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Page 5

by N. J. Corbo


  “So what’s the deal, Faklaw?” Is she your girl or what?” Chuck wants to know.

  “I dunno,” you say, wishing he would just back off. Then he surprises you.

  “You want her to be, don’t you?” he asks, sounding sympathetic.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” you admit.

  “Well, I’m not gonna get in your way, dude. There are plenty of pretty girls around.”

  Chuck shrugs his shoulders and turns away. You can’t believe it. The only problem now is, what if Autumn actually does like Chuck? Well, you can’t worry about that tonight. Who she does or doesn’t like will have to be tomorrow’s problem.

  THE END

  You want to do all you can to impress the scout, and your precision flip throw is a money maker, because you can cover distance and hit your mark. Unfortunately, your wrist is really sore from twisting it. You don’t care though – you want to show the scout everything you’ve got. You’ll show him this, then wow him with your offensive moves.

  You grab the ball and move about 15 feet from the touch line. You scan the field. Darby’s open. You line up, burst forward about three steps, hurling yourself upside-down. You plant the ball and flip your legs up over your head. Normally, this is when your feet would hit the ground, you’d release the ball, and it would shoot to your mark. Not today though.

  When you plant the ball, your injured wrist buckles. You hear something snap, and pain shoots through your arm. The next thing you know, you’re on the ground next to the ball and Coach Oliver is running over to you. They get you ice to put on it, but he says you’re going to need an X-ray; he thinks your wrist is probably broken.

  “That’s a real bummer, number 7,” the Boys’ National Team scout says. You’re in too much pain to respond. Your arm is throbbing; your face feels hot with pain and frustration. You’re sweating and panting, barely holding it together. “Listen,” he continues, “I didn’t get to see very much today, but your old coach from Weston speaks very highly of you. Here’s my card. Give me a call.” You just nod. The pain is so much that you can’t even enjoy this moment of possibility.

  It feels like everything is a mess. Autumn is angry, your wrist is probably broken, and now you’ll be out of play for who knows how long. You wish you could hit the reset button – make different choices. This isn’t how it was supposed to turn out.

  THE END

  Chuck’s had quite a few beers, but he seems normal. Maybe just a little louder than usual. You know drinking and driving is stupid, but he must know when he’s had too much. He’s a senior, after all. You ask him to take you to Bowie’s house.

  You all pile into Chuck’s car. The guys are all yelling and messing around. At first it seems fun, but then Chuck starts paying less attention to the road. No, this is definitely not fun. Unlike them, you’re not feeling anything from the beer – you drank one beer over the course of an hour, in little sips, so they wouldn’t offer you another – and now you’re stuck.

  Suddenly, the car starts to veer off into the other lane. You’re sitting in the back, but you spring forward, grab the wheel, and yank it to the right before the car goes into oncoming traffic. You hear the sound of a horn blaring. You feel your body tossed to the right. Now you’re upside down. There’s screaming.

  The car has rolled off the road into a ditch. When it stops, almost everyone is silent. You’re all in shock. Just one person is still screaming. Davis. He must have had his hand out the window. It looks like hamburger meat and there’s blood everywhere. You look frantically for a way to get out. You feel like you’re going to be sick.

  “Oh man,” Chuck yells. “Look at Davis’ hand. That’s so messed up. Oh man, what are we gonna do?”

  “We gotta get out of this car,” you hear Darby say, and somehow you all stumble out.

  A man is walking toward you from the road. He’s asking if everyone is alright. Davis is still howling, and you don’t know about anyone else, because you’re too busy throwing up.

  Needless to say, you do not make it to Bowie’s birthday dinner. Instead, you spend the night being reprimanded by police, your coach, and your parents. Everyone keeps saying the same thing to all of you: Why would you make that choice? You honestly don’t know.

  Coach Oliver suspends all of you for drinking, and you can’t believe your high school soccer career has been put on hold as quickly as it began.

  The next day, you call Coach Duncan. He listens silently as you recall the whole horrible event. There’s disappointment and concern in his voice, but he offers to let you train with Weston, so that you don’t lose your edge.

  “Every choice you make has consequences,” he says. “Each one leads to a certain outcome. There are no guarantees, and we can’t predict the future, but what we can do is listen to our instincts. You’ve got a compass inside you, Kev, and it’ll point you in the right direction, but you choose whether to follow it or try to do things your own way.”

  You feel like your compass may be broken, but you’re determined to get back on track.

  THE END

  There’s no way you’re getting in a car with someone who’s been drinking. Chuck seems okay, but he’s definitely drunk. And you’ve seen enough of those terrifying ads on TV to scare you away from ever mixing alcohol and driving.

  “Thanks anyway, but my sister’s on her way to get me,” you lie.

  You’ve been at the field for about 45 minutes, and it will probably take you about 15 or 20 minutes to get to Bowie’s house. You take off at a jog, hoping to get there before they cut the cake.

  Dinner is over, but you’re not surprised by that. They were waiting to cut the cake though, so you apologize to everyone, especially Bowie.

  You and Bowie sit on the couch with your cake.

  “Hey, man, I love that toolbox you made me,” he says. Luckily, Sam remembered to drop it off.

  “Yeah,” you say, excited. “I built it with my grandparents. I’m so glad you like it. Now you won’t have to search for years when you need a tool.”

  “Totally,” he agrees. “Did you carve the handle? It’s awesome.”

  You did, and you’re proud to admit it. You spent a lot of time making Bowie’s toolbox. He is one of your best friends after all.

  “Hey, where were you anyway?” he asks.

  “Some of the seniors asked me to celebrate the win with them. I didn’t think we’d be so long though. I’m really sorry, Bowie man.”

