Junior Year Box Set

“No! I’ll be good,” I pleaded.

Shiggy had taught us more pressure points. I learned that if you stuck your finger into someone’s ear, it hurts. I’m talking a lot! I think Cassidy thought she might see if my head really was empty.

“Wuss,” she mumbled.

“Bitch.”

“What did you say?”

“That I love you.”

I figured it worked with my mom. Cassidy bent down and kissed me.

“Come on, before you get any more of your silly ideas.”

I dutifully followed her to Coach Hope’s office. I wasn’t surprised when the whole coaching staff was there waiting for me. Coach Hope pointed at the empty chair in front of his desk as the rest of the coaches stared at me.

“I see you didn’t skip out and get drunk,” Coach Hope said.

“I think my mom scares me more than you do.”

“Good point,” he said, and then gathered himself. “First of all, you’re not quitting the team. If you try, I’ll tell Cassidy she can hurt you. I thought about what you said about the rule of no practice, no play. While in most cases I would stick with my ruling, I’ve talked it over with the staff, and they agree that that would be punishing you for something you had no control over. But you have to agree that your teammates stepped up and deserve to be rewarded for their hard work this week.”

“Let me play defense. Put me in at free safety. I just want to contribute and hit some people,” I pleaded.

“What do you think? Should we let him play defense?”

There was a chorus of “no,” and then laughter when the coaches saw my dejected look. Luckily for them, none of them turned to stone. I wasn’t told what I would get to play, but at least I would be able to suit up.

◊◊◊

Frank called me and, we talked about the incident with Rachel yesterday.

“I talked to the executive producer of Hollywood Central. I was able to get the full video from a couple of the news stations who were there. They plan to run their stories tonight, about how people with agendas distort the news. Hollywood Central will run a piece showing what really happened,” he said to my relief.

“What a mess. I should have told you right away. I’m sorry,” I said.

“Hollywood Central had a similar incident not too long ago. An NFL quarterback named Brock Osweiler and his wife came out of a restaurant. A woman got into a verbal altercation with his wife. He used his arm to move the woman out of the way so that they could get to their car and leave. Of course, the only portion of the video that was initially shown was of him moving the woman.

“David, you have to be careful, because you’re now in the public eye. You’ll be the target of people like the woman from yesterday who have an agenda to push. She intended for you to do something stupid so she could use it to highlight her cause. Unfortunately, this kind of stuff will just get worse the more you become known. Hollywood Central

will walk back the story, but it will be nowhere as big an item as when they thought you attacked her,” Frank said.

◊◊◊

Tonight’s game was against St. Joe. Last year they had been reclassified from 6A to 5A, our school’s class, and joined our conference. St. Joe had a tradition as a football powerhouse, but they didn’t have it this year. I looked at this game as a tune-up for when we played in the one ESPN had arranged with King High School. I still didn’t understand why we had agreed to play King.

I drove home before the game to get my Halloween costume for the dance and to spend some quality time with my boy. He couldn’t find his favorite tennis ball, so we had to settle for chasing each other in the back yard. I would have to get Yuri to come over and work on his tackling because Duke had some moves when he was wound up.

As I drove the Jeep to school, I wondered what the cheerleaders would wear tonight. Two years ago they’d each dressed up as Catwoman, and last year it was naughty nurses. Brook and I had ordered leathers when we did the motocross course, and we’d been told to wear those. Halle had said that she and Stacy Clute would do our makeup. Stacy and Halle were two of the best artists at Lincoln High. I looked forward to seeing what they would create.

When I arrived at school, I went to the field house locker room and stowed my gear. A couple of the younger guys were there hanging out, so I invited them to come with me to the booster tent. Tonight was Senior Night. It was the last game that Jim would play at home unless we hosted a game here for the state playoffs. When we walked into the tent, we saw the boosters had put up posters of the seniors. They also had put together a very cool display frame. I looked at Jim’s, thinking it would hang on the wall in his man-cave someday. It had his jersey, his football picture, and places for his letter and his medal for when we’d won State. There was room for another medal if we won again.

“What d’ya think?” Mr. Sullivan asked.

“This is great. The seniors will go nuts when they see this. Where’d you get the idea?” I asked.