The Game: Part 2

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If running into Ali wasn't enough of a buzzkill, seeing the effect Bud is having on our friends as we return to our seats is enough to make me want to call it a night. 

Lilliana looks ready to tear her history textbook in half, she-hulk style. And Marcus is pouting at me like I'm the negligent mother who abandoned him in the grocery store with ... strangers.

Bud is dressed like the chubby sidekick in an eighties skiing movie. It's cold, but not puffy coat and pompom hat cold. His cheeks are beet red. Not sure if that's from the nip in the air or the fact that he's probably been the only one talking since he sat down between to the two people least likely to engage with him on the planet.

He stands up when he sees us coming. "Oh hey. I was ... um ... just keeping your seats warm."

"It's cool," Joshua says. "You don't have to get up."

Bud is already up and trying to wriggle past us, but it's a tight squeeze. I lose my balance and tip toward the row under us. "Woah." Bud slides his arms around my back and catches me in what feels an awful lot like a dip. "Got you." He blushes at me, and I can't help but laugh. He sets me back on my feet and grabs Joshua by the shoulders to avoid knocking him over, too.

Once we're done seat shuffling, I snuggle back in between my two dates, and Bud plants himself on the other side of Joshua. Lilliana hasn't said a word during our maneuvers, but there's frustrated steam coming off her head right now.

"Are you guys going to the dance tonight?" Bud asks as the other team scores and the crowd groans in disgust.

"C'mon!" Joshua bellows. "Get it together, you guys!"

Marcus bounces his knees nervously. He's worried about Tom.

Both Tom and Kendall seem out of sorts. Normally, Kendall is a fireball of intensity on the field. Calling out plays, slapping asses, and butting heads with teammates. But not today.

Tom keeps trying to check in with him, and it's pissing both Kendall and the head coach off. The coach calls Tom off the field and yells in his face, while Tom gestures wildly out at Kendall like he's trying to make a point. The coach responds by benching Tom, who uncharacteristically throws a fit. Chucking his helmet. Knocking over a cooler of Gatorade. Shoving a teammate for saying something he doesn't want to hear. 

Bud clears his throat, and I realize no one has answered him about the dance.

"Yeah, Bud, we're all going," I say.

"Cool," he says. He takes his phone out of his puffy jacket pocket and looks at it. "I have to go home first to change. But maybe I'll see you there?"

"Yeah," Joshua says with his eyes on the field. "We'll be there."

"Cool," Bud says again. He's looking at his phone, but the screen is black.

"We're all going for pizza at H-Hop," I say impulsively. "After the game."

"Oh," Bud says. "Is that like ... can anybody go? Or is it ... like a friends only thing?"

"Yes."

"No-" I say, turning to Lilliana. She shakes her head and mouths the words "what are you doing?" I furrow my brow at her, then turn back to Bud. "You should come. We'll be there around six and we'll go to the dance from there."

Bud beams like I just read his winning lottery numbers. "Yeah. Okay great. Um..." He stands up and drops his phone. "Shit." He bends down to pick it up and someone behind us calls him a fat ass. I want to close my eyes and ears over the vicarious embarrassment I'm feeling for him. He's such a disaster. I don't know how to save him from himself.

He stands back up and salutes the jerk who called him out. It makes me smile. "See you at six," he says to everyone. But he's only looking at me.

"See you then," I say. Another asshole hurls a fat joke at Bud as he's descending the bleachers. I thank God he doesn't wipe out on the steps on his way down.

"You're a really nice person," Joshua says into my ear. The warmth of his breath sends a happy thrill down my spine. "I hope I can be as nice as you when I grow up." He leans back and smiles. His eyes scan my face, hair, and mouth. He giggles then turns back to the field.

I turn my head just in time to watch Kendall get sacked. The crowd stands up and groans angrily. Tom flies off the bench and screams at the head coach again. The coach spits back and points to the bench.

Kendall takes a long time to get up. When he does, he's shaky on his feet. He shoves a hand into the opening of his helmet, pressing his fingers over his eyes. A teammate checks in. Kendall waves him off, straightens up, claps his hands together three times, pumps the fingers of his right hand and steps up to the line.

Tom makes one final plea to the head coach who ignores him. He's far away, but when Tom glances up at the stands, I can see his face is twisted with worry. Marcus tenses up beside me and I grab his hand to steady him.

Kendall leans forward and shouts out the play. The ball makes it to his hands, but he can't hold on. It slips from his fingers and he's falling backwards. He throws his hands up defensively but it's too late. Tom breaks onto the field--the whistle blows--a flag goes up--as Kendall, already halfway to the ground, takes a hit so hard we all feel it.

Everyone is standing. Lilliana jumps up on the bleacher, spilling her history book onto the dirty stair below her. Her hands are over her mouth and her eyes are wide with fear.

I cling to Marcus and Joshua as I try to find Kendall under the mess of bodies on the field. Tom is dragging people off one by one, while the ref tries to pull him away. He gets to the bottom of the pile to Kendall, who is moving but can't sit up. Tom shouts back to the sideline and two trainers run out onto the field.

The hush of the crowd is deafening. I'm nauseated and I want to move, but my feet are stuck, and my hands are being crushed.

The trainers spend a long time assessing Kendall before he's able to stand up and walk off the field. The crowd and both teams clap him off and we take a collective breath of relief.

But as Tom escorts Kendall up to the building with the trainers, something twists in my gut. 

It wasn't the hit that took him down. It was something else.

Tom saw it. The rest of us should have.

But we didn't want to see it.

We didn't want to believe anything could take a big guy like Kendall down.

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