by Mettey, Tim
The PA announcer said, “If you would now stand for our national anthem. Please welcome our hometown girl, a Winsor Cougar, a world-famous recording artist. Please welcome Chanin Anne.”
A woman with light-brown skin wearing all white except for a green and gold boa walked out from behind the stands. Thousands of pictures were being taken of this woman. I had never heard of her, but judging by the horde of police around her, she had to be famous.
We lined up, took off our helmets, and laid them at our feet, facemasks facing out. We put our hands over our hearts and followed with our eyes the large American flag that a color guard was parading down the center of the field. Coach Miller had us practice a couple of times how to stand for the singing of our national anthem.
Coach Miller didn’t often speak much about other things besides football, but I still remember what he said word for word about the national anthem. “Listen up, men. A lot of people have died for that flag, and it is our duty to show them respect and to respect the greatest country in the world.”
After she was done singing the most incredible national anthem I had ever heard, the refs called both team captains to the center of the field. Oliver and Chad ran out and shook hands with the refs and the other team captains. We won the coin toss and the fans roared so loudly it shook my insides. Oliver came running back, high-fiving everyone near him. I stood at the back toward the bench and put my helmet on, trying to make sure I didn’t give Cora any more reasons to make me quit.
The Mason Comets lined up and kicked the ball to us. Oliver and the offense went out onto the field, carried by the cheers of the crowd. The fans loved to see their golden boy, the face of the team, run out. A part of me was jealous of him. I always had to blend in and be nothing special. Oliver was expected to stand out, to be more than average. Oliver and I were opposites.
“Keller, Keller.” Coach Miller was standing in front of me. “Snap out of it, boy. I know it’s not like the scrimmage. Don’t worry about the crowd, the lights, or anything else. Just worry about playing football. You are starting tonight.”
I followed Coach Miller up to the sideline. The crowd grew quiet. Oliver was getting killed out there. Every time he touched the ball, the other team would swarm around him. He wasn’t sticking with the plays the coaches were calling; he was trying to do it all himself. Instead of throwing the ball or handing the ball off, he would tuck the ball and keep it himself, trying to make a play. How selfish could he be?
“Okay, defense, let’s go!” Coach Miller yelled. Oliver and the offense jogged off the field. Oliver jogged right toward me. It was unavoidable that he was going to pass me. Right when he passed me he said, “Just because you are starting doesn’t mean you’re anything important. You are nothing special!”
I followed the defense onto the field. What Oliver said began to eat at me. I was tired of being nothing special. I didn’t hear what play Chad called. The fire that had been dormant awoke, filling me with rage. I was focused on only one thing, the quarterback. He shouted, “Blue 52, blue 52, set, hike.” My muscles tensed and the fire propelled me forward. I ran past everyone and jumped over the lone blocker. I hit the quarterback ferociously, knocking him to the ground.
“I hurt him,” I said. None of the guys around me heard what I had said, but I wasn’t saying it for them. I was saying it to myself in disbelief. He was sitting up, but he was holding his arm. The trainers motioned to the emergency personnel on the sideline. I couldn’t see what they were doing when they got to him.
“Huddle up,” Chad shouted at me.
We all stood and watched them put a sling on his arm and load him onto a cart. They took him off the field. He waved with his uninjured arm, and the crowd applauded.
The promise I made to Cora and my regret for hurting the quarterback dominated my thoughts for the rest of the game. I played hard, but did very little to stand out. With their quarterback out of the game, we went on to beat them 10-3.
I jogged with the team. A crowd had formed at the main gate, waiting for us to come off the field. Oliver was in front, pumping his fist, playing it up for the crowd. I was so preoccupied that I didn’t even look for Elle. Hopefully she would understand.
I didn’t take off my helmet so that no one could see my face. In crowds, Cora always made me wear a hat. About halfway out of the stadium, I heard a familiar voice in the crowd yell, “Good game, Nicholas!” I knew who it was because her voice gave me butterflies. I looked up to see Elle smiling at me. I smiled back.
I changed quickly to meet Cora outside. I moved silently through the team. I made it to the door and heard Oliver yelling, “We are the Cougars, the mighty, mighty Cougars!”
The locker room responded to him with, “We are the Cougars . . .”
Coach Miller came in just as Oliver started the chant again. The rest of the coaches, all looking like we had lost the game, followed behind him.
“Do you think we have something to cheer about? Do you?” Coach Miller asked in a very calm voice, which was scarier than his shouting. “The only ones who should be celebrating are the defense because they won the game for us. They even saved us when Oliver fumbled the ball on our own 10-yard line.” The locker room was as quiet as I had ever heard it. Coach Miller had everyone’s full attention.
“Chad and Nicholas, good job tonight. I want to see more of the same effort from you two and the rest of the defense. Great job,” Coach Miller said with a smile. I noticed for the first time that the entire defense was on the same side of the locker room.
“Defense, get dressed and get out of here.”
I was halfway out the door when Coach Miller began to shout at the offense about how poorly they had played and that maybe the JV offense should start next week. I knew he wasn’t yelling at me, but it was still hard to listen to.
