by Alan Janney
Thursday was a gorgeous, clear blue Los Angeles day. Making it even better, Katie attended morning practice. She reclined in the stands, tanning, and alternated between reading Pride and Prejudice and watching boring football drills. More than one of my teammates openly stared at her.
Last year at this time, I was memorizing plays as fast as I could, trying to hit receivers in stride, and hoping none of the big guys stepped on me. This year, the football field belonged to me. My teammates hustled faster when I glared at them, and disappointing me was far worse than disappointing the coach. This hierarchal change had developed organically; I was the strongest and fastest guy on the team (even when the disease was dormant), and I was the quarterback, and I was the one being discussed in the sports articles and blogs. I didn’t really like the changes and the responsibility, but I was growing numb to it.
After practice, we all huddled around Coach Garrett, a mustached Roman Praetorian Guard of a man. He chomped on his gum and smiled behind sunglasses.
“Good practice today, troops?” he asked and we groaned our answer. “The games are starting soon. We’ve got a good squad here, and we’ll be competitive.”
“No,” Samantha glared. “We won’t be competitive. We’ll be winning.”
“Gear, you’ve quickly become my favorite football player,” he barked. “And a giant pain in my ass.”
“Happy to help, Coach.”
“Thought you’d all like to know,” he continued, “that the Patrick Henry Dragons are favored to win the Division again this year, and also the state championship.”
Groans. Jeers. I smiled grimly and spun the football in my hands. I was going to wreck the Dragons’ plans.
“Another juicy tidbit,” he grinned, “is that our old pal Tank Ware is playing offense now too.”
“What?!” I shouted. Loudly. Everyone jumped.
Garrett nodded. “He told his coach he wants the ball. He’s going to be the Dragons’ starting running back.”
“This is a joke.”
“No joke, Jackson,” he said.
“I hate that guy!” I threw the football in disgust. Judging by the faces of my teammates, I threw it really far. I didn’t watch. “Freaking…ugh…stupid… stupid stupid Tank! What a self-absorbed glory hog. Jeez, I hate hate hate that big ugly cow.”
“I like your fire, Jackson,” Coach Garrett said. The team was staring at me with wide eyes.
“Coach,” I said suddenly. “I want to play linebacker.”
“Oh come on Jackson,” he chuckled.
“I’m serious. Dead serious. I want to hit Tank when he has the ball. Knock him out of his cleats.” I was grinding my teeth so hard the others might be able to hear it.
“Chase,” Samantha warned, “Don’t make this personal.”
“Besides. You’re the quarterback,” Coach said. “Too valuable to play two positions. You could get hurt.”
“I’m playing linebacker,” I snarled. Garrett was no longer smiling. “Or I’m quitting as quarterback.” The whole team stirred uneasily, except for Daniel Babington. He perked up. Daniel was the second-string quarterback.
“We’ll talk about it later, Jackson.” His voice had gained a stern edge. “But you don’t set the roster. I do. And you don’t threaten to quit on your teammates. Ever.”
He was right. I was steaming and I couldn’t think logically, but deep down I knew he was right. I just really really really hated Tank. I saw red when his name came up.
“Yes sir,” I mumbled and I stalked off. Selfish arrogant thick-headed freakish ill-mannered ugly Tank. He was a troll. A goblin. Simpleminded selfish conceited weak dumb duplicitous conniving…
Katie Lopez descended the bleachers and joined me as I stormed off the field. She was wearing blue shorts, a white shirt, and sandals with raised heels. “My favorite quarterback appears…agitated?”
“Your imbecile of a boyfriend is agitating,” I glowered.
“Oh?”
“He’s going to play running back this year,” I said. “Which means he’ll play offense and defense, and bully kids smaller and weaker than he is.”
“Isn’t that what good football players are supposed to do?” Her voice held notes of sadness and frustration and defiance, all at once. We stopped walking. For a moment, I truly felt sorry for her. She had chosen the wrong guy, and she knew it, and her inborn loyalty was torturing her. I reached for her hand, and she didn’t resist. She felt trapped, I could see it in her face, because she truly had feelings for Tank. Tank…
“He’s a villain. Evil. And ugly. And thanks for holding my hand. And I love you.” Her fingers sent tingles from my hand to my heart, which was pounding. Some of the football players were walking past us and openly admiring Katie.
She took a deep breath and beamed at me. “Say it again. I like it.”
“Break up with him. And I will say it forever.”
“How about,” she said, squeezing my hand, “I come over tonight?”
“…Go on.”
“And cook for you. And we can talk after.”
“I accept.”
“Count me in,” Gear announced, strolling past us, cleats crunching on the gravel. She looked especially militant in her uniform. “I’d kill for Mexican food.”
Katie blinked a few times. “Samantha, will you be joining us?”
“I live there now. Chase makes me. Did you notice how good his butt looks in his football uniform?”
“Kicker,” I said. “Shut up. Or you’ll be homeless again.”
We were interrupted by a stranger. Some guy was coming our way, and laughing. Even I could tell he might be the most handsome man alive. He had longish blond hair combed back, a strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, curvy lips, the whole thing. “There she is! There’s my girl.” He had an accent; he pronounced it me gull.
