Second Down - Chapter 23

Wednesday was the first chance I was going to have to practice with Li. She’d had tutoring until almost dinnertime both Monday and Tuesday, and I still had a lot of studying to do for the week, between school and watching video. As part of the extra work I’d asked Coach for to start making improvements, he sent me home Saturday with video of the game, and I was supposed to make notes in specific formats and bring it back to him so he could see how I was evaluating the game.

What that really meant was watching the game several times through, once making general notes and sections to look at, then at other parts, even playing them at half speed so I could really focus on finding the strengths and, more importantly, weaknesses in our gameplay.

It was an interesting assignment, and I was actually learning a lot doing it. At least, it felt like I was, and that I was making progress in practice, starting to see the patterns from the game and then on the field without the coaches having to point it out. It wasn’t everything. It probably wasn’t even most of the little errors and tendencies our guys made, but it was some.

We didn’t really have scouting videos of the other teams, although Coach said varsity did, at least in playoffs, though. So mostly, it was for seeing our own errors and mistakes than using it to predict the other team.

“Looks like you’ve got a fan club,” Mickey said as he jogged the ball.

We were off to the side working with Coach Easley, our offensive coordinator, on short five-yard passes that Coach Holloway liked to run as part of the push and grind game Coach preferred. These tended to be quick passes, but they also had me throwing into heavy traffic, which could end in interceptions if I wasn’t careful. It’s what had gotten Jorden in so much trouble in the first part of the season.

I looked over at the stands and saw Li sitting up several rows wearing basketball shorts and a baggy T-shirt, looking mildly uncomfortable with her backpack perched on her knees. I gave a wave, and she waved back kind of shyly.

“Not a cheerleader, just my friend. She’s trying out for the girls’ basketball team, and I’m helping her train.”

“Hey, don’t have to get defensive with me,” he said, grinning and putting more into the statement than he said out loud.

“Sims, get your head into practice,” Coach Easley yelled, whacking the back of my helmet.

“Sorry, coach,” I said and went back to throwing.

After practice ended, I waved the guys off as they headed to the locker room and went to the stands. I knew I’d be meeting Li, but I thought we’d meet at the court, and I didn’t want to keep her waiting, so I’d brought my bag out with me. Some of the guys made some kissing noises at me as I headed to the bleachers where Li was coming down to the field to meet me, which caused her to blush.

“Don’t mind them. They’re idiots.”

“It’s okay,” she said, but I could tell it was making her very self-conscious.

We made our way down the track and off the field and down the sidewalk to circle the building where the basketball courts were set up behind the teacher’s parking lot. They were also the tennis courts and sometimes even volleyball, but usually tennis, since the basketball and volleyball teams usually played inside the gym.

That meant, for us right now, that a tennis net was stretched down the half-court line, which basically kept us only to half court, but that was fine. It wasn’t like we were doing a pickup game or anything. Later on, if we needed more room, we could go to Frazier Park, but it usually had people playing pickup games after school until it got too dark to see.

That might be good once I needed to see her play against other people, but for now, we’d work out the basics.

“You’re really good,” she said suddenly. “At football, I mean.”

“You were watching the whole practice?”

I hadn’t realized she’d been there long enough to see me throw more than a handful of times. I thought when the guys called her out, she’d just arrived, since I hadn’t noticed her before, and even though Jorden wasn’t starting anymore, he was still getting to throw in practice, meaning I spent a lot of the time after I noticed her just waiting around while he got to do his thing.

“Most of it. I don’t know much about football, but even I could tell you throw really well. And you’re fast. You were outrunning a bunch of those other guys out there.”

She must have been there early because we didn’t scrimmage at all today, and the only time we’d run was at warmups and then doing some sprints before breaking into groups with the coordinators while Coach Holloway worked with varsity.

“Thanks. I think I could do even better if Coach would let me be more mobile. You know, scramble when it makes sense, pass more. But that’s not my call.”

“Why not? Aren’t you the quarterback?”

“It’s complicated. High school football has a lot of... politics. Coach Holloway likes a specific style of play. Conservative. Ground and pound.”

“That sounds painful.”

I laughed. “Four our runners, more than me, since they have to keep charging headfirst into the other team’s line. But hey, we won last week, so I can’t complain too much.”

“Still, you looked really good. Like you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Thanks. I’ve got a long way to go though. Especially if I want to make it to the NFL.”

“Is that what you want? To play professionally?”

“It’s all I’ve ever dreamed of.”

Actually, it’s all I’ve ever dreamed of twice, technically. In this life and in the dream life.

“That’s ... kind of amazing actually. To know exactly what you want like that.”

“You don’t?”

“I mean, according to my mom, I’m going to Harvard to become a doctor. But that’s not exactly my dream.”

