4

Liam

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Blue Harbor Can Go All the Way! Again!

–Harbor Times

Blue Harbor Boys’ Basketball Aiming for a Championship Repeat

—Bleacher Report

Liam Carter is the #1 High School Point Guard in the Country for the second consecutive year!

—USA Today

Zach Dawson, #1 High School Power Forward, considering Duke for college

—ESPNU

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I stare at the headlines as they scroll by on the screens at the pre-season pep rally. Each one spurs cheering from the crowd, and an even louder chant of “Go Blue Go!”

The entire team is sitting in the center of the gymnasium, flocked by the school band on one side, and national reporters on the other. I used to actually look forward to the pep rallies, but the closer I got to senior year, the more I realized how stressful they really are.

Every reporter aims to be the first to break the news of where Zach and I will be heading for school, and we’ve both promised not to confirm anything until the end of the season. It’s what’s best for our sanity. Well, at least it is for mine.

“Liam, over here!” A local reporter shouts at me and I turn in her direction, giving her a fake smile I’ve perfected since my days in middle school. I hold it long enough for her and a few others to take the photo, and then I turn around and focus on the screen of headlines again.

“You could at least pretend like you want to be here.” Zach says under his breath. “Look at all the girls from other schools that are here...This is the last time.”

“That’s all you’ve been thinking about this whole time, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.” He laughs and I shake my head. Zach has always been more into the media circus that comes with this game than me.

I scan the crowd and look for my Dad, knowing he’s somewhere taking endless shots with his camera. Minutes later, I spot him sitting near the middle of the bleachers, shaking hands with a college recruiter I’ve met once before.

All of a sudden, the slideshow of news comes to an end, and the lights above return to their full brightness. The crowd erupts into deafening screams as our Coach stands and heads to the podium at the center of the gym.

“Good afternoon!” His first two words alone elicit screams. “Thank you to the amazing students of Blue Harbor High, members of the media, and members of our community who are here today. We want to thank you for coming to our pre-season rally, which is, ironically in the middle of our football season for some reason. I don’t think our football team is that bad this year, are they?”

The football team laughs from the stands. They’re currently undefeated for the fourth year in a row, and attract just as much media attention as we do.

“I have a few words to say on my team’s behalf, and then I’ll personally introduce each one to you.” He smiles. “And then we have a month and a half before our true season work begins! To give you a bit of a recap of last year...”

I tune out the rest of his words, scanning the crowd again and finding Ashley. Dressed in her varsity cheerleading uniform, she’s immersed in her phone and talking to her teammates. It takes all of ten seconds for her to look up at me and wave.

I wave back, and she blows me a kiss I don’t return.

We won’t be together anymore after this rally is over...

“And now...” My Coach’s booming voice cuts through my thoughts. “Starting with our phenomenal bench, which is currently ranked number one as well...Coming in at five foot eleven with...”

I watch as he announces each player one by one, as the cheers reach a new deafening level with each new name. When he reaches the starting lineup, the principal brings him a second mic.

“Introducing our power forward, the number one power forward in the country...” He smiles. “Zach Dawson!”

Zach stands up and waves at everyone in the bleachers, putting on his best “All-American” smile. His ovation lasts for over five minutes, and I spot Mariah jumping up and down and screaming for him.

When Zach finally takes a seat, he nudges my shoulder. “I just saw someone I’m going to try and leave with after this. I’m pretty sure the girl sitting next to her is her twin if you’re interested in coming along.”

“I’m good,” I say. “You can have them both.”

He smiles at the idea and I’m pretty sure he’s going to go for it. I’m tempted to tell him I actually will go with him, but before I can think it through, I hear coach calling out my stats.

“Six foot four and the number one-point guard across all the high schools in the country...” He pauses, letting the screams reach another fever pitch. “Liam Carter!”

I stand and wave at the crowd, making sure I stand still long enough for my dad to snap my picture. I look toward where Mariah was and notice that she’s now sitting with her arms crossed, refusing to clap for me as usual.

Laughing, I turn and make sure I’ve waved at all sections before taking my seat again.

The rest of the rally passes by in a short and uneventful blur. The band plays the fight song, the coach formally announces our game schedule, and the principal tells the media and the students to join him and the rest of the staff outside for the official bonfire.

Since I’m skipping the bonfire and have no desire to talk to anymore reporters for the rest of the night, I give all of my teammates a handshake and tell them I’ll see them at practice tomorrow. I start making my way toward Ashley so I can finally get this over with, but my dad suddenly steps in front of me.

“You looked good, son!” He holds his hand up for a high five. “I’m very proud of you, as always.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you doing anything tomorrow morning?”