Katie gasped softly. I might have too. He was a beautiful human being.
Samantha groaned. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“What? You’re not happy to see me?” the man grinned. He had dimples too. I wanted to hate him but he was too attractive. He wore jeans, cowboy boots, and a leather jacket. “I flew all the way from Down Under to find you.”
“Your accent,” Katie said. “It’s Australian.”
“Right you are, miss. Crikey, what a beauty you are.”
“Go back,” Samantha said, shoving her pointer finger into his chest. “Go back immediately.”
He ignored the finger and wrapped her up in a hug. Samantha resisted, to no avail. “No way,” he smiled. “You’re even prettier than I remember.” Rememba!
“Shut. Up,” she growled.
“Besides,” the guy continued. “Carter’d be cranky if I did.”
“Carter?” I asked. The man noticed me for the first time, and nodded. “You know Carter? The Carter? Grumpy old man Carter?”
“I do,” he said, and stuck out his hand. “I’m Mitch. Good onya!”
“I’m Chase,” I said, shoving my hand into his. Another Infected!! “Wow, it’s…wow, this is…It’s great to meet you.”
“Chase?” he laughed. “The Chase? Holy doley! This a real honor,” he said, pronouncing it reel onna. “Finally get to meet the infamous Ou-”
Samantha threw her elbow hard into his stomach and said in a low voice, “Listen, Croc, go back to Australia. Right now. No one here is infamous.”
“Ow, woman,” he smiled, rubbing his side. “That hurt.”
“Good.”
Katie asked, “How do you two know each other?”
“Samantha here is my fiancé!” Mitch/Croc grinned.
“What?”
“No I am not,” she bit off the words. “I said No, Croc. Twice.” Football players trudging past were giving us curious looks.
“You said No??” Katie appeared unable to comprehend this. “Why…how…why?”
“Besides, I’m still in high school.” Samantha spoke through clenched teeth. “Remember?”
&
nbsp; Mitch said, “Of course I remember. I am too! I just enrolled here.”
“Oh no,” Samantha said. She looked unsteady on her feet. “Croc. Please no. Tell me you didn’t.”
“Ah yes, love. I’m about to be a senior!”
Katie protested, “No way. There is no way you’re in high school. You’re at least twenty-five.”
I couldn’t believe it. Another Infected! And he was nice!? Weren’t all Infected supposed to be jerks?
“My birth certificate says I’m eighteen,” Mitch said proudly. “I can show it to you; just got it in the mail. The receptionist couldn’t believe it either. Suppose I just have one of those faces. And YOU!” he grinned and grabbed me by both ears. “You beautiful man, I’m glad to meet you.”
“Not as glad as I am,” I said. “We need the help.”
“Help?” Katie asked. “With what? The football team?”
“The football team?” Mitch asked. He stepped back and looked Samantha and I up and down, inspecting our uniforms. “You two play American football.”
“Croc,” Samantha growled, “No.”
“I’ll play too! Sign me up.”
“No no no!”
“Samantha girl,” he smiled, and he brushed some of the hair out of her face. “Cheer up! It’ll be aces. Where are you staying?”
“None of your business.”
I said, “She’s staying with me.”
Samantha sighed and rolled her eyes. She was frustrated to the point of tears.
Croc grinned. “With you? But you’re holding hands with the exotic sheila,” he said and he indicated Katie.
“Croc,” Samantha said, completely exasperated. “They aren’t together. She’s got a boyfriend. Some other guy.”
“I could tell that immediately. But why is she holding his hand?”
“Because he loves her and she’s conflicted. Stop asking questions.”
He examined all of us curiously and said, “Wow. What a confusing scrum.”
“Come with me,” she said, grabbing him by the jacket and hauling him away. “We need to talk.”
I watched them go and said, “This is so cool.”
Katie beamed. “He called me exotic.”
* * *
Katie was already in my kitchen when I returned home from quarterback camp. The house smelled like curry chicken and sizzling peppers. She handed me a sweet tea and said, “Change your shirt. You’re disgusting.”
“You look a lot better in that apron than my dad does,” I observed.
“I’m glad you noticed.”
“Are you wearing tighter clothes now? Or do you just fill them out better than you used to?”
“Hey!” she laughed. “You can not ask me that.”
“You’re still very trim,” I said, and her face turned red as I examined her. “But now you’ve got these great curves…”
“Chase!” she cried and she flung a red pepper at me. I sat down and we talked.
Katie was lined up to be one of our valedictorians, and her schedule this coming semester was brutal. We didn’t have any classes together, which would make the next few months less enjoyable, but once again our lunch periods matched, along with Cory and Lee.
Just for fun I asked her if the Outlaw had visited, and she glowered at me. The Outlaw had visited her (twice) at the beginning of the calendar year, a fact she revealed only after growing irritated with the man in the mask. She hadn’t heard from the Outlaw since he rescued her in March and she was peeved.
I am the Outlaw. And I would tell her soon. I hadn’t told her in the past because I didn’t think she’d believe me and because Tank had threatened to hurt her if I blabbed.
