by Bryan Bliss
“I’ll take Luke on my team—you guys are gonna need all the help you can get.”
Every dude on the court laughed. Man, I couldn’t even think of a comeback. So I stood there looking stupid. Eventually Eddie came over, smiling and still talking shit over his shoulder to this dude who was an absolute monster.
I was like, “What was that about?”
And he said, “I told him you were going to embarrass him out here.”
You should’ve seen the way he smiled, T. Like he was on fire. When I looked back at that monster—he had to be at least seven inches taller than me—he was staring at me like I’d said something about his sister.
I must’ve looked crazy nervous, because Eddie laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. Started telling me how I shouldn’t worry, because Sister got him totally rehabilitated. Then he started talking strategy!
I wasn’t even listening to what Eddie was saying because that giant wouldn’t stop looking at me. When the game started, he got right up on me too. Started pushing me all over the place. The first time we came up the court, Eddie passed the ball to me, and this dude didn’t even pretend to play defense. Knocked me right on my ass.
Eddie picked up the ball and checked it. He pretended to pass it in my direction and then he took off, right to the basket. I swear it was one dribble and two steps and then he was up in the air, flying above everybody. Nobody bothered playing defense after that. We were all watching Eddie.
Every single thing he did had a specific purpose. None of it looked particularly important, but when he put it all together, it was beautiful. We won ten to zero.
Eddie was everywhere. Anytime they got close to the basket, he’d take the ball away. And even when he wasn’t scoring, he was making everything happen on offense.
After it was over, we were all sitting on the grass—sweating, starting to get cold because of the wind. Eddie leaned back, resting on his elbows with his eyes closed and his nose in the air. When he started talking, I jumped.
“Back when I was a kid, when my mom didn’t give a shit and I was basically living by myself on the streets, you know what I had?”
He palmed the ball and held it out to me.
“This. This right here. The only good thing I ever had in my life was hoops. When I was in high school, a reporter said I played like somebody was chasing me. Nobody stopped me on the court, Luke. Nobody.”
I know that feeling. When I was on the mat, it was like somebody was trying to take something away from me every time I had a match. I never could’ve told you that until I got here, though. In here, they take everything. Every damn bit of every damn thing you got. Snap your fingers and it’s all gone. But Eddie wasn’t trying to hear anything like that right then, because he was like, “This might be the best day of my life.”
And I was like, “C’mon . . .”
Because that’s crazy. A half-assed pick-up game on a windy day on death row? Best day ever? Eddie opened his eyes and stared at me as if he was reading every thought that came through my head.
“Feel the leather on your hand. Talk a little trash. Put the ball through that hoop.” Eddie closed his eyes and smiled again. “Nobody’s taking that away from me. And that’s enough. I don’t need anything else.”
I thought about that really hard, T.
I don’t know if I have anything like that in my life. Even when I wrestled, I don’t know if I loved it on that sort of bone-deep level. So as we sat there in the sun and the wind, I tried closing my eyes too. Wondering if maybe that could be a start to what Eddie was talking about. A start to trying to figure things out, you know?
Luke
25
LUKE was the last one to get to the locker room before the match. He got dressed and walked out into the gymnasium, where the mats were already rolled out and taped down with precision. He stepped on them, feeling the cushion, and closed his eyes.
“You beat me out here.”
Luke turned around. Connor Herrera was standing just off the mat, his singlet down around his waist and his headgear strapped to the loop.
“I didn’t realize it was a competition.”
Connor rolled his neck and stepped onto the mat. He was right next to Luke when he said, “It’s not. I just like to be the first one on the mat before a match.”
“Well, I hope it totally ruins your night,” Luke said.
Connor smiled. “I was kind of worried when you first dropped weight. And then the more I thought about it, I decided I was kind of pissed. I don’t plan on losing.”
“Well, you can always jump up and wrestle 181.”
Herrera’s coach came walking out of the locker room and yelled his name. Connor nodded, pulling his singlet up over his shoulders. When it was in place, he reached a hand out to Luke.
