Chapter 17: Gulf

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I had been dumped with cold water last night. It was a wake up call. The good thing is, now I can finally concentrate on football and Philosophy.

Philosophy became just like any subject to me again. I have to endure for an hour then move to the next one. I was able to listen to his discussions and look him straight in the eye when his gaze passes my direction. The lessons where actually easier now. His notes helped. For the first time, I actually think I have a chance of passing.

"Hey Gulf." That's my seat mate, "Something looks odd with professor today."

Probably because of the tattooed girl last night. "Oh yeah? I don't see any difference." He's still an arrogant sonofabitch.

"Hmmm, he doesn't look calm today. He looks agitated and he keeps looking at our direction."

Now I'm looking at the professor... expressionless. "Nah, it's just your imagination."

Last night I made an imaginary line between professors and students. Whichever side you're on, you stay there and don't crossover. You just can't cross that line. That's my new mantra. I'll keep on repeating it until my stubborn head finally understands.

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During practice, I goaled 2 times.  I focused on working with my team, giving directions and following through our plan for offense and defense. My team changed the second half. I also worked with our subs to ensure everyone is ready for the game. I sometimes talk to Professor Bennett when he was giving tips and I made sure I took notes in my head. I can't deny that he is really good in football and all advises from him are very much appreciated. The practice went on smoothly and I received a lot of pats in the back because of our progress.

"You're learning fast McQueen," that was the professor conversing with me on our way back to the gym to take a shower.

"Thank you professor. Coming from you, it really means a lot. If you have other tips and maybe a game plan or a strategy that used to work, please let us know." I went ahead to take a shower and to clear my head. Don't deflect Gulf. Focused is good. You're doing good. Continue what you're doing, you are making progress. This imaginary line cannot be crossed. A cool head is always better. I was blabbering to myself just so I don't do anything stupid.

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The night was uneventful. Jag visited me in the dorm and we cleaned my room, including the whiteboard.

The mood was somber, not sad, just somber.

"Jag, how's my mother?"

Jag looked up. He was tinkering/cleaning my game console. He knows me pretty well and didn't ask questions. My mood was probably telling him not to dig deeper. "My father said she's busy. Comes home around midnight. The usual Gulf."

"Hmmmm, that's good."

"You know you can always call your mother if you have problems Gulf. You know that, right?"

"I am okay Jag, besides your father is there to keep her safe."

"You know that my father can only do so much. He is with your mother just until she's home but he doesn't really know what happens inside."

"I know. My uncle loves her though so I'm not really worried. I just want to make sure she's safe when she's outside."

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Wednesday, 2 more days of practice. There was an oral exam on Philo which by far was my most successful exam. It was debate using the things we have learned in logic. Impromptu, no one prepared. But so far it went smoothly. There were a lot of laughs from most of the arguments, including mine. It was a happy class for a change. Everyone was conversing and laughing, just having a good time. We were grouped into fours. I was huddled with my group, our turn just finished, everyone relieved it was over when Professor Bennett approached us.

"Good job team! Your arguments were solid."

"Thank you Professor. It was actually Gulf who made good points."

"Right. Good job Mr McQueen." He patted my shoulder and his hand lingered there.

I froze. I looked at him with a smile pasted on my face ,"Thank you professor." Then very gently brushed his hand off my shoulder. I don't want anyone to notice.

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Practice was the same like yesterday and it seems that the team is more hopeful that we may be able to win the semis. I was the only one not satisfied. I stayed for another hour after practice just working on kicking the ball to the goal until I was fully satisfied. Before sleep, I wrote all possible game-plan I can think of that we can work on tomorrow.  Coach is right, this is do or die. I can't afford any distractions. Before I move out of here, I want to at least try if I can actually do this.

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