Tank woke up from his coma a different man. He’d always been intense and prone to anger, but now he bordered on being unhinged. He was never violent towards Katie, and in fact seemed more deeply attached to her than ever, or so she told me. I pretended to vomit. And I almost did authentically. But now Tank would go through periods of rage and dementia, which the doctors said would eventually go away. But I knew otherwise; Tank was Infected, just like me, and the disease had permanently altered him.
“He hates you, Chase,” she said at one point. She was cooking tortillas in the frying pan and she stopped momentarily. “I mean…really hates you.”
“Do you know why?”
She shook her head and said, “No. Tank is very proud, though. He gets that from his parents. Everyone is beneath him. I think maybe it’s because he’s not threatened by anyone, except you.”
“That makes sense.”
“You offend his superiority.”
I asked, “Do you enjoy this characteristic of his? You used to value kindness, not arrogance.”
“Tank is very charismatic. He’s engaging and fascinating, and his pride is part of that.”
“How can you date someone that hates me?” I asked. “I’m so lovable.”
Katie didn’t answer but she didn’t have to. I knew. She started dating him while I was dating Hannah, a colossal mistake on my part. She was with Tank because he had pursued her in a way that I hadn’t. But I was determined to never make that mistake again.
“Do you ever think about Hannah?” she asked a moment later.
“I just was, actually.”
“It’s been five months since she died,” she said, the frying pan forgotten. “And I’m still not over it. Even though we weren’t great friends.”
“Yeah but you were there,” I said. “You saw it. That’s one of those things that gets inside us and makes us who we are. Permanently.”
“Sometimes I think it doesn’t seem fair, that I made it out and she didn’t. You know? I’m sure her parents feel that way.”
“No they don’t,” I objected. In my mind’s eye I could see the whole thing in startling clarity. During that awful night, Katie had been brave and tried to survive, while Hannah waited in her car and complained. A lot of people freeze in times of danger; not Katie. She’d been amazing. “I spoke with them several times. They know. Hannah chose to wait in a lake of gasoline. You didn’t.”
“It’s not my fault,” she said, wiping her eyes and offering me a half smile. “I know that. I tell myself that several times a day. It wasn’t my fault. But still…”
Samantha returned from wherever it was Samantha always went. I wanted to ask her a million questions about Croc but I couldn’t because Katie was with us. Then Dad came in and we all ate together. Dad and I usually eat at the television but this was better. We talked and laughed like a family is supposed to. Even Samantha enjoyed herself.
For dessert, Katie laid chocolate cake on the table. Samantha and I ate it all. Infected are drawn to chocolate. I don’t know why.
Later that night, Katie and I were alone on the couch. We were under the same blanket and she was leaning against me. The lights were off and the Dodgers were beating the Braves on the television. I must have fallen asleep because I didn’t remember Samantha and Dad leaving.
“We’re alone,” I observed quietly. She tilted her head back so she could look up at me. Her thick brown hair tickled my neck.
“Yes,” she said. The light from the television was suspended in her eyes.
“As it should be.”
She smiled. “Remember when we were just little kids?”
“That was a lifetime ago.”
“Do you still love me?” she whispered.
“Always.”
“Why? I’m dating your arch rival.”
“I love you in spite of your glaring faults.”
“Hey,” she snickered and pinched me. “But. But what if everything changes?”
“What do you mean?”
“High school girls are lonely. Even me. We just are,” she said. Her hand under the blanket was stroking my leg. “A lot of my world is built around you. What if…all this changes…and we aren’t friends anymore? I would have nothing.”
“As long as I live, I will be at least your friend.”
“Y
ou don’t know that.”
“Think about it,” I smiled. “You’re dating someone that would honestly kill me if he had the chance. What other more terrible thing could you do? How could you drive me away?”
She smiled. Her lips were very close to mine.
“You shouldn’t be with him,” I said. “You have to know that.”
“Chase Jackson. Are you going to pretend,” she asked, “that you’ve never been conflicted romantically? About whom to date?”
Very clear memories surfaced. Of me. Being in love with Katie last fall. But dating Hannah. While sneaking off to Natalie North rendezvous. I was in no position to judge. “I will not pretend that.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Want to know a secret?” she asked, a twinkle in her eyes.
“Please.”
“I’m jealous of Samantha.” Her cheeks colored a little. “She gets to sleep here and I don’t.”
“That’s cute.”
“I’m so jealous I can barely speak to her. Even though I really like Samantha.”
“Would you like to sleep over too?” I winked.
“Yes. But. Mamá would kill me. And I have a boyfriend.”
“What a confusing scrum we have.”
Chapter Six
Tuesday, August 25. 2018
School began. I was a senior now and the pristine hallways were full of tiny people staring at me. Somehow, due to the mysterious forces at work in high schools, I’d become popular. People I never met were my friends, which was surreal but enjoyable. Excitement was already building for Friday’s football game and even the principals wanted a high-five.
Both Samantha and Mitch were in my first period Science class. I stared them down suspiciously. Mitch (or Croc) was creating mayhem wherever he went, just by smiling. Two girls got into an actual fistfight over being his lab partner! Even the teacher shamelessly adored him. Samantha fumed.
