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Small update on author’s life during her hiatus:
Today was homecoming for my school. Went right up against our huge rivals. They beat our asses 26 to 34, huge embarrassment. Can’t believe our district set our boys up for failure.
Monday, I asked a dude on varsity, whose father is the head coach, if we would win. He was very nice and clear, explaining to me that I had nothing to worry about, swearing that we would win. Up to that point, I had always found this kid annoying, but we suddenly got along very well after his promise. Friday morning, I told him I was holding him to his promise, and he said “yes, ma’am,” with a polite chuckle.
So, we lose, awful defeat, yada yada. I attended the game with a friend, and while she spoke to someone who I guess couldn’t bother to say hi to me — fuck u bitch btw — I made eye contact with that same dude.
He looked MORTIFIED. Absolutely pissed off. Helmet in his hand, sweating, brows furrowed, ready to scream. It only lasted a few seconds, but in that small moment of time, I could genuinely feel his heartbreak over the loss of his first homecoming as varsity player. His frustration towards his father. His embarrassment — he had promised a classmate something, and now had nothing to show for it, and at the same time, he had led his team to failure against our biggest rivals.
I think my disappointed frown only pissed him off more, as he scoffed and looked to the ground, tearing up from anger as he crouched down before lining up for the ceremonial “good games” and weak high-fives.
For what it’s worth, I enjoyed watching him play.