Friday Night Lights [Zarry]

01: The Waterboy

I sat with my shoulders slumped as I stared at the clock on the wall above Mr Balinski's desk, where he was reading a sports magazine. I sighed quietly, beyond annoyed at the fact that I would never get to play on the football team. Everything I had spent years working for had all just gone down the drain, and it was all because of Louis Tomlinson.

If only he let me be for a few more hours; long enough for me to prove to him that I was worthy enough to be on the team, worthy enough for him to leave me alone.

But no, he had to choose five minutes before we were let out of class to get me in trouble. And my mother wonders why I only ever have bad things to say about him.

You see, the Tomlinson's and my family were good friends. Louis and I were best friends. We were always over each other's houses. But then one day Mark - Louis' dad - left them, and Louis suddenly went bitter.

Since that day, all Louis has ever been is rude towards me, except when we're around our families. He just doesn't speak to me around them unless it's to mumble something threatening to me under his breath as we pass each other.

Finally, I had had enough. I worked hard for this, I was going to the tryouts. 

"Sir, is it really necessary that you keep me in for an entire hour?" I asked. "I'm sure there are better things you could be doing right now."

"The fact that you're in such a rush to get home is the reason this is so enjoyable for me," Mr Balinski replied. 

"But I'm not in a rush to get home," I told him. "I'm in a rush to get to the football tryouts before they are over."

Mr Balinksi slowly looked up from his sports magazine. "You play?" he asked me.

"No, not yet," I replied, refraining from smiling, although I knew I had gotten him. "I was hoping to start this year. I guess now it's too late."

"So you don't play, yet you think you will make it on the team?" Mr Balinski asked, incredulous.

"I've been practicing since freshman year, Sir," I replied. 

Mr Balinski looked down at his cheap watch and then looked back up at me. "You still have twenty minutes left, but you'll make it up to me tomorrow," he told me. Without another word, he picked up his sports magazine and continued reading it.

I nodded, though he couldn't see me, and jumped up from my seat, grabbing my bag and football on the rush out the door. I sprinted down ten different hallways, turning left and then right and then left and then left again, until finally I had made it onto the field where everybody was packing up.

"No," I said, shaking my head in disbelief. "No, no, no!"

I spotted Coach Greenberg from across the field and began sprinting towards him. "Coach," I breathed out, placing my hands on my knees as I tried to calm down my breathing. Coach stared at me as if he was ashamed of me. "I'm here... To try out."

"Sorry son, you're out of luck. Tryouts finished a few minutes ago," he told me. He turned, about to walk away, when I said,

"Please! I'll do anything to be on this team!"

Coach stopped and turned back around to face me. "Anything?" he asked.

I nodded.

"How about give my boys water?" he asked.

"You want me to be the waterboy?" I asked, disgust probably evident on my face.

Coach shrugged. "You said anything," he pointed out. The smile on his face showed me that he knew I wouldn't want to be the waterboy. He had expected me to say no, which is why he offered me the job. He didn't want me on the team.

I had had enough of bullies that day and wasn't ready to let this old one win. "You're right," I said, nodding as I regained my posture. "I did say that. I guess I'm in."

Coach's face fell and I willed myself not to grin in victory.

"Fine," Coach said, unimpressed. "You're the new waterboy. Congratulations. I hope you're happy with this job, because it's the closest thing to being on this team you will ever be."

::

"Hey, Honey, how was school?" Mum asked the minute I walked through the door. 

"Good," I replied.

"And tryouts?" she asked.

"Good," I repeated, walking up the stairs to get to my room.

"Did you get in?" Mum called from the bottom of the stairs.

"Yeah," I lied, before I could even process what I was saying.

"Good on you," Mum said. 

She didn't really care that much about football - or any sport, for that matter - so I didn't bother correcting myself. There was no way she would come to watch me play, anyway. May as well make her proud than disappointed, right?

Author's Note: 

There's no excuse for me not updating this in so long. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me?

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~LPx