Fantasy Football

by Jennifer LoGalbo

  “Save some for others,” a voice said from behind me. I knew the voice, and just to annoy him I didn’t let up. “And try not to drown yourself.”

  Everyone is just so funny these days. I wiped away water droplets from my bottom lip and turned around. “I’ll be sure to sign the DNR paperwork,” I said to Trent.

  Trent was also dressed in his gym clothes. He rocked back on his heels and folded his arms. “Are you saying you’d rather drown than have me perform CPR to save your life?”

  “I’m not going to answer that.”

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him to perform CPR on me. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to get a taste of those scrumptious full lips. But the guy was pond scum, and I wished to hell he’d wipe the silly grin off his face.

  “Can I?” he asked pointing to the fountain.

  “Be my guest.”

  I moved to the side and held my arm out to guide Trent to the fountain. When I turned around to head to the gym I bumped into something hard and flew backwards, hitting my ass on the hard floor.

  “Seriously Parker?” Devin said. He picked me up off the ground like a vulture snatching its prey. “You really need to slow down and watch where you’re going.”

  Devin’s hard blow left me dazed and confused. I knew I was standing, but for a few seconds I’d forgot where I was or what I was doing. All that registered to my numb brain was the lettering on Devin’s gym uniform to remind me I was at school.

  “Am I late for class?” I asked. Devin and Trent laughed. And when the ringing in my ears finally subsided I gave Devin my best-scowled look. “You know, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to wear a cowbell around your neck.”

  Trent slapped the back of his hand across Devin’s chest. “Dude, she just called you a cow.”

  “That’s a compliment, T.” Devin flexed his biceps and then patted at his six-pack abs. “Cows are lean and muscular.”

  “Then why is my mother always asking the butcher to trim the fat on her rump roasts?” Trent laughed.

  I left Laurel and Hardy in the hallway to finish their discussion without me, and entered the weight room. There were only a handful of girls and half the football team surrounding the equipment. I should have realized the football players would inhabit the place with a game pending tonight.

  There was an open bench in the corner. I changed the weight plates on the bars to fifteen pounds on each side. After I tightened each spin collar, I laid on my back and called for a spotter. It was mandatory to always have a spotter, even if you were lifting feathers.

  The football coach, Mr. Garrison, stood over me but I was doubtful he was actually paying attention when I lifted the bar off the holder. He was too busy barking out orders to his players to run laps and to do push-ups.

  Mr. Garrison was a short and stocky middle-aged man. He had brown and gray hair that only covered half of his head. The bald part of his scalp was golden brown from the sun, which had me thinking he resembled Cookie the Clown from Bozo’s Circus. And the red jumpsuit didn’t help.

  “Willie, don’t sit on our backup quarterback!” Mr. Garrison yelled. “Devin, get over here and spot Parker.”

  In my peripheral vision I saw Devin sprint over. After counting twenty-five extensions, I told him I was resting. He grabbed the weight bar and pushed it forward until the bar was parallel above my head.

  “Give me ten more,” he said.

  “What? No, I’m done here.”

  “Parker, my baby sister could bench press more than thirty pounds. Don’t be a wuss.”

  I was wrestling with Devin to rest the weight bar back on the hook. “You don’t even have a baby sister,” I grunted. “And what would you care?”

  “Well, gee. Maybe I wouldn’t knock you down as much if you weren’t made out of paper.” He forced the bar back over my head. “Give me ten more Parker. I’m right here.”

  “You’re an ass.” I gave him ten more in hopes he’d go away. But he didn’t. I liked it better when Devin ignored me for the past few years. Why did he pick now to annoy me?

  “Five more,” he said.

  “I can’t. My arms feel like wet noodles,” I panted.

  “Three.”

  “When I get up off this bench, I’m going to punch you so hard in the knads.”

  “Sweetheart, when you get off this bench, you won’t even be able to form a fist,” he said laughing.