“Basketball?”

“Ha,” she said, laughing out loud. “No. I mean, I like to play and if I could play in high school and college, that would be great, but no, I have no dreams of being a professional athlete.”

“Then what?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t think I’ve really thought about it. It’s just been, do viola lessons, do Chinese lessons, get A’s, get on honor roll. Just the next thing and the next thing, following the plan put in front of me.”

“Don’t you think maybe you should consider what you want to be doing? I mean, it’s your life and you’re just starting. Do you want to look up in thirty years and realize you’re living your mother’s life, instead of my own.”

“No,” she said after a long pause. “But it’s also not that simple. It’s … it’s a Chinese thing. It’s hard to explain.”

“Okay. I won’t push. Just think about it. Yea?”

“Yeah.”

We got to the court and, thankfully, no one was there. It wasn’t that huge of a surprise. There weren’t lights, so we had maybe an hour of playtime before it got too dark, and most people didn’t want to cut games short once they got going.

“So, I talked to one of the guys on the varsity boys basketball team about what tryouts are like and what you should expect. Sorry, I don’t know any of the girls on the team, but one of the JV guys knew him and so connected us.”

“What did he say?” she asked, her normal reserved demeanor slipping for a second.

“So it’s two parts. One is running everyone through drills to see your fundamentals, and then they’ll split you all up and scrimmage, so they can see you play. We can’t really do the scrimmaging because there’s just the two of us and all that,” I said, waving at the tennis net at half court. “But we can at least work on the fundamentals.”

We started with dribbling exercises, or at least what I thought were the exercises. I’d watched a fair amount of basketball in my dream life and I talked to some people over the last few days, which wasn’t the same as actually knowing what I was talking about, but it would have to do.

Li seemed to be really good at handling the basketball. She had a ton of control, switching hands easily without looking down at the ball, something I couldn’t do, going in between her legs, and even changing hands behind her back at one point.

“Where did you learn that?”

“Some guys I played with at the park back home thought it was cute having a girl wanting to learn basketball, and kind of adopted me. They taught me all kinds of stuff and had me practice.”

“Ohh, so when I’m calling out dribbling drills, you must be getting a real laugh.”

“No! I really app…”

“I’m joking. If you know actual drills, let’s do that.”

She started again, and her drills were a lot more complicated than the ones I’d had her do, including speed dribbles, stopping and cutting back while controlling the ball, and switching from between the legs, behind the back, and around the other side, pulling up for a shot. I didn’t know how useful all of that was, but it looked really impressive.”

We continued with free throw shooting, each of us taking turns at the line. Li’s shots were consistent, with her hitting almost ninety percent of them. I hit closer to fifty percent, and that was rounding up. After that was rebounding, which consisted of me bouncing the ball off the backboard trying to simulate a shot that didn’t go in and her trying to get the ball in one short go.

This was the most questionable of the drills because it was very different than having someone else with you, contesting the ball, but it was what they’d told me would happen at tryouts, so it’s what we went with.

Again, she was really good at it, always seeming to know where the ball was going to bounce and getting a hand on it. It helped that she was tall, but even with that, she was really good at getting into position.

Finally, we tried some contested shooting. She’d start a few steps back and come in for a shot, and I’d get my hand up in the way, not really trying to block it, but trying to make the shot harder. She was really solid close up, but her shooting in the mid-range was closer to seventy percent with my hand in the way, and that was again, not having anyone really putting pressure on the ball, trying to move it, and a whole team operating around you. I’d heard somewhere a good shooting percentage was in the forties, which made sense with everything that would be happening.

Although I didn’t know if that was true or not.

She was a lot worse from behind the three-point line, only hitting two out of ten shots. None of that seemed to matter to her. She was grinning and having a great time. It was the happiest I’d ever seen her. The serious, no-nonsense girl had completely disappeared, and a kid just having a good time took her place.

She was glowing.

“Having fun?” I asked during a water break.

“So much.” She was practically bouncing on her toes. “I forgot how much I loved this.”

“It shows. You’re really good, Li. Like, really good.”

“Thanks.” She ducked her head, but I could see her pleased smile. “My mid-range game needs work though. I can post up all day, but if I want to be more than just height under the basket...”

“Yeah, it and your three-pointer are definitely weaker, although I wouldn’t say they’re terrible.”

“Three’s don’t matter as much. I know I’ll be playing post. But being able to hit those elbow jumpers would make me harder to defend.”

“Okay, well I guess we know the areas we need to focus on next time. Speaking of which, we should probably wrap up. Same time Friday?”

“Definitely.” Li gathered her things, then paused. “Hey Blake? Thanks for this. For helping me, I mean.”

“No problem. That’s what friends are for, right?”

