His Last Mistake [COMPLETED]

Two

"Rollins." Coach Stafford's voice was deep and booming. Jake knew that tone; something was wrong. He slowed up, letting the rest of his teammates head for the showers, hoping whatever was wrong wasn't nearly as bad as the look on his coach's face made it seem.

"What's up, coach?" He tried to be nonchalant, but he was sweating through his jersey.

"I talked to your English teacher today," Coach Stafford replied.

Shit, Jake thought. He drew in a sharp breath; he had a pretty good idea what this was about, and it wasn't good.

"Tells me you've had a little problem recently with plagiarizing," he went on. "Says you paid one of your classmates to write a paper for you."

Jake swallowed hard. He knew this was bad but he hoped being one of the team favorites, he could sweet talk his way out of it.

"Yeah, y'know, I was just so crammed before that game last week against Southside and I've been having some problems with my girl and everything..." His voice trailed off and he shrugged pathetically. "It won't happen again, sir." He gave his coach a sincere look of remorse, hoping it would be enough.

"You know the rule about academics," his coach continued. "You crossed a line, one that 'sorry' isn't going to fix. I'm sorry, kid, but you're off the team. Shower and clean out your locker."

"Coach!" Jake started, but Coach Stafford just shook his head in disappointment and sauntered off towards his office. Jake stood there, stunned, and the reality sank in.

"Shit!" He screamed, and punted the soccer ball he'd been holding.

His best friend, Stephen, was lingering nearby. He jogged over to Jake where he stood in the middle of the field, cursing.

"Dude, what was that all about?" Stephen grabbed Jake by the shoulders, trying to focus him. Jake shoved him away.

"I'm off the team, bro. Coach found out about that essay McKinley wrote for me. I'm dunzo. How can this be happening? UCLA was coming next week to see me play!" Spit flew out of Jake's mouth as he cursed and carried on. 

"My whole college career is over before it's even started. Fuck!" Jake's face grew hot with rage. He could feel angry tears forming at the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them back. No way was he going to let anyone see him cry, even his best friend. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. 

"Dude, what am I gonna do? Soccer is my whole life." He slumped down into the grass of the field, dropping his head between his knees.

Stephen squatted down next to him. "Screw Coach Stafford, man. He's not willing to give you another chance? So what? You don't need him. You've got plenty enough going for you to get into college, you can just try out for the team once you're there. With your skill, you know you'll make it." He gave Jake a light punch in the shoulder. "And until he's willing to put you back on the team, which he totally will when he realizes how bad we suck without you," Stephen went on, "I'm off the team, too."

Jake lifted his head and looked at his best friend. "Nah, man, I can't let you quit just 'cause I got thrown from the team. No way."

"Shut up, dude. You know you're my best friend, if you're going down, I'm coming with." He stood and held his hand out to Jake, who grabbed it and pulled himself to his feet. Stephen slung his arm over Jake's shoulder and together they walked off the field for the last time.