Rumors

by Phil M. Williams

  Gwen raised her eyebrows.

  “I benched him. Jamar’s starting this week, and, if he plays like I think he will, Shane’ll never see the field again.”

  “Wow. Does Janet know?”

  “She talked to me this morning. Tried to talk me into not making the change. She told me that she’s a powerful enemy.”

  “I’ve heard that. I’d be careful if I were you.”

  “I can handle Janet. I won’t let a parent influence who plays and who doesn’t. I don’t care who they are. Sports are one of the last great meritocracies in this country.”

  “I still think something needs to be done about Shane. I think there might’ve been a hazing incident in the football locker room with Caleb Miles.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  Gwen gestured to the stack of essays on her desk. “From Caleb’s personal narrative. He didn’t name names, but I’m pretty sure Shane was involved and maybe Lance Osborn.”

  Rick blew out a breath. “Makes sense. Caleb quit on Friday. I’m embarrassed to say that I didn’t even notice until Jamar told me today. Apparently, Caleb was in the locker room before the game but didn’t come out for warm-ups. He just left. And he wasn’t at practice today.”

  “Or school. The office told me that his mom called and said he was sick.”

  “I’d like to know all the details, but I’m running on fumes. You mind if I go grab my dinner real quick? Then we can talk about it.”

  “Of course.”

  “You gonna be here for another thirty minutes?”

  Gwen gestured to the stack of essays on her desk. “At least another hour.”

  “You sure you don’t want something from Subway? I deliver.”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Write down your order. If you don’t, I can guarantee I’ll get it wrong.”

  Gwen wrote her order on a sticky note—six-inch sub, apples, NO chips, wheat bread, turkey, provolone, lettuce, tomato, banana peppers, little bit of mayo.

  Rick glanced at the note. “No drink?”

  “I have water.” Gwen pointed to the water bottle on her desk.

  Rick smiled, his teeth white and straight. “No cookie?”

  “I’m trying to be good.”

  “That’s no fun.”

  Rick left, and Gwen continued to work, her stomach rumbling at the thought of food. Rick returned about twenty minutes later with two plastic bags and a drink.

  He set her sub on her desk. “I bought an extra cookie if you want one.”

  “Trying to fatten me up?”

  “You look like you’ve had a long day.”

  Gwen frowned. “I look that bad, huh?”

  “No, sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

  “It’s fine. How much do I owe you?” Gwen reached for her purse.

  “My treat.”

  “That’s really nice of you. Thank you,” Gwen said, extracting her sub from the tubelike plastic bag.

  “You’re welcome.” Rick moved a student desk near Gwen and sat down.

  They ate their sandwiches, Gwen devouring her sub, not realizing how hungry she was.

  “I’d like to read the essay that Caleb wrote,” Rick asked between bites.

  Gwen wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I don’t have it. Janet does, but I can tell you the gist of what happened.”

  Rick nodded, his mouth full.

  “It happened in the locker room. Caleb didn’t use any names except for his own, but he talked about being bullied for looking at someone’s private parts. The bullying was very aggressive and homophobic. They called him a faggot. Someone grabbed Caleb and forced him to look at a boy’s crotch. I think Caleb may be gay. I think he’s struggling with his sexual preference.”

  “This town isn’t exactly open-minded about homosexuality. Unfortunately, I doubt my football team is either.”

  Gwen stared at Rick, her head cocked. “I’m surprised you’d say that. I expected excuses for homophobia.”

  “Why? Because I’m a big dumb football coach?”

  “No, of course not. I’m sorry. I—”

  “I’m joking. It takes a lot more than that to offend me. Any other details from the incident?” Rick took a big bite of his sandwich.

  “Caleb mentioned five or six kids laughing and heckling. Again, no names. Caleb wrote that Flash Gordon intervened and stopped the bullying. Do you know who Flash Gordon might be?”

  Rick swallowed a bit of his sandwich and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Probably Jamar. He’s lightning fast, and I think he and Caleb are friends. Did he have nicknames for any of the bullies?”