“I guess maybe that’s true,” she said, a weird smile on her face.

***

Saturday, the game against Cooper High went a lot like the last game did, although with a much closer result. The biggest difference was that they were a much better defensive team than Trinity and had our standard short game locked down.

Not that it stopped Coach from continually trying it.

The only good part was that their offense was much worse than their defense, and our guys were able to lock them down. It helped that their coach seemed to come from the same school as Coach Holloway and kept to a short game.

At least I got to throw two long passes this time. Neither resulted in a touchdown, and the running plays that followed them got shut down. Still, I got a solid twenty-three-yard pass in the second quarter and a nineteen-yard pass in the fourth that got us close enough that instead of punting, we got to kick a field goal, which is how we won 10-7.

It felt extra vindicating because this was my second time playing against them. But I didn’t have Elijah trying to burn the offense down this time.

“Good game, Blake,” Andre said from the other side of the bus aisle as we made our way back from Amarillo.

He’d been one of the few upperclassmen who hadn’t given me grief when I moved up to JV. Not that they’d been mean, but he’d avoided the hazing.

“Thanks.”

Not that I thought I had a lot to be congratulated on for the win. My two real passes didn’t get us a touchdown, and I’d even avoided scrambling beyond just getting out of the pocket when it collapsed so I could get a short pass off.

“If Coach would let you air it out more, I think we could have won by more. Three completions out of the last four, that’s nothing to shake a stick at.”

“I suggested, but I think every QB suggests they should get to pass more, so I’m not sure it counted for much,” I said, shrugging.

“Maybe. But anything would have been better than just smashing face first into their D all night.”

“Tell me about it,” Joe said.

Coach had him just pounding it in over and over all night, and he’d taken a hell of a pounding. I felt kind of bad for him. Still, we’d won two in a row, and everyone was in good spirits, joking and having a good time.

It was amazing what a small winning streak could do.

When we pulled into the school parking lot, Andre leaned over and said, “Hey, we usually hit up Silver Spoon after games, win or lose. You should come.”

I knew they’d done that, but I hadn’t taken it personally when I hadn’t been invited the last two times. They didn’t know me, and I was an interloper. It felt good to get the invite, though. Like I was finally part of the team.

“Sure.”

“Cool. Need a ride? I’ve got room.”

“That’d be great. Just need to call my dad real quick, let him know.”

“No problem. I’ll wait by my car, it’s the blue Civic.”

“Give me five minutes,” I said, hustling off the bus.

As I climbed off, Coach slapped my shoulder and said, “Good game tonight, Sims. Way to manage the clock.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

I might not say the same thing about his play-calling, but a win was a win, and I’d take the accolades.

I jogged into the field house and into Coach’s office, which he left open for players to be able to call him when the buses got back from away games. Dad answered on the third ring.

“Hey, it’s Blake. Some guys invited me to the Silver Spoon and are going to give me a ride over. Can I go?”

“Yeah, but see if you can get a ride home when you’re done or call me to pick you up, okay?”

It was a short walk from the diner to our house, but it was already ten, and it was a good guess we’d be there pretty late, so I understood his concern.

“Sure.”

“Okay. How’d you do tonight?”

“Good. We won, although it was close. Coach let me throw two long passes.”

“Good job. I’m proud of you. Okay, have fun tonight and call me if you need a ride.”

“I will.”

I hung up, grabbed my stuff, and jogged out to the parking lot. This kind of an invite was a big deal and the last thing I wanted to do was screw it up by taking too long and them leaving without me. I’d been playing with the team until now, but I hadn’t really been part of it yet. I understood that. I was the only freshman on the team and a late addition, but this could go a long way to making things easier.

Thankfully, Andre was next to his car, talking to Nathan Huff, a junior and one of the backup defensive ends, and Spencer Marshall, a senior and one of our linebackers.

“Sorry to keep you guys waiting,” I said as I jogged over.

“No sweat man. Throw your bag in the trunk and let’s get going. You’re in the back with Nate.”

These were three of the biggest people on the team and Nathan took up a good part of the back seat. The diner’s parking lot was already filled when we got there, with cars filling most of the parking spaces, small clusters of players, cheerleaders, and even some students who’d just come to watch the game gathered together near cars with open doors, music blasting out of them.

It was like a party.

The inside was even more wild. Every booth was taken and the few regular people not part of the group seemed a little shell shocked by the sudden deluge of teenagers around them. Every booth was overfilled and most had kids just hanging around next to them, talking.

There were people everywhere.

I thanked Andre for the ride and broke off, squeezing into a booth with Miles, Mickey, Jerry, and Joe while Andre and the others went to join the defensive guys.

“That’s two,” Jerry said when I sat down.

“All thanks to our new freshman,” Miles said, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me.

