When the rains may come (Science Fiction)

43. Before the game begins

Zack arrived on the school playground, sporting his brand new studs and socks. Their coach was an ex-military type with a close cropped buzz cut and a hard, intense stare. He looked a tad too serious to be on a middle school playground.

The other boys on the ground had already regrouped with their usual friends, back in their cliques, chatting among themselves. Zack found them tedious to deal with. They made unfunny cracks only other members of their faction could laugh at and mostly their laughs came at someone else's expense. And someone who didn't share their weird sense of humor was mostly shunned out of the group.

Zack had vague memories of going to elementary school before the bombings began. He wasn't sure if that school had been as tedious as this one. He wasn't sure if any of his classmates from those days had grown to be as tedious as this bunch. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure if any of them were even alive right now.

Zack left the boy-groups to enjoy their own bad jokes and approached the coach. "Good afternoon, coach," he said, craning his neck to look up at the tall man.

Coach Grundle gave him one quick glance and looked back at the field. "Teddy Chambers, the new kid. What do you want?"

"Nothing, I came to wish good afternoon."

Grundle was puzzled. "That's it?"

"That's it." Zack shrugged.

"Well, good afternoon to you too, Chambers." Grundle gave a quick nod. "Don't you wanna go and discuss some strategy with your friends?"

"They aren't my friends."

Grundle gave the slightest frown. "Then it seems like you won't be able to have much fun with the game," he said. "Football is a sport that is enjoyed more when you get along with your team."

"Oh." Zack frowned. So football was going to be just as boring as being in the class with the rest of these guys.

Grundle looked down at him. "Look kid, even if you may not like these other boys. At least try to work with them. Who knows? You might actually find some friends in the process."

Zack nodded absently. "I'll try. Thanks, coach." He walked away.

Zack hung out by the corner of the field on his own for another fifteen minutes. That's how long Grundle waited before blowing his steel whistle. "Everyone, line up! We are about to begin."

The boys fell in two straight files in front of the touch line. Zack stood at the last spot. "Is everyone here?" Grundle boomed.

"Wait for me, coach!" A voice called out. It was Arthur. He came running up the ground with frantic movements, slender as a scarecrow in his T-shirt and shorts.

The other boys giggled among themselves. "He runs like a girl."

"He looks like he is about to cry."

"That's how he always looks."

"Pathetic."

Zack rolled his eyes again. He found their quips as unfunny as ever.

"Arthur Barks, why are you late?" Grundle boomed.

"I-I...I was changing...in the locker room," Arthur said timidly, his finger balled into fists at his sides.

"You gotta learn to be on time if you wanna be on the school team, Barks. Now get in the line."

"Y-Yes, coach." Arthur nodded and came and stood behind Zack. "Hi, Teddy," he said quietly.

Zack just nodded in greeting, frowning while the boys ahead of him still suppressed their giggles.

He remembered his mother's words. Stay away from Arthur, honey. Trust me on this one.