  “The boy he looked at, he called Big Man on Campus. The boy who forced him to look, he called Second in Command.”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say that’s Shane and Lance.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll talk to Caleb and the other kids. Try to get to the bottom of this.” Rick paused for a moment. “You think Caleb could be making it up?”

  “Anything’s possible, but I think he’s telling the truth.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. If Shane and Lance are the ringleaders, this could get ugly. We already know what Shane’s mother’s like, and Lance’s dad is the president of the school board. This could get real political.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Caleb and Self-Hatred

  Caleb’s stomach churned as Ms. Townsend handed out their corrected personal narratives. He worried that he’d gone too far, that he’d shared too much of himself. She’ll probably make me go to Mrs. Baumgartner. Ms. Townsend placed the essays facedown as she walked up and down the rows.

  “I was so impressed with your personal narratives,” Ms. Townsend said. “Everyone did such an outstanding job improving their first drafts with their revisions and the line edits. I was really touched by your writing. I laughed. I cried. I rooted for the protagonists, and I rooted against the antagonists in your life stories. Just fantastic.” Ms. Townsend finished returning the essays, except for Caleb’s. Instead, she bent toward him, situated at the desk in the front corner, and whispered, “Caleb, honey, will you stay after class? I need to talk to you.”

  The bell rang. Everyone collected their belongings and headed for the exit. On the way out, students compared their grades. Lance made fun of Shane’s C+, calling him a dumbass, Shane pushing him playfully in response, reminding him of his own C+. Aaron Fuller bragged about his A.

  “Check this out, bro,” Aaron said, showing his essay to his older brother, Drew.

  Caleb expected Drew to make fun of Aaron, but Drew simply said, “Nice job, bro.”

  As the classroom emptied, Caleb trudged toward Ms. Townsend. She stood in front of her desk, wearing a flowing dress and a white cardigan, her brown hair in a loose ponytail.

  “Are you feeling better? I heard you were sick,” Ms. Townsend said.

  Caleb looked away for a moment. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about your personal narrative.”

  Caleb blushed.

  “I gave you an A+. It was the best paper out of all my classes. I was very impressed. You have a real talent for writing.”

  Caleb nodded, his head tilted down. “Thanks.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t return it today. Principal Wilcox still has it.”

  Caleb felt like throwing up.

  “I had to report it. I’m worried about you. The incident in the locker room must’ve been awfully traumatic. Are you okay?”

  “It never happened. I was writing fiction.” Caleb looked up. “I know we were supposed to write something real, but my life’s boring, so I made it up.”

  Ms. Townsend nodded. “Well, you fooled me. It sounded very real.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Caleb crossed his arms over his chest. “I would know if it was real or not.”

  “The character in the story was suicidal. Do you ever have any suicidal thoughts?”


  He frowned. “No. And the character wasn’t suicidal. He’s just angry.”

  “Are you angry?”

  Caleb shrugged. I never should’ve written that stupid essay. “I don’t have anything to be angry about. Can I go?”

  “Did Principal Wilcox talk to you?”

  “No.”

  “What about Mrs. Baumgartner?”

  Shit. I really hope I don’t have to talk to the counselor. “I talked to her this morning.”

  “That’s good. If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

  * * *

  Caleb flipped off his light, thinking about how he wished taking his life would be that easy. If I could turn off my life like a light switch, I would’ve done it a long time ago. He lay in his bed, the comforter wrapped around him like a cocoon. He shut his eyes, thinking about Shane … naked. Caleb was aroused. He blinked, tears slipping down his face. They’re right. You are a fucking faggot. Just fucking do it. Caleb grabbed his phone from his bedside table. He took off one of his socks and put it over his erection. He stroked his penis, watching two men have oral, then anal sex on his phone. In that order. The other way grossed him out. The pleasure ended with his orgasm, quickly replaced by shame. He tossed the soiled sock in his dirty clothes pile, making sure to cover it with a shirt. Not that anyone would see it because Caleb did his own laundry.

