deal is, man. Dude was a shitty quarterback, everyone knew that. He that much of a legend in his own mind he can't see that?"

I just shrugged. "I don't know. I know he's no fan of mine, but he's dragging the entire team down with him."

"You guys need to find someone else to play wideout," Roxanne said, "Cut him out of the picture completely."

"Y'know," Anthony said, "there's a kid on the JV squad that might be able to come up and pickup some of the slack."

"What's his name?" I asked. I was completely unfamiliar with the junior varsity team.

"Mike Jacobs."

"Jacobs doesn't sound familiar. I'll talk to Coach Gaines about him."

We made small talk for a little bit, and then said out goodbyes. I felt much better leaving Anthony's house than I did driving to it. I called Brandon.

"Nick!" he yelled, causing me to pull the cel phone away from my ear because of the volume, "Are you with Roxy?"

"Yeah," I replied, "she told me you wanted me to call you."

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "We need to think about what to do about the team. I don't know about you, but I'm not ready to give up just yet."

"Me either," I responded. "We just left Anthony's house. He says he's gonna be back in time for the playoffs, if we make it, so we need to come up with a solution to get us there right quick."

"I got an idea about that I want to bounce off of you. Can we hook up today sometime?"

"I think I've got the whole day free," I said, looking over to Roxanne for confirmation. "When do you want to meet?"

"Now's a good time. We need to put some plans in motion, and we need all the time we can get."

"All right," I said, "Well be right over."

Entering the Marshall house, we headed for the basement. While not as finely furnished as mine was, the Marshalls basement was also made into a sort of rumpus room. There was some thin, commercial grade carpeting on the floor, and a drop ceiling. Some bean bag chairs were littered around a television in the corner, and there was a couch that had seen its better days come and go about a decade ago.

I plopped down into one of the large bean bags, and Roxanne sat right down on top of my lap. Brandon sat on the couch.

"Okay, so here's the deal," Brandon began. "After you split last night, I was hanging out at Pete's house. Now, as you know, Pete's a junior, but his bro is a soph, so there were a lot of JV guys there. Mark was there, and he was talking up a storm and telling anyone who would listen about how you were useless to the team now and that he'd be back in charge come Monday, and blah, blah, blah. Of course, since they didn't know any better, Mark had quite the following.'

Brandon paused and took a breath. "Now, between you and me, and probably seventy five percent of the rest of the team, we don't want to see that happen. So we have to come up with something quick. So I was thinking and then it hit me."

"What hit you?" I asked, hoping he'd at least begin to approach the point.

"You had a number one receiver before you even started on the team. You've been throwing to him for months now."

Just like that. The answer was that simple. It was right in front of my face the whole time, but I'd been too caught up in my own issues to see it.

"Brandon, you're a genius," I said.

"Probably the only time you'll ever be accused of that, huh, Brando?" This from a giggling Roxanne, who was very pleased with herself for that witty comment.

"Thanks sis," Brandon replied.

"Okay, I'll talk to Scott," I said. "What I need you to do is first of all, talk to your uncle about getting Scott on the team. We'll need to fast track this. Secondly, I want you to talk to him about a kid named Mike Jacobs, plays on the JV team. Anthony said that he thought this Jacobs kid would make a good replacement for him until he got back. We should still look into it."

"Sounds like a plan, my man," Brandon said, excited. "Call me later and we'll see where we're at."

I stopped back off at my house briefly before calling Scott. Roxanne had left her car at my place when we went to see Anthony, so she had to pick it up. Once she was on her way, I called up Scott, and told him to come over for a while. I was outside when he rolled up, throwing footballs through a tire swing. It was a practice drill I'd been doing for years. As he approached, I spun and tossed the ball at him, which he caught easily.

"What's up?" he asked, tossing it back.

I caught the ball and palmed it between my hands. "I've got a proposition for you."

"If this is some kind of alternate lifestyle proposal, I'll pass," he said, jokingly.

I laughed. "Funny, asshole. Yes, I'd hoped you be the bottom."

"Ick," was his only reply.

"Indeed," I continued. "I meant, as you may have noticed, there is a sudden and urgent opening for a number one receiver on the varsity team. Are you interested?"

He thought about it for a moment, as I tossed him another pass. "This just temporary?"

"Well, Anthony will be back, but not until we get to the playoffs, if we make it. But, all things considered, at worst, you'd go to being number two."

"What about the other guy?"

"Brad I'd prefer to be used more as a slot guy, with some time at tight end. That's where his strengths lie." Scott tossed me the ball back. "Brandon is talking with his uncle right now about another kid, from the JV. If you both come on, you'll be one, he'll be two, and Brad will be a situational receiver. When Anthony comes back, Mike, the kid, will drop down to a third option."