Last Line of Defense

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Last Line of Defense Page 2

by N. J. Corbo


  “At least he didn’t call the cops,” you hear Jesse say, and the other two laugh. You can tell that Jesse isn’t joking though.

  “Here, have a smoke, Jess,” you hear Cal offer.

  You run around the side to where you can see them and call over to Jesse. He looks at you somewhat desperately, like he’s been waiting for you to show up. His face almost says: where the heck have you been?

  You’re completely relieved.

  “C’mon, dude, we’ll be late,” you say, trying to sound annoyed so the guys won’t give him a hard time for leaving with you.

  “Sorry, guys,” he says. “I’ll see ya,” and he runs over to you.

  Coach is like a mind-reader; he invites Jesse to join in on drills before you even have a chance to ask. You’re doing a body balance drill called “Red Light, Green Light” today. It’s kind of like the game you used to play when you were younger, and you know Jesse remembers it too.

  “Alright, guys,” Coach says. “Keep your knees bent, hips back, and shoulders over your feet. And keep your shooting foot forward whenever I say ‘stop.’”

  He has you line up in front of him and tells you to be quick, but don’t hurry. He says it’s all about learning to be in control.

  A lot of things are still out of control right now, but on the court, you are back in control … and you’re happy. You want Jesse to have something like that too. As you run drills, talking and laughing with your friends, you look over and see him smiling. Maybe you can’t fix everything, but this seems like a good start.

  THE END

  Ellie wants to know about any weekend pick-up games, but you’re afraid the guys won’t be into a girl joining your Saturday game. You can’t lie to her, but you try to downplay it.

  “Um, yeah, ya know, sometimes we shoot hoops at the rec center.”

  Ellie stops walking and turns to you.

  “My big brother taught me how to play,” she says. “We used to play all the time. But then he left for the Navy.” She tucks her hands in her pockets and looks away. “He’s been away two years, and I really miss him. Now I mostly just practice by myself.” She turns back to you. “I really love playing basketball,” she adds.

  Ellie looks at the ground for a moment and then at you. You’re still not sure if this is a good idea, but she’s looking at you with those big green eyes of hers, and you can tell that she really wants to play basketball. A girl who loves basketball as much as you do – how cool is that? Besides, you know how much you’d hate it if you couldn’t play, except for in gym class.

  “I suppose you could come … ” you start to say.

  “That would be awesome!” She practically screams before you can finish your invitation.

  “I think I can talk the guys into letting you play one game,” you add quickly, before she gets her hopes too high. She doesn’t care. She gets the biggest smile on her face and starts jumping up and down. She gets some pretty good air too.

  “I really appreciate this, Phil. I promise, you won’t regret it.”

  As soon as you bring it up to the guys though, you do regret it.

  It’s Friday night and you’re at Tommy and Matty’s house, downstairs in their basement. Their dad turned it into a playroom, with carpet, recliner chairs, and a huge TV for movies and video games. They also have tons of board games and a really elaborate track for racing cars. They have more than a thousand cars too. You’re holding a little red sports car, spinning the wheels, not making eye contact with any of them.

  “Dude, a girl?” Ashton says, and smacks his forehead with his hand.

  “I dunno, Fixer,” Tommy adds. “I mean, have you even seen her play?”

  “Yeah,” you lie. “She’s alright.” They don’t seem convinced.

  “Look,” Matty says in a mock-serious voice. “We all know you’ve got the hots for her, but why does she have to play basketball with us?”

  Tomorrow you’ll be going to the rec center to play, so if you’re going to convince them, you need to do it now.

  “C’mon guys, it’ll just be for one lousy game,” you plead.

  “Wait. Did you already tell her she could play?” Ashton asks.

  “Kinda,” you admit.

  Just then, Ashton gets a funny look on his face. His eyes narrow and his lips curl into a devious smile. He tosses the Nerf ball and makes the shot.

  “What will you give us?”

  “Huh?”