I walked out the back door by the JV locker room, where Cora was leaning against our truck, waiting. She saw me and smiled. I climbed into the passenger seat. She merged into the line of cars trying to get out. Crowds of people were celebrating in the parking lot, which forced all of the cars down to one lane to exit.
“So, you had a good game,” Cora said.
I couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement. “Thanks.”
I looked out the window, and a group of students were staring right at me. One of the boys in the crowd with his face painted green and wearing a large gold chef’s hat pointed at me and said something to the rest of the group. The group started to clap and chant, “Keller, Keller, Keller!” Then the chant erupted among the other fans around our truck.
The next ten minutes waiting for our turn to get out of the parking lot were the longest of my life. Cora pretended like nothing was going on and I did too. I could only sink down so far in my seat. Any lower, I would be laying on the floor.
“We need to talk, Nicholas.”
“I know what you’re going to say. We are moving or I have to quit.”
“Is that what you want me to say?” Cora asked.
“Well, no, but isn’t that what you were going to say?” I asked.
“No, I was going to talk about how proud I was of you during the game.”
“Proud? What part are you proud of? The part when I broke the guy’s arm because I was angry?”
“No, not that part. But after that you faded into the background. You never stood out again. Sure, your name was announced for a tackle or two, but—”
“Wait, they announced our names?” I asked.
“Sure, they said your name, but you never made a spectacular play again after the first one. Believe me, after the first play, I wanted to grab you and run out of there, but you showed me that you learned from your mistake. I’m proud of you.”
My face felt like it was on fire from embarrassment.
“Since you are already embarrassed, I might as well ask who the girl is.”
“What girl?”
“You know, the girl that waited for you after the game to tell you good game.”
“You were watching?”
“Well, it was hard not to notice. I happened to be standing next to her, trying to get your attention. You didn’t even know I was there when I yelled to you, but she sure got your attention with barely any effort.”
“She’s a friend from school.”
Cora didn’t say anything.
A DATE
CHAPTER TWELVE
Nothing could have prepared me for school on Monday. When I got off the bus, Eric was waiting for me with what had to be half of the school. They were all cheering my name, “Nicholas, Nicholas, Nicholas.” The chant burrowed into me like a hot poker, making me instantly uncomfortable with nowhere to run.
Eric pulled me off the bus and pushed me to the center of the mob. He raised his hand and they all quieted. He then belted out, “Nicholas Keller is the students’ pick for MVP of Friday’s game against the Mason Comets.”
Everyone cheered after Eric’s announcement. Eric pulled out a large beaded necklace with footballs on it and forced it over my head. The necklace looked like it was thrown from a Mardi Gras float. Eric yelled again, “This is the first time that an underclassman has gotten the MVP necklace, and it makes me proud to call him my friend.”
Eric walked me around to different groups of people. It was like he was showing off his shining, new toy that everyone wanted to play with. I finally escaped Eric and the crowd, but it wasn’t any better inside the school. Everyone in the school knew me now. “Keller, great game,” “MVP,” and “Nice hit,” came from everywhere. Even teachers got in on the action. I became nauseated.
I was planning to eat in the hallway again, but now I could see that wouldn’t work. Everywhere I went, people were coming up to me. I took off the football necklace and shoved it into my bag. I hoped to break it in the process, just in case Eric saw me without it, so I could use that as an excuse for why I wasn’t wearing it.
I barely made it through biology. The two girls began talking to me again with new vigor. They wanted to go over every play of the game. They talked about how awesome it was that I took out the other team’s quarterback. The bell rang and I bolted out of the classroom and into the hallway to get away from them. I arrived at Coach Hoff’s class completely rattled. This was more attention than I had ever received in the last five years combined.
Coach Hoff was already in the classroom, sitting at his desk with his feet up, reading the morning paper. The bell rang and all of the students rushed to their seats, shocked that he was there already. He never moved; he just continued reading his paper while the class settled down.
“Well, class, before I let you go to lunch, we should give a round of applause to our football team for leading us to our first win against our cross-town rivals, the Comets!” The class started to applaud.
“Wait! Wait! I would like to congratulate Mr. Nicholas Keller for being the first underclassman to play and start on varsity. He did it with real style, knocking out the Comet’s quarterback during his first play of the game!” The class exploded into louder celebration. I sank down in my seat. I turned around, hoping that if I smiled, their cheers would end, but instead I caught a glimpse of an angry Oliver.
“Okay, class, go to lunch.”
I knew that Oliver was going to be waiting for me for sure after all of that. I was right. Oliver and his buddy were slow to get out of their seats when we were dismissed. I tried to hurry up and get out, but Oliver was right there.
“Mr. Keller, may I have a word? Rails, you and Chester get going,” Coach Hoff said to them. Oliver walked out of the class dejected.
“Keller, you are one hell of a football player. It’s exciting to see you play. To be honest, I haven’t seen anyone play football like that since Coach Miller played back in the day.