  After three more repetitions, Devin grabbed the bar from me and rested it on the hooks. I scrambled off the seat and Devin took off running. But two steps into my mad dash after him, Boyd wrapped his arms around me and pulled me back. My feet were up in the air treading voidness.

  “Let me go!” I struggled to wiggle free, but I was no match against Boyd’s strength. “I’m going to kill him.”

  “Relax Parker,” he said. He wouldn’t let up on his tight grip until I stopped squirming. “Devin is just being an ass.”

  Boyd put me down and I straightened my gym shirt, pressing out the wrinkles with my hand. “Guess I picked the wrong time to work out,” I huffed.

  “Us guys would beg to differ,” he said, winking his eye and grinning wider than the Cheshire cat.

  I waved my finger in front of his face. “You better not be looking at another girl, while poor Nikki is at home puking her brains out.”

  “I’m all about Nikki,” Boyd said, patting me on the top of my head as if I were a good little doggie. “But I was referring to what the other guys are saying.”

  “Okay, sure.” Liked I believed him.

  When I pulled into my driveway I received a text message from Nikki asking if I spoke to my mom yet. I sent a reply back that I was just entering the house and would get back to her shortly.

  “Mom?” I yelled when I entered the door.

  There was no reply, so I ambled down the hallway to her bedroom. I peeked in on both Emily and Mariah. They were both sleeping, and making strange wheezing and grunting noises.

  “Parker?” I faintly heard my mother call out.

  I opened her bedroom door to find her still in bed. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “We all have food poisoning.”

  “What?” How did everyone but me have food poisoning? I ate the same meal they did; only I ate more meat and chicken and barely any potatoes. “Were the potatoes bad?”

  “The potatoes were the alleged culprit.”

  “I’m off to the football game. Do you need anything before I go?”

  “A new stomach.”

  After I conquered my math and chemistry homework, I nuked a can of spaghetti and washed it down with a tall glass of milk. The game started at seven, but I had to be on the field before six-thirty to take pictures of the football team’s warm-ups.

  It was another home game, which was a relief. It meant I didn’t have to stress and rush myself. Away games, which started next weekend, I’d have to forgo on my homework until Sunday. Our first away game was forty minutes away, which meant I’d only have time for dinner.

  I snatched my equipment, slipped on my black hoodie, and headed out the door at six-twenty, pulling into the school parking lot with plenty of time to spare. I made sure to drape my newspaper ID around my neck for the world to see, and entered through the gates to the field.

  The sun was starting to descend, but still emitted enough light to clearly see the field and the players. As I snapped a few practice plays, the marching band trampled across the sidelines playing what sounded like, The Magnificent Seven.

  I rolled my eyes when the cheerleaders invaded the sidelines behind the marching band. Although I despised half the cheerleaders, they were impressive to watch in stunting, tumbling and dance. The team took second last year at Nationals, and I had no doubt of them taking home the title this year.

  As the opposing players took the field, the marching band took a seat in a special section of the bleachers, making a loud raucous in the process and taking attention away from the cheerleaders. It was a comical train wreck.r />
  Trent stepped to the middle of the field along with the opposing team’s quarterback and called the coin toss when the referee flicked the coin in the air. All three took a step back to watch it hit the ground. The ref pointed to our team and the crowd cheered.

  Each team lined up for the kick-off and the game was in action. When I snapped a photo of the return, a wave of nausea travelled from my throat, down to the pit of my stomach. I fought tooth and nail to ignore the bile bubbling in my esophagus.

  After the first quarter ended I started to feel flush, and perspiration was dripping from my brow. I shrugged out of my hoodie and tossed it behind me. I kept reciting to myself that I had to be strong and tough it out, at least until the game was over.

  I sighed in relief when the half-time gun went off. The players jogged off the field and headed towards the locker rooms. When the cheerleaders took mid-field I tried to take pictures, but white tiny orbs kept messing with my view.

  “What the hell?” I said out loud. At first I thought someone had a bubble machine, but when the bubbles didn’t burst when I poked at them, I realized I was stabbing air and probably appeared dim-witted to anyone eyeing me. “Oh no, this can’t be good.”

