Straight Boys

Straight Up

I was a walking zombie now.

My legs felt like tooth picks someone used between their teeth one too many times. Worn and dull as they carried me through the school parking lot.

Football practice was almost over, but I couldn't spend another second in the antiseptic smelling wasteland that knew how to suck the life out of anyone even when it was bringing it back into them. I couldn't stand the sounds of oxygen being given and carts of dinner rolling down the halls towards patients any longer. The weight of saddened eyes on my father and I was becoming heavy, so I had to leave. I just had to because I couldn't look at my sister's lifeless body being poked and prodded at to save her life. I had to leave, so I wouldn't suddenly spill over with the ferocity of the situation that death was playing us with.

I had to leave, and the only place that wouldn't make me want to punch a wall was the stadium.

As I closed in on the entrance gate, the booming voice of Coach could be heard, as well as shrill cheering from the cheer team. I found comfort from it, weirdly, the sounds familiar and old. Not new, like the ventilators and heart monitors surrounding my life in a frequent combat.

Filing onto the field, I had my hands shoved into the pockets of my jacket - mother nature's sweet song of ice making itself known more and more this past week, especially from the lowering sun. Although a slight coolness was in the air, I could still feel heat radiating around the field, and so could everyone else. The girls were all in something light and some even had their hair tied back, and the guys were running around in only shoulder pads and no shirt underneath or over.

As I got closer to where most of the pack stood, Coach Matthews finally noticed my ever impending presence. "Nice to see you've finally showed up, Parsley." He deadpanned. That's what I liked about coach. He didn't act like that you breaking off a seven year long relationship with your girlfriend, or your mom and dad getting a divorce or worse, dying, was a trip to be sad and treat you different on. He simply treated you like normal after the initial shock of everything. He gave no one - especially the captain - special treatment for longer than socially acceptable. I admired him for it, but if I wasn't in a situation like the one I was in, I would have thought him rude and cold hearted. Maybe he was, but that was what I needed to not feel so hopeless and lost. Like I was fragile.

"You know," he added in, "I made you captain for a reason, but that reason wasn't for you to skip out on practice whenever you felt like it!" The whole time, he hadn't even spared me a glance, only keeping to the plays.

"I know, coach. Sorry, coach." I, and everybody else, treated coach like a Drill Sargent. It was a show of respect, and a 'please-don't-kill-me' sign.

"Now," he finally looked at me, his eyes just the taddest bit softer than normal, or maybe it was my imagination, "Tomorrow, at the game, I expect you to play your ass off, or you can kiss that title goodbye." I nodded.

"I will."

Coach started clapping, his signature whistle, along with his, "Alright, bring it in!" starting to round the guys up. Sweaty bodies followed orders and were surrounding coach and I.

"Hey, it's Andrew! Dude, you missed it! Rodriguez had a mental breakdown when Ashton clipped him -"

"How's your mom and sis? Are they awake yet?"

"Can you not bail on us, please? When you aren't here, Zach likes to make it a big deal that he's 'sheriff around here, now' and shit like it!"

"Guys, c'mon! Leave Andrew alone! He's clearly had a rough day."

An eardrum bursting whistle broke up the mixed speeches of everybody, and I was silently thanking coach for it. I would have screamed at all of them to shut the fuck up if he hadn't already started getting annoyed first. "Alright, alright, alright! Shut the Hell up and listen. Ya'll did pretty good in practice today and for that, early release." By early, Coach Matthews meant the time practice was supposed to actually end instead of thirty minutes or so after.