“But that’s not the reason why I wanted to talk to you. You need to stand up for yourself. Don’t let Oliver or anyone else make you do something you don’t want to do. Don’t let them pick on you, okay? Bullies are only bullies if they have someone to bully. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I responded.
“Okay then, off to lunch.”
I grabbed my lunch, but I wasn’t sure where to eat. I needed to escape from all of this madness. I wandered through the empty halls. I couldn’t eat in the lunchroom or the hall now, so where could I go?
Up ahead a door opened. I waited for the person who had opened it to vanish, and then I went in. It was the staircase to the second story, and under the stairs was what looked like a perfect place to escape. It was a small place where I could sit and no one could see me. This could be my sanctuary, my safe spot.
I slid down the brick wall onto the thinly carpeted floor. I unpacked my lunch and began to eat. Was Coach Hoff right about standing up to Oliver? But how would I do that without drawing more attention? Was Oliver making me do things that I didn’t want to do? Looking around, I realized he was, because I was hiding and eating under the stairs. He wasn’t the only reason I was hiding, but he was part of it. I started to see Coach Hoff’s point.
The twenty minutes under the stairs were good for me. I was able to relax and regain some of my composure. Back in class, Oliver and Chester were not interested in me. That was a relief because as much as Coach Hoff might be right about standing up to them, saying it is one thing and doing it is another.
Coach Hoff gave us several problems to work on with a partner. Elle leaned forward and asked, “Do you want to be partners?”
“Sure,” I said without turning my head. I fumbled with some papers on my desk to buy some time to calm down. I turned my desk around, slowly facing her.
I didn’t say anything; I just kept my eyes on the paper. The problems were so easy that I finished in a couple of minutes. I looked up to see if Elle was done. Her paper was blank. She hadn’t worked any of them. She was just staring at me.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Why haven’t you worked on your problems yet?”
“I was waiting to see how long it would take for you to look at me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Now don’t get upset, Nicholas. I was curious to see if your avoidance of me also applied to looking at me in class. Have I done something to make you upset with me?” she asked.
“No, you haven’t.”
“Then what is it? You don’t have to answer me now, but give me a chance to be your friend at least. Tomorrow at lunch let me eat with you. I will get my food and meet you under the stairs.” Her angelic face looked innocent. Blood started to rush to my face.
“Please don’t be upset with me,” she continued. “I came back to see if you were okay today and saw you go into the stairwell. I went in there to find you, and I heard you under the stairs. I didn’t say anything to you because I was afraid that you would think I was stalking you.”
I was speechless.
“Well, I will assume from your silence that it’s okay to eat with you.” She began to work on her problems, breezing through them just as I had. I watched her work on her problems. Her fluid, artistic writing was just another thing that made her perfect in my eyes. The bell rang.
The next day in class Elle didn’t say anything to me, but she had a big smile on her face. Every time we made eye contact, the butterflies in my stomach exploded.
“Breathe,” I whispered to myself. It didn’t help.
I sprang to my feet when we were dismissed for lunch and was the first one out the door. I took a different path to my hiding spot. There seemed to be a bigger crowd in the halls and around the entrance to the stairs than last time. After a couple of minutes, I slipped through the door and slid back behind the stairs. Sitting under the stairs was not relaxing at all. It was more like sitting in a dentist chair, waiting for the drill. I propped myself up against the wall, waiting for her. Each time the door opened, I held my breath. Maybe she forgot.
“Nicholas, it’s me,” Elle called under the stairs like s
he was waiting for me to open a secret door to let her in. She peaked her head in. She looked around at the small space like she was sizing it up. I hadn’t really seen her yet today. She looked stunning as usual. She was a bright ray of sunshine in this dark, poorly lit place under the stairs. She always dressed very simply, but it made her look even more beautiful and breathtaking. Her beauty was indescribable. She didn’t have to wear all the fancy clothes or jewelry that the other kids wore.
“Is this seat taken?” she asked. “Oh, a smile. Careful, I might think you want to be friends.” If only she knew what I thought about her.
“So what are you eating, Nicholas? Anything good?”
I showed her the gourmet sandwich and pasta salad that Cora had made me.
“Wow! Did you get that here?” She had a tossed salad, french fries, and a grape pop that she had gotten from the cafeteria. It looked pretty standard.
“No, my mom made it. She’s kind of like a chef. Well, not quite, but she loves to cook.”
“Well, no wonder you don’t eat the cafeteria food all the time. If my mom packed lunches like that, I would avoid the cafeteria too!” It wasn’t one of Cora’s fancier lunches, but the bread was homemade and the turkey had a cranberry dressing on it. I guess the sandwich next to the tri-color pasta salad looked pretty fancy.
I took a bite of my sandwich. She began to eat her salad, croutons first, dipping them into her dressing. When they were gone, she stabbed one piece of lettuce at a time, dipping them the same way she did her croutons. In between her bites of salad, she would take one of the fries and dip it into her ranch dressing too. She was absolutely adorable.
“So why are you eating under here?”
I didn’t have to think hard about this one. Cora had prepared me to answer this question a million times. “I like my privacy.”
She thought for a moment in between ranch-covered fries. “I can leave if you’d like.”