According to Plan

Chapter 9

"What a weakling," coach Henry commented as he gave me a look. He spat black tabacco on the grass next to me, "I don't even think you qualify for team B. Why, you otta be team Z. Now hit the showers boy, I don't want you on my field."

"But coach, I can play!" I replied, springing up and bouncing, "look, I'm alright."

He chuckled darkly, "Reese, ma boy, looks like you're no longer the towel boy. You've earned the status of a bench warmer. Grats!"

Coach Henry threw a dirty towel at me, "the boy's will be needing some drinks after this. Go set 'em up."

"Yes!" Reese celebrated and did some funky dance.

"But coach," I ran after him in my oversized football gear, "this isn't fair! You haven't even given me a chance to improve or--"

He turned and eyed me ruefully, "what are you trying to tell me, boy?"

I bit down on my lip, sighed, and backed away, "nothing coach. I'll go get the drinks."

Angrily, I kicked at the grass and marched over to the gatorade stand.

And so, days passed as being the towel boy. My normal routine for the week: Wake up, get bullied by Byron Bosniac, sulk, suck it up, gawk at Cameron DiMarco, listen to Billy complain about how miserable his life is, fetch the guys some drinks after practice, get Billy to leave a pile of towels outside the shower room for them (no way was I going in there), and finally, sulk once more and go to bed.

Finally, Saturday came rolling by. We had the weekends off so pretty much everyone would go off campus to visit their family or just go out to party. But me? I took advantage of this Saturday.

"Shower!" I screamed and jumped off the bunk. I danced proudly, noticing the room was empty, "I get to shower, I get to shower!" so I continued my jingle and danced like a maniac around the dorm... only to bump into something rugged.

I stumbeled back, blinking and dazed. Immediatly, my face burned like fire as Cameron DiMarco stood there, tall and stiff. His arms were crossed and he gave me a sympathetic look.

I cleared my throat and deepend my voice, "I.. uhm.. I mean.."

"Don't tell me you havn't showered all week?"

I itched my head, "well.. ahah, you know.. hard work, who has time to shower?"

He laughed mockingly, "being a water boy is hard work?"

I frowned and was taken aback... how rude.

He must've noticed my expression, "dude, I'm only kidding. Relax."

I cleared my throat again, "so what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out partying with the guys or something?"

He looked at me with those electric silver eyes, "actually, I go to Portland every weekend to visit my mom. My flight leaves in a few.. I just forgot something."

I raised a brow, "Portland? That's where I live."

He chuckled, "so far from home."

I shrugged, "I know, it's better that way though."

He nodded, grabbed something off his bunk, and headed for the door, "and don't worry about coach. He can't keep you as the water boy forever."

I bit down on my lip... hopefully.

After that, I sprinted to the shower. Yes! I can finally get this nasty toilet water off my face. The boys' shower room was pretty repulsive. Gobs of hair swarmed around the drain and smudges of who-knows-what were painted across the walls. Unfortunately, there weren't stalls, but I simply fixed that by locking the shower room door.

"I get to shooower," I sang again. I ripped off the wig and let my dark hair flow down to my back. Atlast, I took off the stupid corset and my lungs sang a hallelujah anthem. The feeling of water hitting my face...

"I'm on cloud nine!"

"So what are we going to do this weekend?" Billy asked as he lay, sprawled on his bunk.

I dried my hair, my real hair, in a towel, "we explore Texas. That's what we're going to do."

He scowled, "you might want to put that wig back on. Anyone could come in here at any time."

I rolled my eyes then gasped, "Billy, I have an idea!"

He shook his head, "absolutely no way, I don't want to hear it, and it's an absolute no. Last time you had an idea, look where we ended up?"

"No, this is actually a good idea. Okay, so obviously we aren't the most popular guys in camp. So why don't we change that?"

He gave me a look.

"I mean, why don't we go to the party? I know where it is.."

"And how would we get there genius?" he asked, "do you have a car?"

I sighed and layed on Cameron's bed, "you're right. Maybe this wasn't very thought through. And I didn't plan on pouring gatorade into cups while I was here."

He shrugged and rubbed a bruise on his arm, "you just gotta practice and be able to take the hits. Our first game is coming soon. Just prove to him you know how to handle a hit."

I rolled my eyes, "Reese, wedgie-boy, knocked me down. Do you know how bad that looks?"

Billy was quiet.

I lay there, wondering how well Bradley had covered for me. By now my whole family would be in Omaha with Grams and Gramps. I'd still rather fill cups with gatorade than waste my summer away.

I whipped out my phone and dialed Leah's number.

"Hey Leah!" I said, excited to hear my best friend's voice.

"Stella?" she asked over the line, "hey!"

"It's like torture here! I wish you were here!"

"I know, I miss you too! So, have you met any cute guys?" She giggled.

"Leah, I'm dressed as Steve Morner, that's technically impossible," I hesitated, "but there is this one guy..."

"Ohh, do tell!"

"He's the only one who actually notices I exist! well, except for this one guy Byron.."

"K, well what's his name?!" she asked, impatient

"Oh, it's-"

"Actually, call me back later," she said, "Sarah Hamilton's throwing a party and she needs help setting up. She just got here! Bye! Love ya! And tell Billy I said hi!"

"Wait, but-"

The tone rung blankly and I pouted.

"Leah says Hi."