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Manning Up

Page 2

by Bee Walsh


  Handshakes

  When I walk into the locker room after school today, Coach looks me straight in the eye and reaches out his hand for mine. So does the offensive coordinator and the defensive coordinator and the quarterback and everyone on the line. They all shake my hand and say that I deserve it and that they are proud to play with me. Who will I be when I am no longer in this locker room with these guys to shake my hand?

  On The Wall

  When I get home from practice today, I see that Mom has framed my acceptance letter and hung it on the wall next to our baby photos. She put a bow on it, like it is a gift. I don’t know if it is to me or from me.

  Studying

  I thought maybe that after I was accepted into college I wouldn’t have to study so much. But now I feel like there’s even more pressure than before. Like now that I have it, I could easily lose it. Like if I work harder and run faster, I can’t let them down farther. So I take all the books home from my locker every day. And run five more sprints than Coach says I have to. I can’t lose it now that I have it.

  Saturday Nights

  All the guys go out with their girls on Saturday nights, like it’s just that easy. They go to the movies to make out or the hills to make out or the fields to make out. I take Beth to the diner to get her a milkshake, or stay home and watch game film. I’ve never had a girl to take out on a Saturday night. I don’t know how to ask them or why they would want to.

  The Gym

  I was getting out of the shower at the gym after lifting yesterday when I saw one of the trainers come in and drop off a small plastic bag to someone else’s locker. Like he was hoping no one would see. It didn’t take me long to realize what it was when the biggest guy in the gym came in and took his stuff out of that locker.

  The Trainer

  Ever since I saw that trainer drop something in the big guy’s locker, I’ve been wondering about how much bigger I could get if I talked to that trainer.

  Asking

  When I woke up this morning, I barely knew how to find the words I would need to ask for a small plastic bag. But by late afternoon, I had found them. And by evening, I had used them.

  Plastic Bag

  After I got out of the shower from lifting, I found a plastic bag in my locker, containing a few bottles, needles, and instructions. I quickly stuffed them in my gym bag and hopped in my truck to speed home.

  Needles

  I didn’t mind going to the doctor when I was a kid. Shots didn’t bother me. I knew it wouldn’t hurt that bad. And I saw how stressed my mother got when my sister cried and cried about them. So why is it that now as I sit in my bathroom in the middle of the night holding a needle full of anabolic steroids, my hand shakes?

  Effects

  I wondered if I would actually notice the effects after I finally got the needle into my skin. But at practice I timed my full field sprint down two seconds. “I’ve been training hard for you, Coach.” I say, as I feel my heart pound in my chest.

  Worse

  I know I should feel worse. I should feel bad. But man, these days, I am feeling good. Faster. Stronger. Fitter. I am waiting for the shoe to drop or whatever they say.

  Number 19

  I get another note today. Just my number drawn on an index card stuffed into my locker. This time, I don’t crumple it up and toss it. This time, I shove it in my pocket for later.

  Rituals

  Some of the guys are really funny before a game. They do a certain number of pull-ups or say a Hail Mary. I shake hands with Coach on the way to the field. We all do what we need to win the game.

  Looking Up

  I pull the index card with my number on it out of my gym bag and put it in the weight room locker. I’ve decided that after the snap, I’m going to look up into the stands for a girl holding a sign with my number on it. So, I do.

  A Game Like That

  I haven’t played a game like that maybe ever. Maybe it’s because playoffs are coming up. Or maybe it’s because someone other than Mom and Beth was in the stands for me. Someone with long, brown, curly hair. But the other team didn’t score a single touchdown and we were like gods.

  200 Days

  Halfway through the season, and I feel like a different guy than when it started. Everyone said senior year wouldn’t be like the rest of high school. And maybe I didn’t believe them. And maybe I wanted them to be wrong. And maybe I will be okay.

  Waring’s General Store

  Everyone is saying that I am the reason we dominated the game tonight. Everyone wants to pay for my food and smack my shoulder and shake my hand. Coach is seated on the other side of Waring’s with his wife and little girl. He’s looking at me in a way like he’s not really sure what he’s looking at. He’s looking at me like he’s seen young men like me before. He’s looking at me like he knows.

  Another One

  I find another note in my locker. This one asks if I had thought about if I might go to the Homecoming Dance or not. Honestly, I hadn’t. Obviously, I’ll play in the Homecoming Game and go to the pep rally. Mostly because Coach says we have to. The dance. Huh. She says I should let her know by scoring the winning touchdown on Friday. I want to say that’s not really what running backs do, but I’ve never actually said anything to her at all before.

  I’ve Been Thinking

  Laying in bed, staying up too late last night, that maybe, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to go to Homecoming. What am I saying? What do I know about dances? Or girls?

  First Time

  For the first time in a long time, I ask Mom for advice when she gets home from work.

