Cheating Gods of Death (Sequel to L: Find A GirLfriend)

Feeling

In February, conditioning started up for the spring season of soccer.

I had always liked the sport above all others. The outdoorsyness of football, the simple goal and court like basketball... I could preach a sermon. Running around feels right on a field like that. The force and control of passing and receiving feels like someone else's heartbeat, one that makes yours want to synchronize. Scoring is a chant, a song, harmony in the dissonance and the noise of your team and your mind. Coming home from practice, or the relief, can counter and overcome the aches and sharp pangs with joy. With joy you leave, but damn, do you want to get back on the field

Ms. Bigham watches Erica until conditioning is over, my mom and her went to school together, as well as Des (we call her Des, yes). All three of them would gather for dinner, and everyone's kids would have to come. Mom told us to hold our own if we had to, and to suffer through it for her sake. We did, knowing half the time she dressed Dad up for the occasion, and it was so unlike him we felt we should do something to lessen their burden. It was Des's daughter Adelaide, and Ms. Bigham's two, Isabella and Drew. She's got a third coming now, told my mom that her name was Kylie.

"Adams! Carwile! Crews! Dawson! Denson! Ferguson! James! Johnson! Keaton! Lawliet! MacReilley! McDaniels! McRorie! Pugh! Richards! Salmon! Sanborn! Shipley! Stevens! Williamson! Wright!"

He called out our names, he knew us all. A cacophony of "Here!" was his response, cut short by the screech of a blue whistle in his mouth, the flute of Satan.

I sprinted as many times as Coach told us to; I faltered, but didn't fall. The cold slashed through my sweatshirt's sleeves and I bit back at it through the wind. My legs felt stiff and frozen, and I ran again, keeping the ball at my feet within reach, numbness making it difficult. Jared was there for half of it, before Gabby wanted to leave, whooping at us from the bleachers.

I almost missed the locker room, I always do when season's over.

"Lawliet, it's good to see you back, boy."

He patted his giant lumberjack friggin' hands between my shoulder blades.

"Damn! Chilly are we? You're built pretty thin, George."

"Yeah..."

"How ya been?"

"Good."

I nearly felt like sighing when the compression sleeves came off.

"How's your family, George?"

You'd think him talking like this in a locker room of half-naked minors would incite some anxiety, but no. He's just an all American, southern guy. My mother doesn't think Virginia is southern, but she also says that anywhere is anything you want it to be (in that context.)

"We're fine-"

"How's your pop?"

"He... He woke up."

He knew about dad, my JV season was when Mom told him after getting hit on by Mr. Carlson, the other coach. She played recreation league with him, and went to high school. Every time he's hit on her, she's go into a rage about how she wasn't this wonderful in High School, and how guys shouldn't be interested in her now if they weren't then.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I gotta meet him- Your mom's number the same?"

"Yeah, Coach."

He had a good relationship with all of us. He really fucking cared... He seemed almost like a dad. He coached me in micro mini soccer, and part-timed the one year I was in JV until I made it to varsity. He drove me home from a basketball game when Katelyn Langerack had an episode of paranoia so bad that she refused to the police to come out of her bathroom unless Mom came to bring her Sarah, her "stuffie bunny" (Katelyn fried herself on meth, and got clean, but the paranoia and psychosis stayed embedded under her skin. She called her stuffed animal a stuffie. Stay away from drugs, kids.) It was freezing outside that night, and I was locked out of the school.