  He thought about Madison as he climbed back into bed. Does she know? Does she suspect? She’s always acting like it’s no big deal. Like she’s so liberal and open-minded. But she’s not the one who feels this way. It’s easy for her to act like it’s perfectly normal.

  Madison had tried to kiss him once, but Caleb had pulled away and said, “I don’t wanna ruin our friendship.” What a bunch of bullshit. Madison had stormed from his room, but she’d gotten over it, and they went back to being friends, but they’d never talked about it.

  He’d needed her now more than ever, but she wasn’t even returning his texts. She’d been MIA through the weekend and into Monday. Caleb grabbed his phone from the bedside table and tapped Madison.

  She picked up on the fifth ring. “I’m sorry I haven’t returned your texts,” Madison said in lieu of a greeting.

  “Where have you been?” Caleb asked, laying on his back.

  “I’m sorry. I just got my texts like five minutes ago. My friend Tanner and I decided to go on a technology fast. It was so eye-opening. I didn’t realize how much technology’s frying my brain. You really oughta try it. We could do it together, if you want.”

  “Who’s Tanner?”

  “He’s my friend.” She paused for a moment. “I actually think he might be my boyfriend. We kissed, and we’ve been hanging out a lot. We haven’t, like, labeled it yet though. I’m so excited. I think you’d really like him.”

  Caleb sighed. “He sounds cool.”

  “You’d really like him.”

  “You said that.”

  “Well, you would.”

  An awkward silence followed.

  “Your texts said you needed to talk,” Madison said. “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t take this place anymore.”

  “Did you talk to the counselor—”

  “I don’t wanna talk to the counselor. I wanna talk to you.”

  “Okay. I’m listening.”

  “It’s really bad here. Like way worse than before.”

  “What happened?”

  “It just fucking sucks. You know how it is. People are so fucking stupid around here. I wish a fucking nuclear blast would hit this place and destroy everyone and everything in it.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do. One hundred percent, I do.”

  “If you put negativity out into the world, that’s what you’ll get back—”

  “I really don’t wanna hear your New Age California hippy bullshit.”

  “I’m trying to be kind to you, Caleb. You’re not making it easy.”

  “By not responding to my texts for four days? Or even telling me that you’re on some sort of fucking phone fast?”

  “I said I was sorry. It’s a struggle for me too, you know?”

  “Sounds rough. You love your new friends, new school, new boyfriend. Everything got better for you when you left, but everything got worse for me, and nobody gives a fuck.”

  “That’s not true. I do care, but I can’t pretend to be miserable with you because you want someone to hate the world with you. I’m trying not to be that girl anymore.”

  “I liked you better before.”

  “Don’t be an asshole.”

  “Tanner sounds like a douchebag.” Caleb disconnected the call and powered off his phone.

  CHAPTER 35

  Rick and the Saboteur

  Rick knocked on Lewis Phelps’s classroom door. Through the door window, he saw the diminutive teacher lecturing at the head of the class. Lewis turned toward the knock and waved Rick inside.

  Rick stepped into the classroom. “I’m sorry to interrupt your class, Mr. Phelps. I need to talk to Caleb for a minute.”

  “By all means, Mr. Barnett.” Lewis motioned to Caleb, sitting in the front row.

  Caleb followed Rick into the empty hallway without a word, his face expressionless. They stood next to a wall of lockers.

  “I’m disappointed that you quit football,” Rick said.

  “I’m surprised you even noticed.”

  “Everyone’s an important part of the team.”

  Caleb smirked. “Really? How long would it take for you to talk to Drew or Lance if they didn’t show up for a game? I doubt it would be five days after the fact.”

  “You’re right, Caleb. I do pay more attention to the varsity guys. I’m sorry.” Rick paused for a moment. “Why did you quit?”

  “I don’t like football anymore. It’s not fun.”

  “Did something happen to you?”

  Caleb shrugged. “No. I suck at football, and it’s not fun to do things you suck at.”

