Of course I end up waiting for my parents. I fall asleep at the kitchen table, again. I just have to make sure that they don't forget, that they actually sign the form. I need them to.
I'm woken up around two. I hear a door opening, and look at the clock, before hearing my mom's voice shushing my dad. "Shh, quiet down."
I stand up, and I guess I make enough sound, because they both look at me. My mom immediately goes into disappointed parent mode: she crosses her arms and lifts an eyebrow at me. "Tyler, you said you wouldn't wait up for us."
"I know, Mom. But this is really important."
My dad sighs and scratches the back of his head, coming over and putting on his reading glasses. "Alright. Where do I sign?"
I point, pushing a pen into his hand. He signs on the line, and I immediately feel twenty million times better. I exhale carefully, mentally making a note to not lose this one. "Thanks."
My mom finally gives up on being disappointed and comes over to ruffle my hair. I would duck, but I don't honestly want to. "Oh, Tyler, it seems like so long since we've seen you last."
Probably because it's been at least a couple of weeks, if not longer. "Yeah. Sorry about the forty something calls."
"Oh, don't worry. We were on the plane, it didn't even go through," my mom says, pecking my cheek as she moves on to the fridge. "Do you need any more frozen dinners? How are you for food?"
Food. The one indicator of my parents' presence in the house. They'll come and go and restock the food in the house before disappearing again. "Yeah, I'm running a little low. I could use another loaf or so of rye bread. And some more frozen dinners would be good, too."
"Alright, we'll make sure we buy you some before our next flight," my dad says as my mom moves on, once again, to surveying the house.
"Tyler, what did you do to the house? It looks like a tornado came through here," she says, her voice indicating that the corners of her mouth are turned down. It's a very specific tone.
"I lost my first form, for the tournament. I was going crazy trying to find it."
"You did, though?" my dad asks, gesturing to the form still on the table. I grab it so I don't forget to pack it and flip through it one more time to make sure I have everything filled out.
"Yeah. I mean, no. Coach printed me a new one."
"Doesn't your coach usually have a no-extra-copies rule?"
"Yeah. I was the only person who didn't hand their form in, so he figured he could, this time. Like I said: really important tournament." More important than my other tournaments, which you both missed.
"Oh! Tyler, the whole house?" my mother calls from the top floor (she moves from place to place pretty quickly. She doesn't stay rooted anywhere for very long).
"I needed to find it," I call back to her. "Really important."
My dad pats me on the shoulder, giving me a small smile. "I'm glad you found it, then. Everything signed and good to go?"
I finish checking it for like, the third time. "Yeah. It's good. Thanks a lot."
"No problem, Tyler." He goes to the staircase. "Dear, we'd better get going if we want to pick up some food and bring it back here before our flight!"
"Yes, yes, I'm coming," she says, hurrying down the stairs. "Alright. Tyler, do you need anything else?"
How about parents that care about me? "Nope, I'm good. I'll see you guys... later." In a month or two.
My mom gives me a smile and kisses my cheek. "Good. And yes, of course." She goes to the door, putting on her jacket and shoes again as my dad plants a kiss on my forehead, then follows her. "Bye now!"
I stand there for what feels like it could be hours, trying to stay in the moment. I can still feel the warmth of both my parents' kisses on my face, and hear the echoes of my mom's voice calling out before the door closed.
I wake up the next morning to the doorbell, and for a moment I think it's Sunday. Then I look at the clock, and realize it's early enough for me to actually be justifiably exhausted.
I go down to the door, and of course it's Vick. He groans when he sees me.
"You're not ready to go? Come on! What, did your parents not get back to you with a picture of something they signed last night?"
I yawn. "No, they came home. I have the form signed."
"Then go get your bag and change, and I'll make you some toast. Move it! We have to be at the club by six!"
"Wait, like, six in the morning? I thought it was supposed to be six in the afternoon!"
"No way, Sleeping Beauty. Get ready to go! Move!"
I do as he says and book it upstairs, eternally grateful that I packed last night as I hurriedly change, then grab my packed duffle bag and bolt back down the stairs. Vick shoves a plastic bag into my hand and grabs my wrist, yanking me out the door. I hurriedly lock it, and we practically run to the club.
The bus is already there, Coach Turner checking his watch. He sees us and sighs. Vick shoves his bag into the storage compartment, then scampers onto the bus before Coach Turner can even look at him. I carefully pull out my signed form, handing it to him. He flips to the back page, where my dad's signature is, then nods and takes my duffel bag, gesturing with his head for me to get on the bus. I do.
I slip into the seat next to Vick and sigh, leaning back against the headrest. Nick gives us a curious look.
"Where were you guys? You almost missed the bus!"