“You mean, besides school?” I ask.

“Well, yeah that.” He pats me on the back, laughing. “I was talking to a recruiter from the University of Memphis who came all the way here to see you. He has a flight tomorrow afternoon, but he wants to have us over a five-star breakfast to talk about his program with us.”

You mean with ‘you’... “I have a test in Literature tomorrow. I doubt the teacher will let me skip it because some random recruiter wants to treat me to eggs and bacon.”

“Not just any recruiter, Liam.” He looks into my eyes. “The University of Memphis. A top twenty program. And the Four Seasons sells way more than eggs and bacon.”

I don’t say anything. I just stand there as the crowd starts to push past us, as my father waves away reporters who attempt to get a word from me.

“Look,” I say, trying to keep my voice polite yet firm. “I’ll talk to him, but I’m not missing the test for it. Can we do it at six in the morning?”

“That’s my boy!” He claps. “Absolutely. See, how compromising you’re becoming when it comes to simply entertaining these people? You’re going to look back at this next year and be grateful that you did. You’ll be more grateful that you didn’t do what I did when I was in your shoes.” With that he walks away, his fingers tapping against his phone’s screen to make a call, and for the umpteenth time in my life I regret being born to a man who failed at his own college basketball dreams. A man who is attempting to vicariously re-live them through me.

Sighing, I resume my search for Ashley and find her in a huddle with her teammates.

“Well, hello there handsome.” She steps closer to me and gives me a hug. “Were you waiting on me to walk with you to the bonfire? How sweet!”

“Awwww!” Her teammates say in unison.

“Actually,” I say, “I wanted to talk to you alone for a minute.”

“Okay, definitely. In your car?”

“No, let’s just...” I grab her hand. “Let’s just go into the hallway for a second.”

Her friends “Ohh” and “Aww” as if this is romantic, so that only makes me want to get this over with even sooner. I pull her around into the senior hallway and make sure no one has followed us.

“Are you about to tell me you love me, Liam?” She slips her hands into the pockets of my letterman jacket, pressing her chest against mine. “Is that why you’ve been so quiet around me lately?”

“I’m about to tell you that I think we need to break up.”

Her eyes widen and she steps back. “WHAT?”

“You heard me.” I grab her hand again and pull her close to me once more. “I don’t think this is working out.”

“I don’t—” She shakes her head. “I don’t understand. Everything was fine all summer and even these first few weeks of school. Is this because I vomited on your favorite shirt? I apologized like three times for that.”

“No, its just...” I try to think of a way to put a positive spin on any of the negative things that have happened between us, but I can’t think of a nicer way to end this. “We’re just not right together, and I think deep down you know that.”

Tears fall down her face and she moves away from me. “I can’t believe you’re dumping me before homecoming. Actually, I can’t believe you’re dumping me at all. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“I promise there’s not.”

“Is it another girl?”

“There is no other girl, Ashley.”

“There has to be, unless...” She wipes her eyes. “Are you secretly gay? Because like, that would explain a lot of things. You’re gay, aren’t you?”

I should’ve done this over the phone... “No. I’m not gay, Ashley.”

“Let me get this straight then.” She narrows her eyes at me. “We’ve spent almost every day together all summer, you’ve taken me out every weekend, and we’ve both finally decided to join collective forces as the best Mr. and Miss Popular this school has ever seen, and all of sudden you just want to break up? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I would still like to be friends, if that’s okay with you.”

“Fuck you.” She hisses. “We are so not going to be friends. You are on my shit list, and you of all people should know what you have to look forward to for the rest of your year here.” She starts to storm away, but then she suddenly turns around. “Did I leave my bright pink water bottle in your car yesterday?”

I nod.

“Well...Can you give it back to me tomorrow?” She clears her throat. “After that, you will officially be on my shit list.” She lets out some type of strange grunt noise and storms off.

A part of me wants to follow her, to make sure she and her friends aren’t going to cause some type of scene at the bonfire, but I walk in the other direction and head to the parking lot. That part of my life is over.

At least, I hope it is...

***

The following morning, I reach a new level of restraint when it comes to my dad. Somehow I’ve managed to keep my thoughts at bay while at the breakfast with the recruiter, and outside of “That sounds great,” “I’ll definitely arrange to have a tour of your school,” and “I’ve always wanted to visit Memphis,” I haven’t said much else.

Instead I’ve watched and listened as my father has heaped praise on my stats, waxed poetical about his own days as a high school star, and subtly asked about how much scholarship money the university has at its disposal.

The “however much it takes to get your son to sign” is the answer. My dad’s favorite answer.

As the waitress steps by our table to retrieve our plates, I lean back in my seat and cross my arms.

