Meant to be Broken [boyxboy] [Watty Awards 2012]

Chapter Five

The next Monday was Columbus Day and the archery team's first tournament. Ives wasn't sure how he was going to manage it after the binge he'd had the night before. If it hadn't been for his mother and sister arguing he wouldn't have made the foolish choice to drink the night before a tournament. Ives knew, before practice even started, that he was going to regret not having sunglasses. It was a perfect autumn day; close to seventy degrees and blindingly sunny. It wasn't going to help his headache go away any faster.

He suffered through the traditional team photo, sweating in his violet and black Raynor uniform, kneeling in the front row – where he didn't want to be. It was one of the rare times when he was aware of his slight lack of height; he was only five-foot-seven, whereas most of his male teammates were closer to six feet – or more – in height. So it wasn't a huge difference, but he still didn't belong in the back row.

Not only was he one of the most visible members of the team photo, but he was also chosen by Mark Salazar, the captain, to help scout the other teams during warm-up. He could hardly keep his violet and black fletched arrows from flying off-course in his physical state, and he was expected to watch the competition, too. When he gave his turn over to another teammate to practice, he did his best for Mark.

Their position on the field was between the team from Walton and the bright new team from Madison. He took special notice of them – he knew the returning stars of Walton already. At first he wasn't worried about the new team, but it soon became obvious that they had just as many decent archers as Raynor had, and the Madison team only had just enough people for a team. There were only ten of them. Raynor had fifteen, starters and five subs.

"Any observations?" Mark asked him as warm-up came to an end.

Ives rubbed his aching head and motioned toward Madison. "The new team looks slightly dangerous."

The captain nodded. "Yeah, that Carson chick looks like a freaking robot. Kashmir guy too."

"S-K isn't half bad, either," Ives added. "And a couple of the really young looking ones. White and Smith."

"So they have two that could destroy us, three that are respectable, and five fillers," Mark observed.

"Who I rarely saw miss, but never get close to center," Ives pointed out.

Mark took a deep breath and nodded. "Walton lost Pace Richardson.”

Ives rubbed his head again. The asprin he had taken wasn't helping. "I didn't think he was a senior."

"He would have been this year," the captain explained. "His family moved, I heard. Anna Scot told me."

Of course he'd be talking to that slut. They always hooked up after tournaments. "They lost their best man, then. We might have a chance."

Mark nodded. "Are you okay?" he asked, looking closer at Ives.

"I'm fine," Ives lied. "My head just hurts. I didn't sleep well."

"Well, Coach is watching you, just so you know," Mark warned him quietly.

Ives glanced around and saw Coach Johnson making his way to the coaches' meeting. The last thing he wanted was to get the man's attention. He wasn't Ives' favorite person in the world to begin with.

But it was too late. Even though Raynor took second in the tournament, beating both Walton and Madison, Coach Johnson called him out of practice the next day to confront him.

"You looked a bit sick yesterday," he began. "Just like you did at practice on Saturday."

"I didn't feel well," Ives admitted, avoiding the ex-star football player's gaze and wishing the man had been given the job coaching the football team instead of the archery team. The man was clearly bitter about it. "I don't sleep well."

"Right," the man replied, arms crossed as he stared down at one of his best archers, "make sure you sleep better when we have weekend practice. Tournaments especially. I wouldn't want to pull you out because you're sick. Try going to bed early."

Ives nodded. Archery was all he had, and he was suddenly terrified of losing it. "I will."

"Good," the coach declared. "And, Fay, if this continues, I'll be taking your jersey back. Before the season ends."

Ives nodded again. If there was anything he cared about anymore, it was this. Archery was an excuse to not be home. And it was the only thing he enjoyed.

Over the next two weeks Ives was more careful, mostly releasing his emotions by cutting instead of drinking. He was glad that the weather was getting cooler so he didn't overheat in his hoodies at school. There were a few nights when he needed more of an escape, and turned to the alcohol he now kept in his closet, buried in a cluttered corner amid toy cars, a Game Boy with corroded batteries, and stuffed animals. He had Kylle to thank for his secret collection.

He managed to avoid being too sick for practice or school, except for the day that he missed his first period History exam. His mom thought he had the flu, and called the school before leaving him by himself to go to work. He'd had to make the test up the next class, and passed by pure luck. He nearly collapsed with relief when he saw that he'd passed, and was therefore still passing the class – failing a class meant ineligibility for sports, and both Mark Salazar and Coach Johnson would murder him if that happened with the next tournament racing up on them.

He also managed to pass his road test by a margin even slimmer than that which he passed his History test with. He was surprised when the old woman handed him his temporary license when they returned to the parking lot, after being convinced that he had failed.

"You passed by one point," she had said, noticing his look. "Just be a bit more careful."

For the first time in Ives' life, they didn't bother with Halloween that year. They kept the porch light off and didn't bother buying candy. Ives hated it, and he would have bought candy to give to the kids himself, except that he didn't have a ton of money to spend, and probably wouldn't until he found a job for the summer.

If he got through the school year.