  “What will you give us if we let Ellie play?”

  “Aww, man,” you say. “What do you want, Ash?”

  You know he’s always had his eye on your Clippers jersey, and that’s exactly what he wants. You tell him it’s not a fair trade, and you’re going to remember the next time he wants something, but he doesn’t care. He loves that jersey.

  “Do you guys want stuff too?” you ask Matty and Tommy.

  They don’t, but they say you owe them.

  You wake up feeling weird. But today, it has nothing to do with your family. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re nervous about how badly Ellie’s going to play, and so how bad the guys are going to make fun of you for it, or if it’s because you’re nervous to see her. Either way, the eggs your mom offers you are not going anywhere near your mouth. You grab a piece of toast instead and head out the door.

  It’s a chilly walk to the rec center, but the sun is shining. When you walk in, the guys are practicing their shots. Ellie walks in right behind you.

  “Hey, Phil.”

  “Hey, Ellie.”

  You chuckle awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. Luckily, you don’t have to think for long, because Tommy comes jogging over.

  “So, we usually play two-on-two,” he says, “but I’ll sit out for Ellie’s game.”

  Is he flirting with her or just being a good buddy? Who knows? But you decide not to worry about it. Your mind is plenty occupied with the game at hand.

  You all take a few practice shots and Ellie misses the first two, but then nails the third. You think maybe there’s some hope. It’s you and her against Matty and Ashton, so Tommy tosses the coin. First possession goes to you and Ellie. You’re a little worried she’ll be timid, but it’s immediately clear that she’s definitely not afraid. Ellie fronts Matt for you and slips behind him. You instinctually pass her the ball and move toward the basket. She spins and tosses the ball around Ashton. You get it, fake a pass, and go for a jump shot. It’s in – a perfect pick and roll, and you’ve never even played with her before. It’s a match made in heaven.

  Now Matty has the ball, but not for long. He dribbles and takes a few steps toward the net, but Ellie snatches the ball and tosses it to you behind her back. You hear Tommy say “Dang!” in the background, and you’re thinking the same thing. This girl’s got skills. You shoot from the wing and make it.

  “Hey,” Tommy teases Matty, “you want me to wring you out? Cuz that girl is mopping the court with you.”

  “Ha-ha, very funny,” Matt says back.

  Ashton grabs your arm and leans in to whisper something to you.

  “Listen,” he says “you can keep the jersey if I can have Ellie on my team next week.”

  You laugh and tell him you’ll think about it. This is going to be interesting.

  THE END

  You can’t keep covering for Jesse; no matter what you do, it doesn’t seem to help. Jesse tries to shove the smokes into his backpack, but Mrs. Doyle already saw them.

  “Cigarettes, young man?” she asks disapprovingly.

  For a moment, you think he might deny it. But, sounding defeated, he says, “Yeah.”

  “Give them to me,” she demands. “You’re going to Mr. Diggle’s office, and we’re calling your parents.”

  You wince, knowing that Jesse is in for it this time. Your grandpa on your mom’s side died of lung cancer, and both your parents think smoking is one of the worst things a person can do to their body.

  “Great,” Jesse says under his breath.

  “I’ll
come with you,” you say. You still feel protective. He says you don’t need to, but you go anyway.

  The principal’s office is a large room with windows all around it. He’s always watching, but once you’re inside, you feel like everyone is watching you – you’re on display, like a fish in a bowl. Mr. Diggle starts lecturing your brother about smoking. He wants to know if he thinks it looks cool. He tells Jesse that he should be more like you – an athlete who gets good grades – and that’s when Jesse loses it.

  “Not everyone can be perfect like Phil,” he yells. Jesse has been yelling a lot lately. He never used to be so angry, but the worse things get with your parents, the worse he behaves. You wish the principal hadn’t compared you.

  GO TO PAGE 39.

  Ellie is looking for a weekend pick-up game, but you don’t want her to ask if she can play with you and the guys. They won’t be into a girl joining the Saturday rec center game.

