Go Long, Fairview

Little Goddamn Star

It'll blow over. Please blow over.

"Abby forgot her fucking opening statement and rambled for five minutes," James groaned, "Now we're out of the mock trial competition and I'll never make state because the season is over."

"Jeez," I mutter, admittedly not really listening.

He frowns, annoyed, "You won't tell me what happened, but you won't listen. Do you want me to leave?"

"No," I say quickly. We're sitting in my finished basement on a beaten leather couch. A bowl of chips sits in front of us, untouched. "I'm sorry."

"Just tell me." He pushes. "You know I have no one else to tell."

"That's..." true. "Not the point," I lie. In all honesty, I'm dying to tell him but I don't want him to look at me the same way coach did. Like I was fucking up everything and I didn't know it already. "Ok fine," I take a chip from the bowl, "don't, like, scream or anything." I bite into it.

His eyes widen. "I'll do my best not to."

"I punched Matt in the face and quit football." I say quickly, bracing myself.

"You-" James takes a breath. "Connect the dots, please."

I almost hug him for not overreacting. "He took my position, which we know, so I was benched again. And he was just so good. It killed me, dude. So after practice he sees that I'm all pissy, because obviously."

James nods. "Yeah for sure."

"He comes up to me and starts apologizing because he feels bad."

He scoffs. "Well he's doing nothing about it."

"That's what I'm saying," I emphasize. "Anyway, he smiles. I'm still pissed, and he's smiling like he's Jesus Christ and he can do no wrong, just trying to make things right."

"Ugh," James groans, "I hate those people."

"So I punched him." I grimace, "and coach saw. He led us into the cafeteria to figure shit out. But I found out that Matt only took my position because there were scouts at the playoffs and he was still mad at our school!"

"No," James says in disbelief, "what a dick. But quitting?"

"Coach said if we didn't figure it out, one of us had to go."

"No shit."

I nod. "Obviously Matt is his new little goddamn star, so I packed up and left."

James looks like he still can't believe what I'm saying. "I'm so sorry," is all he says.

"Don't be, it was a decision." I lean back on the couch. "And I'm sorry about mock trial, that really sucks. You were a great captain."

"It's ok," he says, "and you don't have to lie. We were a mess."

"What? You beat the best teams in the state, it was just Abby." I shrug, "I said you shouldn't have given her the chance."

He smiles. "Fine, you were right."

I go to respond when my phone lights up. "Shit," I mutter.

"What?" James is quick to my side, trying to see the notification.

It's a text from my co-captain, or just captain now, Tommy. It reads: call me.

"Oh no," James whispers. "Can I stay in the room though?"

"Yeah," I whisper back and press Tommy's contact, hitting call. It barely rings once before it's picked up.

"You know I thought the day I became captain would be a good one," Tommy starts immediately. The echo makes it clear that he's alone in the locker room. I guess I won't miss going to Saturday practices. I put Tommy on speaker for James.

"Tommy, look-" I go to start.

He cuts me off. "You left me stuck with freshmen, sophomores, and Matt," he hisses, obviously trying to stay quiet.

"What about Andy and Garret?" I ask. They're a couple other seniors we sit with at lunch, I figured he'd be fine. And the juniors aren't that bad.

He sighs, annoyed. "You know exactly what I mean. I can't watch him take your spot."

"It's not my spot." I defend.

"Don't lie."

"I'm not."

"Coach told me what happened." Tommy says suddenly. "I just about punched him."

I pause for a moment. "I should've just gone with what Matt said."

"No," Tommy says, "you're not ready to be 'friends' with him, dude."

"Yeah!" James adds in out of impulse.

"James?" Tommy asks. I forgot I introduced them once or twice.

He clamps a hand over his mouth and shakes his head. I roll my eyes, "yeah, he's at mine."

"Whatever Fairview," Tommy says but I can hear his smile. I hear coach yell for Tommy to hurry up. "Please come back. Fight for it." He hangs up.

I put my phone down, ignoring the texts from the team group chat I haven't left yet. They're just from Andy, Garret and a couple other guys asking where I was. "So?" James asks.

"Too soon." I say. "Matt'll think he won."

"I guess," James says and leans back into the couch. "Wanna watch Bill and Ted?"

———

I wake up Sunday morning on my bed, facing James on my floor. We forgot about hospitality around about the fifth sleepover. Before James, I never really had them. "Wake up." I say, and throw a pillow at his face. He groans and rolls over. "Wake uuuuup," I strain to grab another pillow and hit him square in the nose. He sits up this time.

"Fight for it," he says, half asleep, and raises a fist. I almost laugh at his horrible Tommy impression, but Tommy might be watching. He's like the dad of our team more than coach is.

"I'll make you waffles," I say.

"With-"

"Mhm." I hum, swinging my legs over the side of my bed. "I know." He's been getting blueberry and chocolate waffles every morning he wakes up here. "Come one, you can be in charge of the waffle maker."

———

The whole time we eat I can't help but think about what Tommy says. Who am I kidding? I haven't stopped thinking about it since I hung up. Every part of me misses football. I don't even know what I want to do now. I was always going to go to college for football, get a business degree, and play for the NFL until I hit thirty two. But unless I rejoin the team, I'll have to figure something else out.

Am I really letting Matt ruin my career?