  The cheerleaders left the field and were replaced by the marching band. I saw Amber Zell bounce towards me with a scowled expression. An old movie title popped in my head of: Something Wicked This Way Comes.

  “Why didn’t you take any photos of our cheer, Parker?” she barked, hands on hips.

  Sweat was now coming fast and fierce. I was afraid to speak, knowing I was going to lose control of my boiling stomach acid, so I grunted as a response.

  Amber continued on with her rant. “Listen you fugly bitch. The newspaper isn’t all about Trent, whom you’ll never date. You’re a sports photographer, and cheerleading is a sport. So stop embarrassing yourself in thinking lifting weights the same time Trent does is going to get him to notice your boney ass.”

  My heart raced uncontrollably, and it wasn’t because I wanted to shove my fist down Amber’s throat. The white spots were replaced by black ones and I felt the bile escape through my opened mouth.

  The last thing I remembered was Amber’s blood-curdling scream and my face hitting the cold, hard ground.

  Chapter 10

  Amber was standing directly in front of me, making annoying beeping sounds every two seconds. I went to lift my left hand to cover her mouth, but it was tangled up by a bunch of extension cords. And it almost felt as if someone was peeing on my hand.

  “Parker?” I heard a male voice call.

  My eyes fluttered open and I found myself staring at a white ceiling that had a small rust-colored stain. In the corner of the room mounted on the wall was a television. Assorted flower arrangements lined the windowsill to my right. The sun showcased the vast array of different colors of the flowers. And out the opened door I could see the nurse’s station.

  “Oh shit,” I whispered.

  “How are you feeling?” I heard the voice again from over my right shoulder. I knew it was Boyd.

  “What happened?” I asked turning to face him.

  Boyd was dressed in a black and red Chicago Bulls sweatshirt and blue jeans. He had a huge grin on his face, but I could see the concern in his eyes. I then saw his eyes glare at the IV patched to the back of my left hand.

  “When I took the field, I saw you go from barf to blackout in three seconds flat.”

  “Oh.” I did vaguely recall barfing all over Amber’s cheer shoes. “So, did we win?”

  “Yes, we won.”

  “Cool.” I glanced up at the clock next to the TV. It was three-forty. Was I unconscious for more than twelve hours, or heavily asleep? “How’s Nikki doing?”

  “She and your family are doing much better. They’re still a little weak, and I’m here on their behalf.”

  “You’re a great friend, Boyd Canton.”

  Was he my friend? We weren’t really friends before he started dating Nikki, just acquaintances. But since he didn’t voice any objections, I guessed it to be true.

  It then hit me that I probably looked like death warmed over. I knew I had no make-up on. And after lying on my hair for half a day, I probably resembled Bride of Frankenstein. I wanted to crawl under the covers to hide.

  “What’s wrong?” Boyd asked.

  There was a small mirror on the nightstand beside my bed. I was frightened at what would stare back at me, but I had to know. I held the mirror in front of my face and screamed. “Holy mother of God,” I whimpered.

  There were dark circles under my sunken eyes. Blotchy red dots riddled my oily face, and my hair...my hair actually looked rather nice. Probably the best I’ve ever seen it look in years.

  “Sleeping Beauty is finally awake,” someone said as they walked in my room.

  I glanced over the mirror and screamed again when I saw Trent and Devin. “No! Omigod, Parker. Wake the hell up,” I said slapping myself across my face.

  Boyd grabbed my wrist. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to wake up out of this horrible nightmare,” I said staring at Trent and Devin.

  Trent crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I’m offended. What about you Devin?”

  “I just may shed a tear,” Devin said, wiping away a fake tear from his cheek.

  I pulled the covers over my head and prayed everyone would just disappear and leave me alone. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. I heard their snickers and the sounds of their shoes trampling towards my bed.

  “Please go away,” I pleaded.

  Trent yanked the blanket out of my hands. “But we brought flowers.”