Vick jerks a thumb in my direction. "This moron thought the bus left at six p.m."
"Dude!" Jack says, giving me a look. I scrub my face with one hand and sigh again.
"I was up late waiting for my parents to get home to make sure they signed my form. And I've been a little preoccupied trying to find my forms and get them filled out over the past week."
"So preoccupied that you didn't even hear when the bus was leaving?" Nick asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
"Yes, I was that preoccupied. Cut me some slack."
"Alright, boys! Try and get some sleep, it'll be a few hours before we get there!" Coach Turner booms through the bus. "You've got a busy schedule later, too, and I need you awake for that. Understood?"
"Yes, Coach," comes the more tired than usual refrain.
He sits in the front of the bus, and the vehicle lurches forwards.
It turns out that I have no problem sleeping on the bus, because I'm woken up what feels like minutes later by Coach's voice yelling "Alright boys! We're here! Up and at 'em!"
We all groan and slowly shuffle to our feet, dragging our feet to the front of the bus as we wake up. We start moving a little faster after collecting our bags, and the group ambles into the building we're apparently staying in during the tournament.
Coach Turner checks in at the front desk and starts reading off groups for rooms. I wait for my name, expecting to hear it alongside Nick, Jack, and/or Vick, but I don't. In fact, I don't hear my name at all. Once Coach finishes reading names, none of which are mine, I approach him. He sees me and prevents me from speaking by holding up a hand.
"I know, Tyler. Because your form was late, your registration was late, and I couldn't fit you into one of our rooms. Fortunately," he says, looking around the lobby and not sounding like he thinks this is very fortunate at all, "another coach had the same predicament. So you'll be bunking with someone from that club. Ah, there." He waves, and I turn to see a tall, muscular woman.
"Coach Turner," she says as soon as she reaches us. Her tone is dripping with disdain. "Is this your latecomer?"
Coach Turner's clenching his jaw as he looks at her. "Coach Sue. Yes, it is. What's the room number?"
She hands him a room key, despite me being literally right here. "Four-thirty-one. Mine's already up there."
"Thank you very much," Coach Turner says, still not sounding super thankful or pleased about this at all. Coach Sue doesn't look super thrilled about the arrangement either, and leaves the second she's finished talking. What the heck?
Coach Turner turns to me and gives me the room key. "Alright, Andrews. Don't do anything to the kid you're rooming with. She'll probably take any excuse to have you expelled from the tournament. And if he does anything to you, tell me immediately."
"So that you can have him expelled from the tournament?"
"Don't get smart with me. If he's out of the tournament, it's as good as yours."
I blink. "Wait, really?"
"Yes. Now go to your room and get settled in."
Still processing this, I take the room key and start towards the elevators. Vick is leaning against the wall. I grin when I see him.
"Waiting for me?"
"Shut up and tell me what happened. Why didn't you get a room?"
"My form was late, so I'm rooming with a guy from another club who was also late."
"Really?" His eyes are wide.
"Yeah. It's not a big deal, though. I mean, it's not like we have to actually talk to each other."
Vick rolls his eyes and jams his thumb into the button to call the elevator. "You're going to be rooming with a rival wrestler? And you don't think that's a big deal? Dude! What if he jumps you in your sleep?"
My brain goes somewhere completely different than what he means at first, and I blink before realizing that he means attack. "Coach Turner said to tell him if he does anything, because he can be expelled from the tournament."
"Yeah, but if he gets in enough good hits before you wake up, then you could get hurt enough to be pulled from the tournament, and someone else from his club could win. Or, since he's a wrestler, he could try and smother you- you'll already be lying down."
The elevator arrives with a light ding and we get in. He presses the button for level three, and I press four. He looks at me with big eyes.
"You're not even on the same level? Are you on the same level as the rest of his club? Tyler, I don't think this is a good idea."
"Coach clearly doesn't either, but it's also the only option."
"Next time, don't lose your form," Vick grumbles at me. I roll my eyes, and the elevator stops at the third floor, so he gets off (but not without one last remark). "Just be careful. If his coach thinks he's good enough to get special treatment, he's good enough to hurt you- especially if you're asleep."
I sigh a little. "I know, Vick. I will."
The doors close, and a moment later, I arrive at the fourth floor. I step out and spend a moment deciphering the many signs pointing down several hallways before finding one that should lead to my room, number four-thirty-one.
I wander down the hallway, turning a few times before finding the door that should be mine. I check the room key card, seeing the correct numbers printed across the top. I take a breath and swipe it through, hearing a satisfied chime before opening the door.
I step in.
And stop.
Thoughts on Tyler's parents? Tyler being roommates with someone from another club? Is Vick's paranoia reasonable? Predictions for why Tyler stopped? Let me know!
Thank you so much for reading!