Senior Slump Or Comeback Of The Year

Number Nine

Patrick didn't understand football at all. He tried to keep up with what he was watching on the field. But nothing was making sense. They were all running around in different directions, tackling people who didn't even have the ball, and yelling at the referee.

Andy seemed to understand what was going on. Probably because he'd been forced to watch this ridiculous sport since he was young. He got as excited as the people around them. Jumping up and muttering curses when the other team scored.

"Are we winning?" Patrick wondered out loud.

"You're damn right we are." Andy cheered. "End of the fourth quarter. Eight points ahead. This is our game!"

Oh. Cool. "I didn't know you liked football so much."

"I love football. I just hate the people in this school enough to stay away from the games."

Patrick nodded in understanding. They had that in common. The hating the people in the school thing. He stared at the confusing field again. Watching a smaller boy get tackled by three different players. He got back to his feet slowly. Slightly limping off of the grass. This sport was too dangerous for Patrick's liking. You could get seriously hurt. Why would Pete want to play this? What if that limping man was Pete?

"Which number is Pete?" He found himself worrying.

Andy spared him an eyebrow raise and a sideways glance. "Nine."

Patrick spotted him immediately. He didn't look as small in his uniform as he did normally. And he was fast. Managing to dodge every opponent chasing after him. Was that genetic? Would their baby be fast? He closed his eyes and pictured it. A small child with Pete's eyes, running around his front yard. Almost too fast for Patrick to catch. He, his mother and his father would all still chase after him. Laughing. Out of breath.

Maybe Pete could catch him. But Pete wouldn't be there of course. He wouldn't even know there was a kid walking around with his looks and speed.

An eruption of screams scared him out of his fantasy of the future. The bleachers around him were shaking as his schoolmates jumped around in joy. Apparently they'd won the game.

Cool.

"We need to get out of here before they start to riot or something." Andy joked.

"Let's go." Patrick agreed.

"Andy!" The commanding scream came from below them. Thy both looked down to see his father standing there with his hands on his hips. "Get down here and help me pass out the towels and Gatorade."

"Don't you have a guy for that?" Andy called back.

"Yeah. You! Get down here now!"

"I'll be right back." Andy rolled his eyes. "Wait for me upstairs by the lockers."