“Make it a good one,” he said.
Luke shook his hand. “You too.”
Luke was trying to warm up when he heard his mom’s voice. She and Ricky were walking into the gym, followed by Annie, holding each of the boys’ hands. Annie smiled and mouthed, “Good luck.” His mom saw him and started yelling and waving, laughing as Ricky bear-hugged her from behind. Annie led the boys to the top of the bleachers, a destination they’d obviously chosen. Luke scanned the top row for Toby and Lily too, but they weren’t there yet.
He started the pre-match routine he’d done hundreds of times, circling the mat and trying to get warm. Working everything but Connor Herrera out of his mind. He didn’t feel tired or out of sync. Just ready. When Coach O came over and asked him how he was doing, Luke told him he felt great.
“I’m good to go,” he said.
“I know you are,” Coach said. “Six minutes of pain for that kid, you hear me?”
Luke nodded, but when a side door of the gym opened, Luke’s head shot up, expecting Toby and Lily. Instead it was a few cheerleaders he barely knew, both of them waving at him too.
Annie caught his eye and nodded toward the girls, a single eyebrow raised the whole time. Then she laughed, loud enough that the entire gym stared up at her. He started jumping rope, and damn if he wasn’t grinning like an idiot. Enough that Coach came back over and stared at him like he had a second head growing out of his body.
He kept catching Annie’s eye—why wouldn’t he?—and she would smile. He would smile. Once the matches started, he was still smiling.
And then he saw a kid who couldn’t have been more than twelve, dancing in the stands. Pretty soon the twins joined him. Of course it wasn’t Toby, didn’t even look like him. But the way he moved, as if he didn’t give a damn about anybody—the way kids always danced—hit Luke. He scanned the crowd, making sure Toby hadn’t snuck in. When his eyes landed on Annie, her smile faded and she mouthed, “Are you okay?”
Luke nodded absently, trying to focus on what was happening on the mat.
103 won by decision.
113, a pin.
They were dominating, as expected. But they were making their way through the weight classes in record time. Across the room, Herrera shot across the practice mat, a graceful mix of power and speed. One of their assistant coaches saw Luke and bent down to whisper something in Herrera’s ear. Connor looked over his shoulder at Luke and grinned.
Normally, Luke wouldn’t move. Would give him the death stare from across the gym, even if it meant losing a little warm-up time. Half of his matches at this point were mental. He could beat an unconfident wrestler before he ever got on the mat. But instead he stood there aimlessly holding the jump rope, until Bryant at 165 was having his arm raised after an early first-round pin.
Coach O was yelling his name.
“Take his fancy ass to school!” Coach yelled as Luke walked onto the mat.
Herrera reached out his hand, and they shook.
When the ref’s whistle blew, Luke shot forward and took Herrera down almost immediately. Two points, and he was already pushing him onto his back for more. For the pin. While he normally never heard the crowd, today it was impos
sible not to. The entire gym was shaking as Luke worked his body around. He went high and Herrera bridged, trying to save himself. Luke was a fraction out of position, and Herrera took advantage immediately. His coach was yelling, “Half! Half!” But Herrera had already slipped one under Luke, wrenching his neck. Turning him toward the mat.
Luke flipped to his stomach easy enough, but he couldn’t get up. He could barely move as Connor looped a leg around his and rode him until the period ended. When he stood up, Coach clapped and pointed at the scoreboard.
“Two-two, son. Your house. Let’s do this!”
Luke dropped to the mat, getting into the referee’s position. But he couldn’t escape the crowd. Annie gave him a little clap; his mom yelled. Even Ricky clapped once, nodding his head. Luke didn’t see Toby.
When Connor got on top of him, Luke focused on his hands, his feet. Both of them solid on the mat. He visualized every point he would take, the road toward the pin. Explode up, one point. Attack the legs, two more. And when he brought Herrera to the mat a second time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. He would hammer Connor Herrera into the mat so hard, the next time he heard Luke’s name, he’d run the other way.