  Hole in the Wall

  I never used to understand people who let their emotions control them. That never used to be who I was. Now I feel like I’ve got a hair trigger. One thing goes wrong, and I want to put my fist through the wall. I yelled at Beth because she used all the hot water when I just wanted to take a shower after practice. When was the last time I yelled at Beth? When was the last time I was so angry I could hit something?

  All Night

  I stay up all night, reading the side effects of steroid use online. You hear about all the bad stuff that will happen to your body, but you hear about it in after-school TV specials and movies about athletes who rose and fell. You don’t think about sitting in the same pink tile bathroom your mom used to bathe you and your sister in, filling a needle and jamming it into your thigh. You don’t think that you’re going to break out on your face and back. You don’t think you’re going to bruise from every hit. You don’t think your blood pressure will rise so high you can feel it in your teeth. But it all seems worth it when you’re flying down the field to score the winning touchdown.

  Almost

  Coach is mad something fierce today. Says we’ve been unfocused this week. Says he doesn’t know what our problem is. When Coach is mad, we run. And run. And run. And we run up and down that field so many times, I almost pass out for the first time since I first picked up a football. And it is in that moment when I fall to my knees and catch Coach’s eye, that I know that he knows.

  Paying For It

  Ever since practice last week when I fell on the field, Coach has been riding me. He doesn’t know what, but he knows something. He’s been keeping me longer and pushing me harder. Like if he can just get me to crack, he can figure out what’s going on. But Coach doesn’t understand how badly I need this. I need this.

  Playoffs

  We have a chance this year to go all the way. Coach has been at this high school for his whole life. He used to rush dudes on this very field. His senior year was the last time that this school saw a championship at States. And now here we are, 20 years later, and I think, we’re not just doing this for our own rings, but for Coach to win as well.

  Bills

  Mom seems so much lighter ever since the letter from the university arrived in the mail. She has always wanted more for Beth and me than to stay in this town and relive the same lives as everyone. Beth and I a
re the reason she works all that overtime and stays up late. Bills all over the dining room table. I can hear her talking to Dad, and she sighs into the checkbook. So, when we found out that some people wanted to pay for me to go to school, I could see the look in her eyes that it was all worth it. So, how could I possibly think of ever ever letting her down?

  The Weight

  Everyone wants to look like the people they see on TV and in the movies. All those muscles, that good skin, that good hair. We don’t want to think about how many hours those people spend at the gym. Or stand in front of the mirror in their house, hating themselves. I do. I think about it. I spend hours in the weight room before and after school, lifting, pulling, heaving, counting down the calories from the day. I think about the weight of my body. The weight of taking us to playoffs. The weight of not letting Mom and Beth down. The weight of keeping all these secrets.

  Qualified

  Not in 20 years has our little town of Comfort gotten this close to going to States. But last night, when we broke the two-and-a-half- quarter-long tie with the winning touchdown in the last second, it was like you could hear the town wake up.

  The Touchdown

  I hadn’t decided when we went onto the field last night if I was the type of guy a girl would want to go to Homecoming with or not. All I’ve ever wanted is for no one to ever look at me. And now I can’t stop thinking about the girl with the brown curls in front of her face and how she looks at me from the stands. I want to yell, “DON’T LOOK AT ME.” But also, “Please, see me.”

  Homecoming

  It’s not until it’s already happening that I decide I am going to do it. Nine seconds left on the clock and I see QB pass me on my left and I know where we’re going. In that moment, I want to be seen. In that moment, I know there isn’t anyone getting in our way as we take everyone down who tries to stop us. In that moment, I take off for the end zone with the ball midair like I was born to catch it. And catch it, I do. We win the game. But all I can think about is the girl with the brown curls falling in her face.

  Quiet

  When I look up from the end zone as the final whistle blows, I should see Coach throwing his hat into the air. Or the team all running toward me and QB. Or the stands full of everyone from town rushing onto the field. But the only thing I see is a girl standing in the bleachers holding a sign— 19. And it all goes quiet.

  Hello

  After the game that ensures the Comfort Bobcats are going to playoffs for the first time in 20 years, I’m not sure what is making my heart pound more. The adrenaline? The injections? The girl? Before I can take a breath, Coach shouts for us to line up to shake the hands of the other team. We have to push our way through the crowds of fans on the field. And for a moment, I think I see her brush past me. But when I turn my head, she is gone. After the handshakes, we rally our way into the locker room. Coach gives us the kind of speech you hear in movies about high school football. I don’t hear a word of it. I don’t hear a word of anything. Until I get to my truck and see the girl with brown curls leaning on the hood. “Hello.”

  Hello, Pt. 2

  It’s like the whole world goes from mute to the volume all the way up. “Hi.” “How does it feel to have scored the touchdown that will take y’all to playoffs?” And that’s when I all of a sudden feel my heart pounding in my entire body. Like I need to sit down right now or I might pass out. And somehow she knows that, even though I don’t say anything. “Why don’t you sit down before it all catches up with you?” I don’t want to think about everything catching up with me. I can’t stand the thought.