“I’m just handing the ball to these two and standing back. I’m not sure much is thanks to me.”

“You’re our good luck charm,” Jerry said. “And besides, now that they’re figuring out you can throw, they can’t just all cheat up and beating up on me and Joe.”

“I don’t know,” Joe added, rubbing his hurt shoulder. “Felt like they were beating up on us pretty good tonight.”

“Yeah, but they stopped so much after that first pass in the second. Besides, isn’t this better than getting beat up and losing?”

“I guess.”

“Hey, you could always go talk to coach,” Mickey said. “I’d be all for more long passes and less waiting for you guys to get ground into the mud.”

“I bet you would,” Jerry said.

The argument over passing or running went on like that for another thirty minutes. That’s the way it went. We were all a team, but inside that team offense and defense were two separate groups, and on the offensive side, the line and the backfield, mostly because in practice we broke into those groups and so that’s who we spent the most time with. And in the backfield, it was running backs versus receivers, with me being lumped with the receivers, since I wanted to pass the ball versus handing it off.

Everything was a competition, no matter how far down you drilled.

We didn’t really eat meals, but most of us got drinks, milkshakes, and snacks like onion rings and baskets of fries. I wasn’t sure how that worked out for them, being packed but not selling full meals, but this late the diner was usually pretty empty, so maybe on balance it made sense.

Freddie the owner didn’t kick us out and it had been a Mustang tradition going back forever, I think, so we all kept coming.

We kept up, going back and forth on why passing or running is better, and getting into it with the defensive guys, who started shouting across the diner that the only reason we stayed in the game was cause they locked down the other side. They had a whole chant and everything.

While they weren’t wrong, I wasn’t going to let them come after the offense like that, and joined in shouting them down. It was all in good fun and we were having a blast.

All the shouting made me thirsty, though, and finally I got up and headed over to the counter to get a refill. There was only one waitress working this late and while we’d all leave some cash to make sure us being a pain in the ass wasn’t too bad, I didn’t want to add to her stress by asking her for it.

Also, it would have taken forever, since it was work to keep up on all the refills for the fifty or so kids packed into the place.

Even at the counter, I had to wait a while for Freddie to get to me.

“You were amazing tonight.”

Melanie Barlow had materialized next to me, her long blonde hair falling in perfect waves. I’d had a weird, déjà vu kind of thing when she’d waved at me last week on the field, remembering how hard I’d had a crush on her. Will have? Will have had?

“Uhh, thanks. Though most of the night was just handing it off.”

She waved at Freddie pointing to her drink. I couldn’t help but notice it was still half full. She didn’t actually need a refill. I realized she’d used it as a pretext to come and talk to me, which caused my stomach to do a little flip.

“Come on, those passes though? And the ones in the last game. Everyone knows you’re the thing this team needed. We’re all talking about it. They’ve lost all season and, once you joined, they start winning? Nope, be as humble as you want, that’s no coincidence. I think we could really start winning if Coach Holloway let you start playing for real.”

“I’m not being humble, I’m just not trying to take away from what everyone else is doing. And I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen. Coach keeps a pretty tight leash on the playbook.”

“I guess,” she said, shrugging. “So how are you liking JV so far? Must be weird being the only freshman.”

“I thought that might be true, but it’s actually been pretty great. The guys have all really accepted me.”

“Yeah, I noticed that. I mean, you’re here tonight, right? So how’s the year treating you? We’re in Mrs. Mace’s class together, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

I actually knew so. I’d definitely noticed her in class, but I thought she hadn’t noticed me. Why would she?

“What did you think about that poetry assignment? I thought it was kind of brutal.”

“Yeah. I just don’t have the brain for it.”

“But you’re taking all those classes, right? Trying to get out of the remedial stuff and move up? You can’t claim you’re not that smart.”

“You know about that?”

“Everyone knows. We see you being assigned all the extra homework and getting tutoring from that Chinese girl.”

“Li,” I corrected.

“Sure. So anyway, I was thinking…”

“Melanie,” one of the other cheerleaders called from across the diner, interrupting her. “Come on, we’re heading to Katie’s!”

“Just a second!” Melanie called back before turning to me. “I should probably go. But this was fun. Maybe we could study together sometime? You could show me that big brain of yours.”

I swallowed hard. “Yeah. Sure. That’d be cool.”

“Great,” she said, smiling and lying her hand on my arm for a second, squeezing before letting go. “See you Monday!”

She flashed one last smile and bounced away to join her friends, leaving my head spinning. What had just happened? More importantly, what was I going to do about it? The memory of future-me’s crush on her was crystal clear, the way it had consumed sophomore year, how devastated I’d been when she’d started dating a senior.

But that was a different timeline. A different me.

Things could be better this time.