Nash I was late, and I didn’t want to be here. Standing outside, staring at this place, all I felt was disappointment, pain, and loss. This was supposed to be my defining year. I had plans. I was a senior. I’d leave here and go become great. Football was my life. It was my future. It was all I’d cared about fighting for since I was old enough to walk around holding a ball in my hands and not falling down. And all those dreams were gone. Just like that. Over. I hadn’t wanted to come back. My dad was making me. Told me life threw shit at you, and how you handled it defined the man you would become. All I knew was my life was over. I didn’t want to fucking handle it. I wanted to stay away from here. From what was formerly my life. All my dreams were dead. The late bell sounded, and I still stood there looking. My friends had been supportive. But the pity in their eyes was almost too much. I hated seeing it there. When I began walking toward the entrance, the limp I’d now live with the rest of my life mocked me. Reminding me of what I’d lost. What could never be again. The darkness in my soul was taking over. Just two months ago I had been so excited about what would come next. My life was just like I had always planned it. Senior year was ahead and with it my chances at a scholarship at a division one school. Ryker and I had been going to go together. We were a team. We’d play on Saturdays for our family and friends to watch on television. College would be our
kingdom. Ryker would still have that, but my shot was done. I didn’t even know what the fuck to do with my life now. Why even go to school? I’d never wanted to do anything in life but play football. “You going in there, or you going to stand out here and glare at it?” I turned to see Coach D standing beside me. His hands in his pockets, staring at the school much the same way I had been. He was new. He’d been hired at the end of last year. I hardly knew him. All I knew about him was he was twenty-seven, had played football for Tennessee, and had a teaching degree. He was the defense coordinator on the team. “Not your business.” My tone was angrier than it needed to be. The man had done nothing to me. But he reminded me of all I didn’t have now. “Technically it is. I’m a teacher. One of yours to be exact. I get to correct students. Comes with the gig. Or so they tell me.” He was trying to lighten my mood. I got that a lot these days from people, and I hated it. I hated everything. “I’m already late.” He nodded. “Yeah, you are. So am I. Bad car battery this morning. But then I have a shit car.” We weren’t friends. We never even played a game together. By the time practice started up, my leg was already fucked. I didn’t want to be his friend, nor did I need someone to talk to. That was coming next. I could feel it in the air.
Thick and annoying. He’d offer to listen to me. Tell me he understood. All that bullshit. I didn’t say anything more to him. When he sighed, I felt my teeth grind in anticipation of the next words. His offer to listen. His small p ep talk that he could shove up his ass. “It’s my job, so I better go on in. You’ll have to give the place death stares on your own. Good luck with that.” That was all he said. Then he walked on. Toward the entrance. Past me. No words of encouragement. Nothing. “That’s it?” I asked before I could stop myself. He paused and glanced back at me. “What?” He looked confused. I waved my hand in the direction of the school in frustration I didn’t expect to feel. “You’re a fucking teacher. I’m out here, and that’s all you’re gonna say?” He shrugged. “Sure. You want to stay out here in your own little hell, then do it. Nothing I can say to give you back your old life, Nash. Why waste my breath?” When he walked off this time, I just stood there watching him. Some would think he was a dick. But for the first time since I... I hadn’t been talked to like an invalid who needed special care. Once he was inside, I followed him. No point in protesting. My dad would be up here ready to kick my ass if they called and said I wasn’t here. He was as broken up about this as I was. He had dreams. We shared them. But he wasn’t gonna let me miss school. The door was heavier than I remembered. But then all the times I had walked through it before I’d been happy about
things. I had liked it here. Now it was taunting me. The Lions crest on the wall with the championship banner from last year flashed like a neon sign. I’d played on that team. Been a part of that victory. My chest felt like it was being clawed at by sharp talons. The lion mocking me as it loomed ahead. Once I had gotten excited about that crest. I had been a lion. “You’ve missed the late bell, Nash,” Mrs. Murphy, one of the school secretaries said from the office. The door was always propped open with a large box fan blowing. I turned to look at her. Did she honestly think I didn’t know I was late? I’d ruined my damn leg, not my head. It worked just fine. “Here,” she said, walking out of the office and toward me. The sad look in her eyes was something I was familiar with now. She knew, and with her knowledge was the pity. “Take this with you and go on to class.” The piece of paper in her hands was an excuse. I took it. “Thanks,” I said, simply because she was old. She’d had white hair back when my parents were in school. I was an asshole these days, but I did draw the line at being mean to the elderly. She patted my arm. “We all love you here.” That was where I nodded and walked off. I couldn’t take the “we love you, we support you, we’re rooting for you” speech. Not this morning. The halls were empty, and I walked slowly. Not because of the pain from each st ep but because I dreaded facing them. They’d all know. They’d all look at me differently. The guy I had been was no longer, and that made for something to gawk at. To whisper about.
Blakely and I had been an item. Just after school ended, we had hooked up at a field party. I liked her. Or I had. She was fun, exciting, and she had no problem crawling in the back of my Escalade with me. I thought we had something. But like everything else, my injury changed it all. She came around a lot at first, then after a couple weeks of therapy she slowly began to fade away. I hadn’t heard from her in two weeks. I had texted her and got nothing. I saw from her Snapchats that she was living life. She just didn’t have time to r eply to me. I acc epted it as part of what would become my life now.