  Missed Out

  I’ve never not gone out with the team after a game Friday night. Until I find myself and Ellie sitting in my truck behind the field house at the high school for hours after the game. I learn Ellie moved to Comfort two years ago from Oregon because her dad is in the Air Force. I learn it’s the 12th time she’s moved in her life. I learn her younger sister is friends with my younger sister. And I learn that she decided to leave a note in my locker after she saw me defend a freshman in the cafeteria when he was getting picked on for dropping his tray. Also, she tells me she’s borrowing a green dress from her mom to wear to Homecoming. And she doesn’t like cut flowers, so I don’t have to buy a corsage. Whatever that is.

  Wednesday with Terry

  “Do you even know how to talk to a girl, man?” Terry says as he shovels Mom’s fried chicken into his mouth. He’s come over after we spent the afternoon trying to get his 1955 Pontiac Chieftain to finally start. “I don’t know about talking, but I did a good amount of listening,” I say as I push the chicken closer to him. “You sure she knew it was your locker when she dropped the note in?” I laugh and roll my eyes. “She knew at least it wasn’t yours.”

  Grocery Shopping

  Every time we win a game, I feel like I get taller, but not in a good way. The taller I get, the more everyone notices me whenever I’m around. Yesterday, Mom asked me to pick up breadcrumbs at Lowe’s Market. What should have taken me 10 minutes ended up taking me almost an hour. Everyone wants to stop and talk to me about how they think I should play the game. I can’t even make it from the door to my car without Mr. Sheel telling me to keep my shoulders down. I think the only thing I am looking forward to after graduation is that I won’t be this tall anymore.

  The Countdown

  Part of me thinks I don’t know how we got this far, farther than we’ve ever gotten before. Playoffs. But the other part of me knows we got this far because we really worked for it. The things that I have done in the past two months. Man, I don’t even know who I’m going to be when this is all over. Will I be the guy who makes his mother proud? Or will I be the guy who can’t even look her in the eyes?

  New Suit

  Mom looks at me with her squinted eyes and small smile when I tell her I’m going to the Homecoming Dance. Like she wants to be really careful of what she says next, or I might run away and slam my door. After about half a minute, she asks me if I want to buy a new suit. Nah.

  Getting Ready

  I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to convince myself to get into the shower. I can’t stop looking at my shoulders. Acne I’ve never had before. Stretch marks on my sides, strange hairs on my chest. I can’t breathe. I turn the shower as hot as it gets and stand under it until I want to pass out. Doesn’t it say somewhere in the Bible that you need to be made pure with fire? I turn the water off and sit down in the tub, using every muscle in my body to keep my eyes from filling with tears. What girl would want a guy as weak and awful as me? But it’s too late now to not go. That’s not the son my dad would have wanted. Or the one my mom raised. Out of the shower and into my old suit, a new green tie to match Ellie’s dress. My shaking hands can barely knot it. Mom, knocking on my bedroom door, wants a picture before I leave. Wants to know if I want to take her car instead of the truck. Wants to know when we can have Ellie over for dinner. My shaking hands cover my mouth to keep from throwing up. On the way to my truck, I can hear Coach’s motto in my ears: “ALWAYS EARNED, NEVER GIVEN.”

  Yes, Sir

  I haven’t even thought about having to meet Ellie’s parents before I pull up in front of her house. Her Air Force father answers the door, and I freeze for a moment before reaching out to shake his hand. “You must be Jack?” “Yes, sir.” “C’mon in.” Ellie is standing in the entrance to the living room in a dress the color of a ring my grandmother used to wear. Emerald, I think. Her mother stands between us, camera in hand, doing something with her smile that is half joy and half fear. (Later, Ellie will tell me that I am the first guy she’s ever brought home.) “You played a good game Friday. That was quite the final touchdown.” “Yes, sir.” After pictures, and a short, quiet lecture from Ellie’s father that reminded me of something I might hear from Coach, we get into my truck and leave for the dance. It isn’t until after a few minutes of driving that I
realize I have gone silent. “You don’t seem like you’ve done this before.” “Which part?” Which is when Ellie laughs in a way that makes the bottom of my stomach drop out, but in a good way.

  1000 Things

  Mom always listens to this old musician from the early 2000s named Jason Mraz. He’s got this song that she plays all the time when she’s missing Dad called “1000 Things.” I had never understood what Mraz meant when he said that he’d seen a thousand things in one place, but then stopped counting when he saw her face. Until I saw Ellie laughing with a group of her friends. And I felt like I wanted to keep her laughing like that forever. I walked over to her and put my arm around her shoulders and felt her wrap her arm around my waist. In that moment, something changed. We weren’t just two kids at a dance. We were in it together now.

 

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