  “It’s okay, but were you drinking beer?” he asks, leaning in closer to your face.

  “Uh, kinda,” you say, backing away. “I had one.”

  “Why would you do that?” he asks, sounding annoyed. “That’s really not smart.”

  After a few minutes of silence, Bowie gets up from the couch and goes to sit by Autumn. She’s still not speaking to you either. This is perfect. Now both your best friends are mad at you.

  You sit there, slowly eating your cake and wondering how you made such a mess of things, and trying to figure out how you can fix it.

  What seems like a million years later, since all you’ve been doing is talking with Bowie’s mom and twiddling your thumbs, your mom comes to pick you up. She doesn’t look like herself though. Something’s wrong. She’s not smiling. Also, she kind of rushes you out of the house, which is not like her at all, though right now, you’re not complaining. Once you’re outside, she grabs you by the shoulders.

  “Kevin,” she says in an unnaturally serious voice. “Honey, I have to tell you something, but I’m right here for you, okay?”

  “Mom, you’re kind of freaking me out,” you say. She doesn’t let go.

  “Sweetie,” she continues, “there’s been an accident.”

  “What kind of accident?” You’re really freaking out now.

  “It was a group of older boys from the soccer team,” she says.

  As what she’s saying sinks in, you feel like your legs might give out from under you.

  “Kevin, are you okay?” she asks, as you rea
lize she’s not just holding onto you anymore, but holding you up. You nod and try to steady yourself.

  She tells you they were drinking, which of course you already knew. She tells you they swerved into oncoming traffic, and lastly, she tells you one of them is in critical condition. She doesn’t know which boy it is, but she knows they were all hurt badly.

  Every time you start to think about how you could have been in that car, your legs wobble beneath you. What would have happened if you’d gone with them? You might be the one in critical condition . . . or worse.

  Your mind flickers to Bowie and Autumn. You realize how lucky you are – if you’d been in that car . . . Well, you’d much rather have them mad at you than never see them again. You may have really screwed up in some ways, and your friendships may be a mess right now, but at least you can still change how things turn out.

  THE END

  It’s confusing enough having feelings for your best friend, but now you have to be jealous too? This is so completely unfair. Chuck Grady is a senior for crying out loud. How are you supposed to compete with that? If she likes him, you don’t stand a chance. But, what if you can get him to stop liking her?

  It would be great if you could just walk up to him and say, “Hey, Chuck, how ‘bout you back off my girl?” But then you might get your face punched. No, you need a way to ensure he won’t be interested in her anymore.

  The next day in school, you see Chuck in the hall between classes and go up to him.

  “Hey, Chuck,” you say, somewhat nervously. “Uh, listen, man.” You try to sound more confident. “There’s something I’ve gotta tell you.”

  “Okay, kid,” he says. “I’m listening. What’s up?”

  “Well, you know that girl you were talking with after practice yesterday?”

  “Sure,” he says. “Autumn – she’s a cutie.”

  “Yeah, her,” you say. “Well, there’s something you should know about her before you go thinking she’d be a good prom date or whatever.”

  “What’s that?” he wants to know.

  “Well,” you say, considering your words very carefully, “you see, she’s kind of a weirdo. She doesn’t really have any friends. I mean, I only hang out with her because I feel sorry for her. And I’ve even seen her pick her nose,” you add for good measure. Now he will definitely not want to be with her.

  As far as you can tell, it’s worked, because he scrunches his face up and says, “Ewww!” Then he shakes his head and walks away. You feel pretty proud of your plan, certain that Chuck will leave Autumn alone, giving you time to figure out how to tell her that you like her. Maybe you should tell Bowie first and get his reaction. You’ll see how you feel when you meet them for lunch.

  “What is wrong with you?!” Autumn yells in your face as soon as you walk up to her.

  “What?” you say, completely confused.

  “What would make you say those things about me?” she asks, tears growing in her eyes. “I thought you were my best friend.”

  “I . . . ” you start, but have no idea what to say.

  “Did you think Chuck would think you were cool?” she asks. “Because he doesn’t. He’s actually a nice guy, but you’re a jerk!”

  Autumn storms off, leaving you there to wonder exactly what went wrong with your plan. Clearly, Chuck told her what you said. You thought he would leave her alone, but you were wrong. The whole thing has backfired. She hates you, and now Chuck thinks you’re an idiot. You may end up getting your face punched after all. This is just great.

  You spend the rest of the day avoiding Autumn and feeling horrible. You can’t believe how badly your plan failed and how wrecked things are with her. You have no hope of a girlfriend, and you’re not sure you even have a friend anymore. You’re also not sure what you’ll find at practice, but luckily, Chuck doesn’t even say a thing. At one point, he catches your eye and just shakes his head disapprovingly at you, but that’s all you get. At least he doesn’t beat you up.

  Right after practice, a junior named Evan comes up and pulls you aside. He’s been really kind to you. So far, he’s one of the only people who hasn’t called you “kid” the whole time.

  “I’ve got a question for you, Faklaw,” he says. “I’ve seen how well you control the ball. It seems like you can move it anywhere you want, and I was wondering if you could help me with that. Only thing is,” he continues, “it would need to be on the down-low, because I don’t want the guys to know that I’m taking lessons from a freshman.”

  You’re definitely flattered that an upperclassman would ask for your help, but you’re not sure what to do.

  GO TO PAGE 45. It would be nice to have a friend on the team, and it’s cool that Evan appreciates your skills. Maybe this will help you keep your mind off Autumn too. You say yes.

  GO TO PAGE 30. You’re glad that Evan appreciates your skills, but you need to focus on your own game. You apologize and say no.

 

 

 


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