  “Um, I don’t know about any, uh, games,” you stutter.

  “You know,” she says, sounding a little angry, “I never pegged you for a liar, Phil Halverson.” She turns to look you in the eyes. “I know you play at the rec center. If you didn’t want to play ball with me, you could just say so.” She starts to walk away from you.

  “No, wait,” you call out and run after her. “I do, I just don’t know about the guys.” She stops walking but doesn’t turn around. You tell her that you have a hoop at your house. “You could come over and we could play one-on-one in my driveway,” you offer.

  Did that sound desperate? You hope not.

  “Well,” she says, slowly turning back around. “It would be nice to have someone to play with again. I haven’t had anyone to shoot hoops with since my brother left for the Navy two years ago.”

  You tell Ellie to come over Sunday afternoon, because the weather is supposed to be nice. You can’t believe this is really happening. You’ve had a crush on Ellie Burkoski since third grade! For the first time in months, you’re actually glad your dad will be working overtime on the weekend, and you know your mom won’t bother you, because she’ll probably be in her room all day. At least, that’s what you figure.

  On Sunday morning, you’re surprised to find your mom in the kitchen. She’s actually cooking something too.

  “Hey, mom, whatcha doin’?”

  “Good morning,” she smiles. Mom’s cooking and smiling. What’s going on here?

  “I was really proud of you the other night,” she continues. “That was a great play.”

  “Well, at least it went in, right?” You laugh off her compliment.

  “That was a tough decision you made. It was the right thing for your team, and you didn’t worry about what people would say. Honestly, honey, I think I can learn a thing or two from you.”

  You’re not exactly sure what she means, but if she’s smiling again, then you’re happy.

  When Ellie shows up, you grab your ball from the garage. You’re thinking you’ll go easy on her, but she blows you away immediately. The sweet, sometimes shy girl you like becomes an aggressive and very worthy opponent on the court. You’re impressed.

  “Hey, where’d you learn to play again?”

  “My older brother,” she replies. “You know,” she pauses a moment, “he taught me how to make an overhand free throw too.”

  Your face starts to feel a little hot. Maybe you do care what people think.

  “Your underhand toss was smart,” she continues. “But, if you want, I could show you what my brother taught me.”

  A girl helping you shoot? Not likely. But then, you stop to really consider it. Nope, your mom was right; you don’t care what people think, especially if Ellie can help you knock down that darn free throw.

  THE END

  You wish Jesse would either get aggressive or give up on lay-ups, and you’d like to say so, but you don’t want him thinking that you’re always telling him what to do. Uh-oh, here he goes again.

  You slide in there, ready for the rebound. Dan Connors is between you and the hoop, trying to box you out, but you fake right and slip around him on the other side. Now you’re ready on the weak side. Jesse shoots and it rolls across the back rim, right toward you. You get the ball, power it back up to the hoop for a bank shot. The Fixer strikes again.

  “Nice save,” Tommy calls out.

  Just then, a loud crash comes from the ceiling. You think it was something in the abandoned offices above the gym. You guys snuck in there once to investigate. There were old filing cabinets, typewriters, some cool old photos of rec center sports teams from back when your grandparents were kids, and tons and tons of broken gym equipment. You guys had a lot of fun playing with it that day, until Matty cut his arm on one of the old weight machines. You haven’t been up there since, but you figure that crash was some old exercise machine falling down.

  Then, the fire alarm goes off. For a minute, you all stop and stare at each other. Why would they do a fire drill with only a few people here?

  They wouldn’t. This is not a drill.

  Mrs. Hughes, the rec center nurse, runs into the gym.

  “Boys, come this way,” she shouts. “We need to evacuate the building, now!”

  It’s incredible. The whole top of the rec center is on fire, and there are two boys on the edge of the roof yelling for help. You recognize them as Jesse’s friends, Justin and Cal. A couple of firefighters climb up long ladders to rescue them. Others direct hoses at the top-floor windows, sending giant streams of water into the building, and you guys get to watch the whole thing. The police even interview you.

