To Protect And Serve

Chapter 2

A shiver wracked my body as I woke up. Even with my only blanket wrapped around me, the cold still pierced to the bone. The flimsy walls weren't enough to keep out the wind and the rain that would come almost without warning. Water stains bore witness to that fact.

I crawled out of bed still wearing my clothes from the previous night. Pulling the clothes out of the backpack I had stuffed them in, I picked a reasonably clean GAP t-shirt and faded Wranglers. I snuck slowly down the hall to the dingy poorly lit bathroom.

Glancing into the living room, I could see my mom passed out on the couch. I thought about waking her, but the thought that she might somehow remember the previous night's bottle smashing caused me to dismiss the thought. It was best just to try and sneak out before she woke.

With the hot water heater only working off and on, my shower was pure misery of hot water followed by a blast of liquid ice. Shivering I crept into the kitchen and grabbed a couple pieces of only slightly stale bread. I was in no danger of gaining weight on this diet.

Slipping out the back door, I headed across the back yard and climbed over the small fence. I had a mile and a half to walk to school. I pushed myself into a slow jog and the morning chill slowly left me as my muscles warmed up.

I was early this morning as I got to the school ahead of the early rush. I went directly to my locker and grabbed a couple books. My list of friends at this school was pretty short. Zero. Even though I was involved in soccer and cross country, I didn't fit the jock title. I was too much of a jock for the nerds. I wasn't gothic so forget that crew. I was the kid that everyone forgot existed. I had really good grades, but even the teachers seemed to somehow forget my existence. I was just the guy who blended in. I liked it that way.

My first class was AP Algebra and I made sure that I entered the room along with everyone else. I didn't want to draw the attention of the snake-like teacher, Arthur Raymond. After sliding into my desk, I allowed myself to just fade into the ordinary blandness that was known as AP Algebra.

The rest of my classes went by the exact same way. I exited my final class, Spanish, and headed for the locker rooms down near the soccer field. I was one of the last of my teammates to enter and I hurried to get into practice gear.

Soccer practice was the same old mundane passing and shooting drills. Coach Santos insisted that even his defensive players had to be able to put a shot on goal with a decent amount of skill. The morning chill and dampness had worn off, and the early spring sun was shining.

The final 15 minutes of practice, Coach Santos always used for scrimmage. I pulled a blue mesh practice jersey from one of the equipment bags and ran to join the rest of the "blues."

My eyes scanned the opponents. They were all familiar players that I had played against since middle school, except for two new guys who had joined the team this spring. They were transfers from a school down in California. They had a decent amount of skill, but were generally ball hogs in scrimmage.

Vince, the taller of the two, kicked the ball off and the game began. Lucas, the other new kid, took the ball and dribbled it slowly up the field toward our goal. One of the midfielders, Jordan, came running in trying to swipe the ball away from Lucas. Lucas' quick spin move pulled the ball out of Jordan's reach. The defense started to collapse in on Lucas then. The other wing, Gabe, tried a tough tackle that Lucas merely dodged. Lucas continued to show off his dribble moves and embarrass the rest of our defense. He finally decided that it was time to take a shot on goal.

He'd just pulled back his foot for a shot when my cleat took the ball away and cleared it to Gabe. Lucas's cleat came through on the follow up and he slipped on the still damp grass. The fall wasn't that bad, but Lucas came up angry.