5. Why Are You Following Me?

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"Go home, boy...." Mike hugged him and sent him to the house next to his. He headed into his own house and sighed when he saw black fingernails with skulls on some of them, spreading the blinds open. They closed right when he saw them.


"Don't come in here and defend him, Mike! Why did you hug him? Was he some replacement of me when-"


"No! No... EJ has it hard at home. I do not doubt that he was a jerk to you," Mike said, pulling his son into a hug, "I hope you didn't get in a fight at school... is that why you were late,"


"Almost, but no...." Ricky closed his eyes and hugged his Dad.


"Ricky, no one could ever replace you... you are my baby boy," Mike said, pulling away and kneeling to look his son in the eye. "Do you know how worried I was? It's 5 o'clock," Mike's eyes glassed up. "I had no idea if you were hurt or getting drugs on the streets again. You have to tell me where you were, or we will have a problem," He kept a stern face with a calm tone because Ricky would clam up when he was too firm. "Ricky, I am not kidding. Why are you smiling?"


"Mike, sit down, would you," Ricky said, and his father glared at him as he hesitantly sat down. "Well... I was late because I was trying out for Football,"


"What?" Mike asked, and Ricky raised his eyebrows


"You love Football.. why are you confused? I thought you would be proud of me?" Ricky rambled


"Oh sweetie, no... of course, I am proud of you for trying out... I just thought you hate sports,"


"I do," Ricky scoffed, and his Dad was still confused.


"Rickster... Did you try out because you were trying to make me happy? I love you, honey. How bad are you hurt?" Mike asked, pulling up Ricky's sleeves to inspect the damage, "I thought you liked singing or drawing your little comics and Disney characters."


"Dad... they are graphic novels and anime characters...." Ricky said, embarrassed that his Dad didn't know the difference between Mickey Mouse and Light from Death Note. It still made him cringe when his father found his sketch bad of lewd Light Yagami and L drawings. "I don't have any injuries,"


"Oh, I forgot they don't make contact at tryouts... Son, don't be disappointed; I will talk to Balboa and see if he will let you be a water boy if you want... Why did you try out again?"


"I want to make EJ Caswell's life miserable," Ricky started pacing, now more floored than ever, "I will take him down from the inside... when I am done with him, he will be crying and begging for me to stop destroying him," Ricky ran his hands threw his hair and pulled it out when his fingers got stuck. It had gotten tangled after all the running and sweating of the day.


"Ricky, your evil genius is showing," Mike cupped his son's face for him to simmer down.


"Of course, you would disapprove humiliation... EJ Caswell is the Golden Boy of Salt Lake, isn't he," Ricky muttered.


"Son, why do you think I live in the house next to the Caswells?" Mike asked, "After Cash was such an ass that day and you were taken away from me, I got sober and worked hard. When I won that case against Erica, I made sure to buy the most expensive and big house just to spite them... just so happens that it was right next to theirs," Mike evilly smirked, "I have been slowly turning on the water spicket beside the window to the basement they never go in. Thousands of Caswell Memorabilia are soaked... If you destroy a Caswell, you must think and play it long haul..."


"Yes! I knew I got my beautiful brain from someone!" Ricky kissed his father's brain and began to pace around again, "But we are going to have to do more... let's put some sleeping gas in their air conditioner more and more every night. Then we can sneak into their house and dress them up in tutus and bras, take pictures of them, and-"


"Too Evil, Sweet Boy... I think I might still have Balboa's number," Mike said, grabbing his phone from his pocket, "You need to text me if your plans divert, Mister,"


"Dad, no," Ricky smiled, "I made the team,"


"You made the team?!" Mike grinned


"I am going to ignore your tone and not be offended. You have so little faith in me," Ricky said, and his father began apologizing, "Not only did I make the team. I am Quarterback!" Ricky bounced excited, "Starting Quarterback!"


"You are Quarterback!" His Dad giggled giddy and picked his son up, hugging and spinning him in circles. "I need to work on chasing... tryouts were boring, and I only was against mannequins.


EJ was up in his room and heard screaming and laughing. He walked over to his window and peered out. His father was holding their cat like a football, and Ricky chased him. EJ looked at them like they were the craziest people in this world. What Father and Son practice Football together?


"Eric James Caswell!" Cash stormed into his son's room, "Why am I hearing that you have been demoted to backup quarterback,"


"I don't know, Dad! Talk to Coach Balboa. He is going crazy! He let 5... 5! Juniors to the team! He replaced with Freaky Bowen!" EJ said, pointing out at them, and his father looked down.


"What the hell are they doing with that cat," Cash contorted his face and sighed, looking to EJ, "I am going to talk to that, Coach... If I hear that you slacked off, then you will be sorry. Do you know how embarrassing it will be for your mother when she finds out a Bowen competed you? He looks like a fucking faggot... Mike would let his son become a sissy," Cash threatened. EJ kept his mouth shut. Ricky was anything but a sissy... His tummy still hurt from the tackle.


"I am sorry, Father... I hope we can get this sorted out,"
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