Playing The Game

Practice and the Drivers Ed Teacher

   Felt like whipping something up!

   Not the best, but thickens the plot.

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   I am in split formation, loosening my tense muscles before a long and sweaty practice. The girls are spread out, being captain I trust they can stretch properly without my aid. After all, we've done this for years, they know what they should be doing. Rolling my neck to relax it, I lean forward and lay my arms over the turf grass.

   "Avery, please!" Austin begs.

   The entire week he's tried feverishly to convince me to take his place at tomorrows game and be the QB.

   "Austin, no." I mic-mick his desperate tone and smirk to myself.

   He sighs and a shadow overcomes his face, "I didn't want to mention this but I have to. Av's, my ankle is seriously messed up. I cant play on it, I can barely even walk."

   I take in his soberness, "You aren't kiddin', are ya?" He shakes his head.

   I sit up, this changes things, big time. I can't let him play while he's injured, that's inhumane and cruel. Makes sense why he's told no one of his hurt ankle; not only is his ego too large for that but he'll be benched till it heals. My dad isn't the type of coach to force a player on the field if they're injured, in fact he's quite the opposite.

   I debate for a second, "I have to cheer."

   "Tell the girls you have a hot date. They'll let you go and you won't have to explain much. Just say you want to try things out with this guy." Austin gave a perfectly logical answer.

   "What if I get thirsty?"

   "Avery, you know perfectly well how to use a damn straw."

   "And if I have to talk?"

   Austin gave a fake cough, making his voice sound funny, "Sore throat."

   I narrow my eyes, "You've given this a lot of thought."

   "I've had all week."

   I stand and shake my head, "Austin, I cant do it. So many things could go wrong. What if the helmet falls off? What if I get too hot? What if they figure out its me?"

   "Then you give them the finger, put on your big girl panties, and carry on."

   "I can't do an entire game Austin, I just can't."

   "Stop being a drama queen." He mumbles. Girl feelings aren't Austins area, then again what man could be bothered to deal with such atrocious matters.

   I stare at my best friend, "Alright, alright, I'll do it. How have you been practicing?"

   "Acting as if I'm not in that much pain."

   The next day the student body is pumping with excitement for the upcoming game. Walking the halls with Austin felt like walking with a celebrity. Everyone, all the cliques, pause to wish Austin their best. For the day Austin is a king, a hero, a person others look up to. His plane react to this amount of admiration proves how modest my friend truly is. Austin would reply to each peer by giving them a sly smile and champion-like wink. Even a few teachers showed their support. Austin didn't have to take the pop quiz in American History, Ms. Teller gave him homemade cupcakes, even a janitor high-fived him. Its incredible how such an event can bring so many close.