To Kill Gods or Die Trying

Rachel Hope

"Ooooooooooooh!" I yell excitedly.

Essej shakes his head in dismay. "It's not even that serious." "You're dating Coach Hope's daughter!" I laugh, barely able to keep up with him to the parking lot.

"Keep your damn voice down!" he snaps, looking around. "And we're not dating. I think she's got good looks, she thinks I've got good looks, and we're hanging out. Don't blow it up. Especially around Coach."

"OK, OK," I yield, "so does that make me the third wheel or the wingman?"

"You're nothing. I'm not trying to do anything serious. She's just a cool person to talk to," Essej replies starting to get annoyed.

"Hey, whatever you say Essej," I tease with heavy sarcasm. We exit the building to the parking lot.

"No way," I whisper in excitement. He's so screwed.

Essej tenses up like a brick as we walk toward his crush. A man stands next to her on the curb; we both know exactly who he is.

"Hey!" Rachel cheers with a huge smile.

"H-hi," Essej replies nervously, trying his best not to be caught in Coach Hope's intimidating stare as Rachel embraces him. The Coach's smile is coated in death and his cheery eyes are filled with fire from Hell itself.

"Hey, Coach Hope!" I say cheerily, maybe trying to screw Essej over. "Hey Ben!" he replies as cheerily with a death glare my way. "Hi

Essej," he says in a sadistic, lowered tone.

I bite my tongue as hard as I can and ignore the pain as tears of laughter brim my eyes. If I laugh, we're both actually screwed.

"So, you guys going out?" he asks, looking us all up and down. "Yeah. Just-just out for lunch," Essej replies trying not to sound nervous, but clearly so.

"Dad, like, you're being super weird. Anyways, we'll be back by, like, class time," Rachel promises.

"Fair enough. Have fun," Coach threatens with a smile, then turns to leave.

Essej's body relaxes and he sighs. "That was scary as shit."

Rachel and I laugh. Coach Hope broke him down easily with that happy death-glare. I can't wait until practice after school. We get into Essej's Corvette hovercar and of course, I have to take the back seat. And he says I'm not third-wheeling...

"OK, Rachel, Ben. Ben, Rachel," he says starting the car with a low roar. He enters the destination on the GPS.

"I've, like, heard a lot about you already. Both of you actually," she replies.

"Really? Oh nice, we're famous," I joke to Essej.

"I mean, like, it's my dad. He, like, really, loves you guys. Talks about you, like, a lot," she explains.

We both grin. "That's awesome," Essej says relaxed.

"Yeah... like, you're not out of the clear hotshot," she says with an evil grin.

"Shit..." Essej murmurs. We laugh at him again.

The self-driving car vertically lifts off into the air, taking the skyway through the merging lane. The bottom current includes hovercars at 500 feet above ground traveling North and South. The middle current includes hovercars at 600 feet above ground traveling West and East. Essentially the "block" system of the 20th century was raised into the air to give way to more infrastructure.

"So, what's it like to be the descendant of the nationally renowned Coach Hope?" I ask, sparking conversation.

"OMG, OK, so, like, my household is freakin', like, consumed by video games," Rachel vents. "Like, don't get me wrong, I love video games—actually ranked Gold II in 6S7-"

"You just got a whole lot more attractive," Essej states. Rachel giggles.

"OK, like, I'm ranked in 6S7 and stuff, and, like, they're fun to play—I mean that's why we play them—but it's like, 'Dad, I wanna focus of gymnastics.' That's my passion—not going pro-league or varsity or even competitive. Like, that's why I'm varsity cheer captain, and, like, even that's amateur hour. I don't mean to brag but, like, I'm way out of their leagues."

"Just tell your dad that you wanna do gymnastics," I propose. "Yeah... I mean, like, it's not that simple," she replies. "Like, he

expects so much out of me from, like, a gaming perspective, but my mom expects so much more out of me from a gymnastics perspective and she, like, wants me to go to the Olympics and hell—I wanna go to the Olympics and like, I dunno, I guess I'm ranting now," she chuckles.

"It's fine. Let it out," I assure.

"Hey, guys?" Essej asks. "Where are we going?"

I frown. "We've been cruising with no destination? What the hell man?" I scold.

"I mean, I put set it to downtown so that we can go to any place we pass by that looks interesting. It's Rachel's choice anyways," Essej says.

"Pssst, Rachel," I whisper, "pick The Thai Saloon." "Ugh, I ate Thai yesterday..." Essej groans.

Rachel looks my way with a devilish grin. I chuckle and nod. "I want Thai, Essej," she wails like a kid. "Pleeeeeease."

"Dammit Ben, you always spread your influence," Essej groans. "Hey, nothing beats their spicy fried rice," I refute. "No-thing. I could

eat that every day for the rest of my life and be a happy man."

"Damn right, like, I love Asian food, Mexican food, and fast food," she agrees.

I can't help but laugh hysterically as Essej shakes his head with a grin. Did she really just say that?

"What? Like, what did I say?" she asks amused yet confused.

I hold my stomach and laugh hard. "She said fast food!" I wheeze.

Essej chuckles.

"What? I love my Mickey D's," she says innocently.

I flex my abs—which are killing me by now—and laugh even harder. What is she even talking about? Tears brim my eyes, as I laugh my ass off.

"Essej, your friend is, like, making fun of me," she pouts jokingly. "Ben, don't make fun of her. She's special," Essej says jokingly. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" she asks.

We both laugh.