Dirt

6

Princeton

I'd forgotten he was here in my life. I got to school too late to catch Roger and Cedar before having to rush to class. I've fallen out of school routine, something stupid seeing as I woke up at six or earlier at least three days a week all summer. 

I know Roger was complaining about his mom getting on to him about looking out for his niblings last night at our last night celebration in the bar. Basil won for the first time in a month, I splurged on soda, and Roger didn't shut up for one fucking second. Based on Roger's telling, you would think Knox and Grace had purposely shown up to ruin his life. Although, I couldn't help but think if it was the other way around.

But still, I had forgotten that Knox and Grace would also be in my life now. Knox specifically, seeing as how Mrs. Kelly was seemingly pushing him into every crook of Roger's life -again, only known from Roger's complaining- and how our school only had so many classrooms.

Narrow it down to P.E. second period. Luckily he was already seated on the bleachers with someone next to him. But his curls and his narrow eyes drew me in to sit at the station right next to his. Today, even less of him was visible. The freckles on the bridge of his nose, that I can't help but wonder what looks like all over, were gone as is his ears. His outline wavered in and out of focus.

When I sat next to him from across the bleacher aisle, I swing my backpack -embarrassing with all the holes sewed closed and one strap safety-pinned back on- onto my lap. I can feel the pull of a bruise on my rib.

Dad isn't usually a very mobile or angry drunk. But the longer and longer he gets trapped in the alcohol the more we find ourselves in the dance of avoiding injuries. His fist, my body. It's alright, he doesn't mean it anyway. Most of the time he's already in blackout mode and I'm stupidly out of my room when he gets worked up. 

I turn my head a few degrees to face Knox with his earphones in both ears. There's no way he would hear me, I can only get his attention by startling him or waving my hand in front of his face. Neither seems like a good idea from the memories of Pizza Hut. 

Before I can decide which one I'm willing to risk, Cedar's voice bellows into the gym

"Hello, Coach Dub, welcome to Physical Education! It's nice having you all in class today, let's make this a good year, yeah? Cut all the safety and health crap and dig right into a good 'ole game of touch football," Cedar taps the clipboard in Coach Windle's hands, tossing a nice and easy wink at our P.E. teacher. Roger rolls his eyes and pushes past Cedar to slide onto the bench right next to me.

Coach Windle was our P.E, occasional health, and basketball coach. The only man in the building who could wear a fat mustache and shorts without utter disrespect. Although Coach Rivers challenges that with her upper lip.

"I'm sure you'd pass first try," Coach Windle rolls his eyes from standing in front of the bleachers before gesturing to the benches, "Have a seat professor, I need to start my class."

Cedar clicks his tongue but slowly strolls up to the bench in front of me, "Just trying to make your job easier. Get a lot more students on your side." Cedar doesn't see how Coach Windle rolls his eyes again because he's already spinning in his seat to face me, "Hey, Prince, word of the day?" 

I think back to the small calendar the boys got me for Christmas last year. I guess you could call me a literary and English freak, so they know just how much I love the challenge of creating a new sentence with a new word each day. That's why they started getting me word of the day calendars nearly four years ago.

"Well, let's just say Coach and I are going to have to stipulate on how to make your life a living hell this year," The bell rings right when I finish with a cheeky grin.