Chapter Twenty-Two

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Fraternizing with the Enemy
Chapter Twenty-Two
Reed Archer
Two weeks later, first day of school

A permanent scowl was stamped on my face as I hobbled in the doors of Harrison High School. I hated this school. I was a bit temperamental so I never had many friends. Micah was my best friend and one of my only ones.

Not that he was here right now. He had surgery a couple of days ago and was on bed rest. He'd be back in a couple of days. Didn't make today any better. I hated first day. The only good thing about the first day was the fact that there was no homework. Other than their dumbass syllabus' that is.

I crutch my way up to my locker and open it. It was empty, as predicted. I put my binders and stuff I'd need in the locker. I shove my bag in there and slam the locker closed. I head towards home room and sit down. School officially started in a couple of minutes. I pull out my phone and see no notifications.

That asshole didn't text me. I hold in a pout. Being the bigger man, I open our messages and type out a greeting.

Hey asshole

It takes him awhile to message me back. Three very long minutes to be exact.

Hey, what's up with you? Why are you pissed off?

How dare he? He doesn't even know. Asshole.

Wanna do something tonight?

Like a date?

We just went on one the other day.

My parents aren't going to be home and my sisters going to her friends for a sleepover. You wanna come over?

What time are your parents going to get home tonight?

Sometime late.

And what do we do if they come home while I'm there?

You can hide in my closet

Or under my bed

Or I can sneak you out the window

Better yet we can both sneak out the window and go somewhere else

I wait impatiently for him to text back. The bell rings and he doesn't text me back. Oh that little dickwad will get an earful tonight. How dare he ignore me. He should know better by now.

The bell rings a moment later and I slump in my seat. Mrs. Hill walks into the room. She was the one of the only English teachers the school had. There were four. One for each grade. Math teachers weren't so lucky. They only had two of them. History teachers weren't much better. They had three. We did have a lot of science teachers, though. Six of them to be exact.

Mrs. Hill had had me the other three years and had never liked me. I had this itty bitty problem with school, I don't like homework. I get everything, I was smart but I just couldn't force myself to do the homework. Which is why she'd been trying to catch me cheating for the past three years. I don't cheat, I just test well.

I know the second she noticed me sitting there. The glare she already had on her face intensified.

"For those of you who don't know, I'm Mrs. Hill. I will be your English teacher this year. We will start with attendance then move on to the syllabus. Alright, Mr. Archer I already saw. Paige Baxter?"

"Here!" The presumed Paige Baxter raises her hand. I decided I didn't like her. She looked annoying.

"Good, I saw Miss Brett and Mr. Covington. Owen Crest?"

She continues roll before handing out the syllabus. It was the same as last year. There was a spot at the bottom for parents to sign since they don't trust us. Once the bell rings, I shove the piece of paper into the folder I had brought to put all syllabus's in.

After English I had math. After math I had AP bio 2, then I had music. Then lunch. After that I had history. I had doubled up on science classes this year, so sixth hour I had a forensic science class and during seventh hour I had gym.

My councilor has insisted I don't take a blow off senior year. I was already regretting it. By the end of the day, I did not want to go to football practice. But of course, I had no choice. It pissed me off because I couldn't even play. I needed to play this year. It was my senior year and playing football was the only way I was getting into college. Looking back, I probably should have tried harder in my classes but it's too late now.

I plop down on the bench and huff, putting the crutch beside me. Coach walks over to me. We always chat before practice.

"How's the foot, Archer?"

"It's fine. I have a doctors appointment tomorrow. She should be able to tell me when I'll be able to play." I sigh. I hated waiting.

"At least there was no surgery with this one." He tries to brighten. I shrug. We enter a awkward silence of him watching me and me avoiding looking at him. "How long?"

"How long for what? I just said I'll find out tomorrow when I can be back." I snap.

"No, how long has your ankle been bothering you before you broke?" He knows me too well.

I shrug, really avoid eye contact.

"Awhile. I know when I can push it though."

"How long?"

"Since I broke it the first time. It's not that serious. I roll it every now that then. I played on it when I probably shouldn't have at camp. I won't make the same mistake twice." I finally reveal. I hadn't told anyone that. I usually just dealt through the pain.

"You don't play through injuries, Archer. Especially not when you have your type of talent. You could make it far. But only if you heal first." Coach lectures causing me to clench my jaw.

"Isn't being good enough to make it more of a reason to play through the injury?"

"Not if it could end your career."

I scowl and look away.

"Anyways, enough of that. Listen, today I want you to watch our plays. Look for weaknesses. We'll talk some more after practice."

"Fine."

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