  “I don’t think that’s true. You were one of our best receivers on the freshman team. If you’d get in the weight room, do the speed training, work on your routes and your hands, there’s no reason you can’t play by the time you’re a senior.”

  Caleb flipped his brown hair from his eyes. “I don’t wanna play anymore.”

  “Did something happen in the locker room?”

  “No.”

  “Was anybody bullying you?”

  Caleb looked away for a split second. “No.”

  “You sure?”

  “Can I go back to class?”

  * * *

  The first-string offense practiced against the second-string defense. Shane sulked on the sideline as Jamar took the first-string reps at quarterback. Coach Bob Schneider gave the play to Jamar, who relayed it to the huddle.

  In the huddle, Lance said, “You can’t run it like that.”

  “That’s what Coach said,” Jamar replied.

  “Run the goddamn play!” Coach Schneider said.

  The offense ran the play. Jamar rolled to the right, but his protection went left. Jamar was swarmed by three defenders, who stopped before sacking him, obeying the rule not to hit the starting quarterback. Coach Schneider blew the whistle and stalked to Jamar.

  “What the hell are you doing? That was 371 L Dump. Why the hell are you rollin’ right? Don’t you know your left from your right?”

  “You said 371 R,” Jamar replied.

  “You think I don’t know what I said?”

  Jamar dipped his head. “No, sir.”

  “Then run it again.”

  Rick walked over to Bob Schneider as the offense lined up. “You all right?”

  Bob shook his head, his bearded face twisted in a frown. “He’s not ready.”

  “Give him a chance. He’ll get it.”

  “He doesn’t even know his fuckin’ left from his right. This is gonna be a disaster. We gotta put Shane back in.”

  Rick didn’t reply, turning f
rom Bob to the play. Jamar rolled left this time, set his feet, and fired a bomb, hitting Lance on the backside post. Touchdown.

  CHAPTER 36

  Janet Digs Dirt

  “I did the best I could,” Coach Bob Schneider said, sitting across from Janet.

  Janet sat, her arms folded neatly on the desktop. “I don’t care that you did your best. I care that my son’s not starting tonight.”

  “I can fix this.”

  “By tonight?”

  “I can call shitty plays for Jamar. Rick’ll be forced to bench him. Jamar won’t make it to halftime.”

  “And if that doesn’t work?”

  Bob shrugged his bulky shoulders. “I’ll figure out somethin’ else.”

  Janet pursed her lips. “I think we need to be a bit more proactive. The problem isn’t Jamar. The problem is Rick.”

  Bob nodded in agreement. “Maybe you could fire him?”

  I didn’t think Bob had it in him. “We’d have to have cause. We can’t go around firing people for no reason. He’d have to do something stupid”—Janet glared at Bob—“like looking at porn on his school computer.”

  Bob blushed.

  “You know him pretty well, don’t you?” Janet asked. “Are there any skeletons we can dig up?”

  “I don’t know. We don’t really talk about much except football.”

  “You might want to think about it for a minute. Your career depends on it.”

  Bob stroked his bushy beard, the wheels turning in his head. “One thing happened that was weird.”

  “Go on.”

  “Last Friday, after the Lancaster game, Rick and I left the locker room together. It was late. Everyone was gone, except, when we got to the parkin’ lot, Ashlee Miles was leanin’ on Rick’s truck. She was lookin’ at him like they had somethin’ goin’ on.”

  Janet nodded. “Did she get into his truck with him?”

  “Probably. I don’t know. I didn’t see. They were talkin’ when I drove away.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Gwen and Her Star Students

  The bell rang; the students shuffled out. Gwen walked toward Caleb, hoping to have another chat, but he was gone in a flash. Jamar approached with a big grin, his thin mustache spread across his upper lip. He wore jeans and his white-and-red number two jersey. Jamar was slender, with well-defined muscles. His ears stuck out, accentuated by his short haircut. He had a strong chin, high cheekbones, and clear caramel-colored skin. A nice face to go along with smarts and athletic talent.