  On the way home, you try to think of a good way to talk with Jesse about his friends.

  “Those guys are kinda messed up,” you say. “I don’t want to tell you what to do, but … ”

  “Don’t even, Phil, they’re my friends,” he defends.

  “C’mon, dude, they tried to burn down the rec center.” You both can’t help but laugh a little; it’s crazy for him to stick up for them right now.

  “I guess they are kinda messed up,” he admits.

  “You know, if we hung out more,” you offer, “I could help you get more comfortable with contact.” He’s just nervous because he got swatted once.

  “I guess,” he says and shrugs, but you can tell that something has shifted.

  Who knows what’ll happen with Jesse, or even with your parents for that matter, but at least for today you got to be the fixer.

  THE END

  You can’t let Jesse get busted for having cigarettes. Your parents have really been hard on him lately, especially your dad, and this might be the final straw. He drives you crazy, but you don’t want to see him shipped off to some military school or something.

  “Cigarettes?!” Mrs. Doyle is astonished.

  “They’re mine,” you blurt out.

  “Give them to me,” Mrs. Doyle demands, and Jesse hands them over. “Were you trying to get him to smoke with you?” she asks you, sounding exasperated.

  “No, I … ” but you’re not sure what to say.

  She tells you it doesn’t matter. This is a huge policy violation, and she’s taking you to the principal’s office.

  You’ve never gone to the principal’s office before. You’re the good kid. The kid who gets good grades, the kid who teachers like, the basketball star. Maybe you didn’t think this through very well; you may have just thrown away all your dreams. Coach will kick you off the team for sure now, and what are your mom and dad going to do?

  Mr. Diggle is not in his office when you get there, so you have to just sit and wait for him in what everyone calls “the box of shame” – the area right outside his office. If you could think of a way to protect Jesse and save yourself you would, but you’re stuck. You can feel all the blood leaving your face. Your head feels light, and your stomach is in your throat. For a moment, the world spins, then everything goes black. You pass out.

  Next thing you know, you wake up on the floor, the right side of your face stinging
with pain. Coach is leaning over you.

  “You alright, Halverson?” he asks, helping you into a chair.

  You’re not really sure about your body, but you know everything else is wrecked.

  “I messed up, Coach.”

  “I know, kid, I heard.” He sounds so disappointed, and this stings worse than the pain in your face.

  Mrs. Doyle comes back in with Mr. Diggle and an ice pack, and you all go into the principal’s office. Coach stands with his back to you, staring out the window. Mrs. Doyle motions for you to sit down and takes the chair next to you. Mr. Diggle sizes you up while he cleans the lenses of his glasses, then presses them up the bridge of his nose with one chubby finger.

  “Mr. Halverson,” he says in his unnaturally squeaky voice, “it’s come to my attention that in addition to this incident with the cigarettes, you’ve been late for school, and your grades are slipping in some classes. What do you have to say for yourself, sir?”

  Aside from the bit about the cigarettes, the rest is all true. And what can you say? Sorry, my family’s a mess and so am I? You decide you won’t say anything; you’ll just take whatever comes.

  Just then, Jesse runs into the office. He’s got a strange look on his face.

  “They were mine,” he says. “The cigarettes were mine.”

  GO TO PAGE 39.

  You don’t want to talk about your messed up family with Coach. He wouldn’t understand. No one would. And now he’s looking at you in that way that seems like he’s reading your mind. It freaks you out a little bit.

  “It’s nothing, Coach,” you lie. “I just stayed up too late last night and overslept this morning.” You promise it won’t happen again.

  “You know how I feel about academics, Phil. A good athlete trains his body and his mind. He eats well, drinks lots of water, and … ”

  “ … he sleeps eight hours a night,” you finish his sentence for him. “I know, Coach. I’m really sorry.”

 

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