SHOOT| ✓

Coach Atkins

"ALRIGHT BOYS, IT'S BEEN A LONG SEASON BUT IT'S OVER. AND IT'S BEEN A PLEASURE TURNING YOU SISSIES INTO REAL MEN."

It's Thursday afternoon, at least 30 degrees Celsius, I'm surrounded by sweaty football players, and drenched from head to toe in my own perspiration. Today marks the end of my career as a Quarterback and my football career as a whole. Can't say I'm happy about it because football was the last real thing I had in high school. I look around at my team member's faces, memorizing as much as I can before they walk out of my life for good.

There's Ravi, Ryder, Christian, Harris, Adam, and a whole lot of beefed-up guys with dull academic transcripts. Who am I to judge, right? Mine isn't so stellar either.

I partake with the others in our ritualistic chants and grunts, dumping gallons of water on one another, laughing because it's over.

It's finally over. For some more than others.

"Jack!" Ryder slaps me hard on the back and almost sends me toppling to the grass. "How're you feeling, man?"

"Like a legend," I say as enthusiastically as possible. He never used to ask how well I felt. That's because we used to be best friends and he just knew. Not anymore, and it's disheartening. We start the journey, but we don't get to finish it sometimes.

"You did well out there," he smiles, "Every damn game."

"So did you. You always had my back." And it's the truth. Since the very first day on the field, he's been there. My fullback.

"It's been a good show, Jack," Ryder's smile isn't as full as it was at the start of the conversation. I think he's realized the totality of it all. We've come to an end. "As much as this makes me sound like a pussy, I'm gonna miss you."

"You don't sound like a pussy," I tell him, smoothing back my hair from my eyes, "You sound like a real man, Ryder."

His brown eyes dim. "Thanks, man. I'll see you, I hope. Don't... forget me, okay?"

"Why would I forget you?"

"Because you've been ignoring me these past few weeks. And I stayed away because I thought you didn't want me around."

I kick the earth under my feet. "That's not true. I do want you around. I... ever since you got with Steph, you've been..."

"I know. I'm sorry. But..." Ryder gathers his thoughts, exhaling deeply as he pushes his damp hair out of his face. "Let's hang out tonight. Or tomorrow. Whichever you prefer."

"Tomorrow?" I ask.

"Tomorrow," he confirms.

He studies me for a moment before putting his arm around my shoulder. "I'll see you, yeah?"

I feel a flicker of hope in my chest. Maybe we can be friends again. "Yeah, that sounds good."

I nod and leave it at that. One last hug and he's gone, but I didn't miss the brushing of his cheek against my own cheek before he vanished. I watch him jog towards the back doors in his jersey, the seven letters of his last name being all I have left to remember him. Gretzky, a name I won't ever forget no matter how hard I try.

Coach Atkins and a few other boys clear up the field after our last practice. I just stand dead center and overlook as it all happens, feeling pretty out of place now that Ryder's really gone.

But I have one person who hasn't left yet, and it's Darcy Ivanov. The same girl who I just so happen to be gravitationally drawn to.

I walk towards her figure by the bleachers, but she's too busy adjusting the camera in her hands to look up at me.