He could see every step he was going to take, every single movement of his body.
But then the whistle blew, and Luke’s face went straight into the mat.
His coach was yelling.
The other coach was yelling louder.
Luke had been in tough matches before. Last year’s opening match at the state tournament had everybody talking. The kid had it in for Luke, had made that match—win or lose—his state championship. It went three periods, and Luke won by a single point.
So he’d been here before. He slowly worked his way up, first to his knees. Then to his feet, peeling Herrera’s hands from around his waist until they were both facing each other again.
One more point, three-two in Luke’s favor.
The crowd was cheering, and Luke was starting to feel it. Finally starting to push Toby from his mind.
Luke circled Connor, who was smiling. Ready for the fight. The first thing you learned as a wrestler was, nobody could do anything for you on the mat. You were alone out here. And nothing you said was ever going to change that. You had to put action behind your words. Work. Even a marginal athlete could be a legendary wrestler if he worked hard enough.
Luke feigned a single leg, and when Herrera sprawled, Luke put him in a front headlock and hooked his arm. As he expected, Herrera posted with his leg and Luke spun around—two more points—and used his arm to drive Connor down. The entire gym exploded when Herrera’s shoulders touched the mat.
And then it happened.
Connor slipped away from Luke’s grip and was on top of him before he could move. When Luke tried to bridge, Herrera snuck an arm around his chest and locked Luke’s head up with the other arm.
It was the first time Luke had been pinned in nearly four years.
Luke wasn’t sure what to do, how to hold his body when he walked off the mat. It seemed quiet, the sort of shock he’d only heard in movies. After the other matches, as his teammates came to shower and get dressed, a few of them stopped by his locker. He hadn’t moved. His headgear was still on his lap. Coach came by and put a hand on Luke’s shoulder, not saying a word. Even if he had, Luke was somewhere else. Back on the mat. Trying to figure out what had happened.
When he looked up, the locker room was empty. A single shower was still on, spraying into the darkness. Luke took a quick shower and slowly dressed back into the jeans and hoodie he’d worn to school. Eventually there was no other reason to hide in the locker room, so he pushed through the doors to what he hoped was an empty gym.
He didn’t know what he expected when he saw Annie, Doreen, and Ricky sitting on the bleachers. The twins were out on the mat, wrestling each other hard. At first none of them saw him. But the door closed behind him, and they all stopped and looked.
Jack-Jack came flying up, trailed by Petey. They jumped without asking and Luke caught both, one in each arm. They were talking a mile a minute about the match, detailing every move they remembered. Every point.
“And then you lost,” Petey said matter-of-factly.
Both boys looked like they’d been told Santa wasn’t real. Jack-Jack suddenly couldn’t get any words out. Petey was equally stumped. Luke dropped down on one knee and stared at both of them.
“What do I always tell you?”
“Clean up your crap?” Petey offered.
Luke couldn’t help but laugh. “If you’re not losing, you’re not wrestling. Remember? That’s one of the first things I ever taught you two. Everybody loses.”
“Yeah, but . . .” Jack-Jack looked at Luke, then over his shoulder to Ricky, dropping his voice to just a whisper. “You don’t lose.”
Ricky and Doreen walked up behind them, holding hands.
“I’ve seen some tough shit in my life,” Ricky said, shaking his head. “And that was tough.”
Doreen came up to Luke and put an awkward hand on his shoulder. “Are you going to be okay?”
Luke nodded. Behind Doreen, Annie was pretending to check her phone as she listened to every word they said. Luke smiled at his mom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that.
“I’ll be fine. You should get the boys home.”
Doreen stood there, obviously wanting to say more. When Ricky called her name, she decided against it. She told the boys to hug Luke, looking back at Annie. “I suspect he’ll be home late,” she said.
