Wheelchair Accessible

Part Thirteen

             "I guess I can do that."

           "Great," he nodded. And then, as though he didn't know any other way to end a conversation with his players, he added, "Now uh, hit the showers.

                "Thanks, Coach." 

I left the field and headed for the locker room, feeling like a fifty pound weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I only needed to stay for a couple more weeks and then I was free. It wasn't a completely fresh start, but it was the beginning of a new beginning, and it felt really good. 

                Stepping into the change room, I immediately felt the pressure of a dozen pairs of eyes on me. I usually hated when people stared at me, especially people from school, but it was like that signal in my brain had been turned off. I didn't care anymore. The hold they used to have on me was gone.

                "Aw, look who showed up, boys," Will laughed mockingly, rubbing a towel over his head. "Harris is finally man enough to shower with the rest of us."

              I held back an eye roll and silently moved for my locker. Unfortunately, they were organized alphabetically, so ours were right next to each other. I could feel his presence hovering beside me as I shoved my gear in.

                "You really think ignoring me is a good idea, Harris?" he said, just loud enough for me to hear. "After all, I heard some rumors that you were going to be partying this weekend. Man, Coach is going to be so--"

               "Save it, Will," I cut him off, but keeping my tone calm. I didn't want this to escalate and then have to go back to Shawna's with a black eye again. "You can stop. I already quit the team."

                To my surprise, Will had no snarky reply. In fact, he looked confused.

                "Wait," another teammate, Al, said, overhearing our conversation. "Harris, you quit?"

                His voice was loud enough that now everyone had heard the news, and I had regained their attention. I nodded once, and refocused on packing up my gear. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it.

                "Dude," Al shoved Will's arm, and in a hushed voice that still carried, said, "He's our best middle linebacker. We can't lose him before the game."

                "We're fine," Will snapped, mouth curled. He narrowed his eyes and took a step closer to me, "What do you think you're playing at, Harris? You think we're going to beg for you to stay? We don't need you."

                "Uh yeah, we kind of do—"

                "Shut up, Al," Will hissed, slamming a fist against a locker with a loud bang. "Screw you, Harris. You know I have college scouts coming to that game."

                And for the first time, I realized that Will looked genuinely nervous beneath the layers of ticked off rage. Even after years of friendship with him, I had never seen this kind of vulnerability from him. He'd always played it cool, like nothing bothered him. But seeing him like this, I realized he was actually... just a guy. A highschool kid, not knowing what his future was going to look like.

Kind of like me. 

Maybe he had scholarships riding on this game, maybe he had a family member pressuring him to do well... I had no idea. I didn't really know anything about Will Graham. 

              I fiddled with my bag while Will aggressively shoved things around in his locker beside me. Once I figured the team wasn't listening anymore, I tried to calm Will down in a quiet voice, "I'm not leaving until after the next game."