  At that moment, Willie strolled into my room carrying a huge arrangement of flowers in every variety imaginable. Some flowers I didn’t even recognize. They were displayed in a beautiful wicker basket with Get Well balloons tied to each corner. And in the middle of it all was a large multi-colored swirled sucker.

  Willie set the basket at the end of my bed and I felt the weight lift me up a few inches. The basket had to weigh a ton, and the beauty of it all had tears welling up in the corners of my eyes.

  “Is that from the entire football team?” I asked.

  “Coach, too,” Willie said.

  “I’m speechless, guys.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the flowers. But every time my eyes focused on the sucker my stomach did flip-flops. “Thank you so much, I really mean it.”

  A nurse, I guessed to be in her early forties, with long brown hair and tired green eyes, ambled in the room carrying a tray. She placed it on a portable table next to my bed and slid it in front of me. I nearly gagged at the sight of the vegetable soup and grilled cheese sandwich.

  “Only two visitors allowed at one time,” she said looking at the guys.

  Devin plucked the sucker out of the basket and waved it in front of the nurse’s face. “You only see two people in the room with Parker, and you’re getting very sleepy.”

  The nurse snatched the sucker from Devin and smacked him in the forehead with it. “You have ten minutes. Parker needs to eat and keep it down, if she wants to get out of this place.” And she left with my sucker.

  “But I wanted that sucker,” I moaned.

  Trent grabbed the napkin off the tray and tucked it into my hospital gown. I slapped his hand away when I realized what he was doing. It was a suave move just the same.

  “Sorry.” He laughed. “Don’t want you dripping on that stylish gown of yours.”

  Devin scooped up a carrot and some broth in the spoon and tried to feed me. “Open up, Princess. We need our star photographer healthy for the game next week.”

  My mouth must have dropped open from shock, because suddenly I felt the warm broth travel down my windpipes, and the carrot nearly became lodged behind my tonsil.

  “I can feed myself guys, really.”

  “We’re not leaving until you finish your soup,” Boyd said.

  “Please tell me you guys aren’t going to stand here and watch me e
at.”

  This was just getting ridiculous. A few days ago these guys wouldn’t give me the time of day. Then again, I never bothered to acknowledge them in passing. And now they seem to be my shadow. What happened? I didn’t know what to make of it.

  “If I stand here one minute longer, I’m going to steal your food,” Willie said. “I’m going to the cafeteria.” He pushed Devin and Trent aside and kissed me on top of my head.

  “Thanks, Willie,” I said before he left the room.

  Willie, despite being a monster full of intimidation was a sweetheart. Although we weren’t close friends, we did converse on many occasions. I liked Willie. He was always genuine and thoughtful.

  Devin picked up my right hand and shoved the spoon in it. “I’m getting hungry, too. Eat and get better.” He then kissed me on top of my head. Probably to mock what Willie did.

  “And no more barfing,” Trent added, also kissing me on the top of my head. “Unless it’s on Amber’s shoe, then feel free.”

  Devin and Trent high-fived each other, laughing. Trent then turned to Boyd and said, “We’re going to the health club later, you in?”

  “I’m in,” Boyd said. And the three of them did their strange handshake over my bed.

  “Eeks! Watch the soup, boys,” I said grabbing the table to steady it.

  “Later, Collins,” Devin said as he and Trent exited my room.

  Boyd placed my cell phone on the table. “All your belongings, including your camera equipment is in the closet.”

  I wasn’t keen on the idea of expensive camera equipment in a hospital closet. “Can you drop it off at my house, or keep it at yours?”

  “Sure. Anything else I can do for you?”

  The basket of flowers was still at the end of my bed, and I was afraid if I fell asleep they’d end up on the floor. “Could you move the flowers?”

  Boyd picked up the basket and glanced around the room. There was no place for them. The table in the corner of my room was filled. The windowsill was jammed packed, as was the top of the dresser.

  It was a jungle in my room. I couldn’t fathom who could have sent me all those arrangements. I always thought I had more enemies than friends, but I was obviously mistaken. I was itching to know who all sent them.