Annie walked onto the mat slowly, staring at Luke in a way that was either sad or embarrassed. He didn’t know until she was right next to him, and saw her eyes. She wasn’t crying, but they seemed to hang a little lower than normal.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey.”
“That was . . .” She looked around the gym. “Kind of exciting? And kind of the hottest thing I’ve ever seen?”
Luke couldn’t muster much more than a nod.
“Like, really. You were so . . . dominant.”
“Yeah, until I got my ass handed to me.”
Annie tackled Luke, bringing him down to the mat and pretending to wrestle him until she was simply holding him in her arms. She didn’t say anything, just held him, which was exactly what Luke wanted. As they sat there, he fought the urge to completely lose it. Over the match. His mom. And, of course, Toby.
He wasn’t sure how long he was sitting there when Annie said, “So do you think we could have sex on this mat, or would that be completely disgusting?”
“Um, I don’t think we should do that,” Luke said.
“Yeah, of course,” Annie said, laughing nervously. “I was totally kidding.”
Luke sat with her for another two or three minutes before the janitor came in, earphones on, and nearly fell over when he saw them sitting on the mat. Annie tripped trying to get up, laughing even harder when Luke tried to explain why they were still in the gym. Stumbling even more on his words. When they were finally outside, Annie leaned against the building and pulled Luke close to her.
“I feel like he would’ve been less shocked if we’d been naked,” she said.
Luke laughed. He leaned close and kissed her.
“Mmm,” she said. “Is there any way we can make your mom disappear again for, well, ever?”
“Have you thought about Iowa?” Luke asked.
She looked up, as if pondering the question. “Maybe . . .”
“No parents up there.”
Annie leaned her forehead against Luke’s. “I like you. I like this. Now let me drive you somewhere so we can make out with integrity.”
Nothing sounded better to Luke than that right now. But he was still trembling with energy. Energy that would slowly turn frantic as the night went on. He needed to run. Just to the apartment. Maybe a little farther. He’d stop right in her doorway, if she wanted.
“Can you wait an hour?”
Annie leaned back and cons
idered Luke. “You never know what might happen in that hour. What if Toby actually shows up and I suddenly get interested in that skinny dork?”
As soon as she said it, Annie grimaced.
“Don’t worry about it,” Luke said. “And I’ll take my chances.”
“I’m sure he has a reason,” Annie said cautiously.
Luke wasn’t. Before, him not showing up would elicit a National Guard–sized response in Luke. But even though they’d spent the last couple of days together and things had slowly returned to a familiar shape and size, he realized he fundamentally couldn’t trust Toby. Not as long as Lily was around.
“I’m just going to run and . . .” He bit his lip. “Whatever.”
Annie leaned forward and kissed him gently. As he started jogging, she yelled out, “Don’t get too tired!”
He didn’t run fast.
Despite Annie waiting for him, despite his first loss in four years. Despite all the work of cutting weight to meet Herrera. And maybe most importantly, despite Toby’s disappearing act—he finally didn’t feel like he was trying to outrun a demon. Now, it would be enough to let his legs slowly seep the extra energy out of his body. To clear his head so he could go back to the apartment, take Annie in his arms, and fall with her into the couch, laughing as quietly as they could.
Toby could wait until tomorrow.
He took turns as they presented themselves, slowly putting a loop together in his mind. He passed now-closed mills, tall and haunting in the shadows. A small breakfast spot that catered to the lone furniture factory on the road and, just as he was about to link back to the road that would lead him to Annie and the apartment, the Deuce.
Luke skidded to a stop.
Toby’s car stood out among the heaps, Harleys, and hulked-out trucks. Luke’s stomach dropped. He wanted to believe Toby wouldn’t keep making the same mistakes. That he wouldn’t lie to his face. But standing there, staring at the El Camino, it was clear Toby had made a decision. For a half second, Luke thought about running back to the apartment and forgetting all of it. The next time Toby came by—be it a beating or because Lily had dropped him in the way Luke knew she would—he would meet him with indifference for the first time in their lives.