American Dream

Chapter 5: Hand of humour

Chris 

'Hey, kid.' Mr Jones said as he re-entered the room. 'I just read your booklet. I hear from your coach that you're committed to being the world top in the 5000Meters.' 

'Yeah.' I said, slightly abashedly. 

'You have to trust i that dream, man. I know life ain't fair. So it's your own job to be fair to yourself. Just wondering, why did you hit Jax.' 

'He's an arse. Thinks he's The Man, but I get really irritated over time. It's lasted 2 years.'

He passed over a soda. 'You taking it?'

'Coach'll skin me alive. He's a pleasant fellow, but he said since I told him I wanted to become the world's best, there are sacrifices. I still sneak the odd KFC when nobody sees though.' 

Mr Jones laughed. 'I won't tell him that. Look, I was bullied for my skin colour in the past. I may not have been an athlete, but I realize now how much we have in common.' 

'Really?'

'Both social outcasts. Both triggered by pent-up anger. Both ambitious to break out of poverty. I could tell that you weren't in the in-crowd by the first meme in that slideshow.' He laughed hoarsely. 'But, the American Dream, still exists, I assure you. However, just a word of advice. Find some friends. I hear you're a little lonely.' 

'Carter's nice, I guess. Nobody else. I haven't got the time.' 

'Your coach arranged study hall, behind everybody's backs, I hear. You got any weak subjects?'

'Math, Physics.' 

'I can tutor those. I'm no expert, so it's laid-back. Always here if you need counselling.' 

With that, he left the room, leaving me stunned in grateful silence. 

Carter

That very next day, Chris was liberated from ISS, a more upbeat character. 

'What's up with you. Real spring in each step! Huh?' 

He grinned at me. 'I guess I've got  a bad lot in life, but I define how it impacts me. I suppose. It still can be good for me, you know?'

I chuckled. 

'S'ppose. They gave you any food in ISS?'

'Nah. I swear, the only time I got food is the bag of chips from Mr Jones. He gave me a soda and a sandwich from the vending machine. Coach Colin wants to fry my butt, but I have until training. I've got a good feeling. If I impress him tomorrow at the workouts, then he has to keep quiet.' 

'You really skipping homecoming?'

 'Yeah.' He said, grabbing his books and tossing them inside his bag. I peered over at his locker. A piece of paper entitled. 'Be your best. Run Your Race.' plastered in tape. 

'I wish I were as good as you. The college scout took one look at me and shook his head.' 

'You think it's easy, huh?' He replied cynically. 

'It's the painful experience that hurts. All alone.' 

Carter

I gazed into my phone, flipping through countless flicks on my cell, before Chris passed my table. He plonked a can of Gatorade down and a bottle of chewing gum. 

With a swift swipe he captured my cell phone. 'Heck, what you looking at?'

'I've got problems with my World History homework.' 

'There's google, you do realize.' He said, popping open the can, which fizzled at the top. 

'I know, I don't know how to explain it.' 

'I can give you a hand. So, you just demonstrate the implications, link the event, and then give it back to your initial statement.' 

'Easier said than done. I wish you could do my work.' 

'You've got to do it yourself. If it's science I'd let you copy, because we won't get caught. This time, a little risky, you know?'

'You could write an entire alternate essay-'

'Which would be an utter waste of time because I have to reply to Nike within the next 24 hours. They said they'd contract me for now, and coach as well, but on the condition I took part in the PreClassic 2 mile.'

'How should I put this: Dear Nike, I love the Alphaflys which definitely should get banned and hence I don't use them. The Oregon Project was 100% drug-enhanced, and heck half your athletes are arrogant pricks (cite Kobe Bryant)'

I laughed right out loud in study hall as I ate from the bag of crisps we shared. 'How to not get hired tips 101!' 

'But seriously, is it meant to be long or short. I can't think of anything interesting.' 

He clacked away on his laptop, finally with a final click he sent it, before reading it aloud. 'Dear Nike, Thank you so much for your recognition of talent. I am keen on contracting with Nike, and have a digital signature to the document. I will continue to train with Coach olin Smith, and am keen on running in the PreClassic. I'm eager to get a decent time and a good position in the top 10. 

Yours Sincerely, 

Christopher Brown'

'That's nice.' 

The figure of somebody with long wavy hair approached me. Evelyn. 

'Hey, Chris you don't mind lending me your presentation for a second, do you? The one for liberal arts.' 

'There's a price.' Chris said. 'You know the vending machine. I want the Turkey sandwich. In return, I'll help with any work you want me to do.' 

'Ah, a brilliant business idea, Mr Brown.' Mr Jones said, clapping from behind us. 'Unfortunately for your business endeavour, there are rules to adhere by. Perhaps you might want to alter your approach to advising, instead of profiteering.' 

'Can't quite be detention, Mr Jones.' 

'Yeah, I understand. No, not detention. I'm more civilized than that. If you still want to market, give me an essay on integrity versus monopoly. Submit it by this Friday. Otherwise, I'd leave you off.'

He patted Chris on the back, and everybody cracked out laughing. 

'Lovely plan, man!''  I said, chortling with laughter. 

'Can't believe I didn't notice.' Chris said, shaking his head. 'Ah, I guess that was funny. Anyways, I don't think I can quite help. I'm failing mathematics.' 

'Really?'

'It's really low. If I can't get a scholarship, my college plan is out of mind. Then, my Dad's efforts will be for nothing.' He grumbled, sighing, before setting down and continuing his essay on Coastal landforms.