Donovan King is the impossible. He's the kind of boy that runs with the lions in the daytime and howls with the wolves at night. He's a god in a place where gods dare not roam, with wings of chipped gold and sterling silver.
He's the king of his ver...
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I
d o n o v a n
COACH SAUNDERS WAS A GRUMPY old man who was born in the Paleozoic era, with salt and pepper hair and dull green eyes to compliment his wrinkled skin. He was skinny and short but he packed one hell of a punch, which is probably what gave him the job as Terrandale's senior football coach.
I only say this because he'd cornered me in the boys' changeroom after the game, scolding me for hesitating on the last throw thatscored us our winning touchdown against Bayview's unbeatable team.
He didn't actually corner me, nor did he scold me for it, but it might as well have been that way. What he said was like a slap to the face, followed by a nasty throat punch and a kick in the balls.
The bartender watched as I took another swing of beer, the number of times I brought the bottle to my mouth uncountable. I'd taken a few shots before, but they were too strong. They already made me feel less here, and I wanted to feel like I was here, even if it was just for a little bit.
"How old are ya, kid?" the bartender asked me, narrowing his eyes to tiny slits as he watched me chug down the rest of the bottle.
"I told you Tim," I started, staring at his name tag until my vision started to blur. "I'm twenty-two."
"You don't look twenty-two," he told me, poking and prodding in my business.
Drinking made me feel better when things went to shit. It didn't help that I was a seventeen year old boy and therefore, more prone to the effects of being drunk, but I didn't really care. It wasn't like I went out drinking often, only when I really needed to.
But lately I felt like I did. I felt like I owed myself something after Coach Saunder's explosion, like I deserved a little bit of alcohol to keep my mind at peace.
The idea still haunted me, ghosting painfully at the back of my mind. It was crazy how we took things that killed ourselves when all we wanted to do was heal ourselves.
I wouldn't say a football scholarship was all I had. It wasn't. It was far from what I needed. But I had to make sure everyone knew it was the key I needed to graduate, or else I'd be stumped with crap grades and no good brains to finish off the school year.
That was pure dog shit. I was a genius, though nobody knew it. I never showed that side of me because everybody cared about who I was. Everybody knew my name and how much money my family had and how good I was at football.
Having the fourth highest GPA in my grade mattered to people who thought that it did. It didn't, at least I didn't think so. Everyone thought that it mattered, only because people were nosy and stupid and cruel.
I asked Tim for another bottle of beer. He hesitated before grabbing a glass and filling it with ice cold water. "Have this kid. A boy your age shouldn't be drinking this much."