“Do you have any questions for me, Liam?” The recruiter looks at me with hopeful eyes. “You’ve been rather quiet this morning.”

“Honestly, no. You’ve answered everything.”

“Great.” He looks over at my dad. “Well, Mr. Carter, is there anything else you have to ask?”

“Just a few more things, Mr. Yates.” He starts to ask about the best time to schedule a weekend visit and I pull out my phone.

I have an hour before school starts, and I have five unread text messages. Opening my inbox, I groan as I notice that all of them are from Ashley.

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Ashley: You’re an effin douchebag, Liam! I can’t believe you broke up with me after a pep rally! A. PEP. RALLY!

Ashley: I’m glad we never had sex. Your cock is probably small as hell anyway. That’s probably why you didn’t want to do anything with me. You KNEW I would expose you for having an itty bitty penis.

Ashley: Itty bitty penis. Itty bitty penis. ITTY. BITTY. PENIS!

Ashley: Are you at school yet? Where do you want me to meet you so you can give me my water bottle back?

I stifle a groan and roll my eyes. I start to send her a few choice words, but a new text message pops up.

It’s not from Ashley, though. It’s from Mariah.

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Mariah: Are you not coming to school today? You could’ve at least told me you were going to ditch our first partner exam so I could’ve given the teacher a heads-up. You know we’ll both get Fs if you don’t come...

I hit reply.

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Me: I am coming to school today. Not everyone chooses to get there an HOUR before it starts...

Mariah: Well, maybe that’s why I’m number one in my class...

Me: No, that’s not it. I’m tied for number one in my class and I’ve never been lame enough to get to school that damn early. Relax.

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I text Ashley that she can meet me in the senior lot for the water bottle and put my phone away. “Mr. Yates, it was nice meeting you,” I say as I stand. “Dad, I’ve got to head out. My study partner wants to go over a few things before our test this morning.”

“Of course son, of course.”

I shake Mr. yates hand, knowing damn well I’ll never pay Memphis a visit, and then I tell my dad I’ll see him at home later.

Heading straight for my car, I slip behind the wheel and make sure Ashley’s water bottle is still on the backseat. I take my time driving to school, cruising down the winding roads that are in far view of the lake, contemplating my next move with every mile.

When I pull into the parking lot, Ashley is standing in front of her white car with her arms crossed. She waits for me to get out, but instead of reaching for the water bottle, she reaches for a hug.

“What are you doing?” I step back.

“I’m putting an end to our fight.” She shrugs. “I don’t want us to be mean to each other in texts anymore, and I want us to get back together.”

She can’t be serious right now... “Take the water bottle, Ashely,” I say. “We’re never getting back together. Ever.”

“Is it because I said the ‘itty bitty penis’ thing? I was just angry.”

“It’s because a lot of things.” I’m on the verge of losing it. “But the main reason is that I just don’t want to be with you anymore. I don’t even think we could possibly be friends or associates anymore.”

“Okay, so it was the text messages...” She says softly. “I’ll try to talk to you again when you’re not so mad. I’m willing to give you another chance.”

I walk away from her before I say something I regret. And as soon as I’m inside the building, I bang my fist against my locker to make sure I can feel something and this isn’t some type of nightmare.

When the pain radiates from my knuckles, I let out a sigh of relief and make my way to Literature class.

Mariah isn’t even in her seat and I start to text her, but she suddenly walks into the room carrying a bouquet of red and white roses. She’s wearing a bright grey dress that clings to her hips in all the right ways. It’s the fourth one I’ve seen her wear this month, and as she walks down her row—every guy in the class does a double take.

She plops down in her desk and doesn’t even look over at me. Instead, she immediately pulls out her cell-phone and starts texting Kelsey. (I know it’s Kelsey because the two of them can barely breathe without telling each other about it. That, and that’s the only other person she texts outside of me and Zach.)

Her phone buzzes against her hands and she answers it, whispering. “Kels, I’ll tell you about it at lunch. My test is going to start in any minute...” She touches the roses. “He gave them to me this morning and asked to call me later tonight. Can you believe it? He’s so sweet...Yeah, I should’ve known. Now I’m actually excited about the date. I think it’ll be great just like you said...Okay, talk more at lunch.”

She ends the call and finally looks over at me. “How long were you sitting there?”

“Long enough to hear you talk about a date. So, that was actually true the first time I asked you?”

“Yes and no.”

“It can’t be both.”

“Fine.” She sighs. “Yes, it was true and it is a date. With a complete and utter gentleman. Something you wouldn’t know anything about.” She picks up a red rose and twirls the stem between her fingertips. “And yes, the guy in question—who I will never tell you or Zach about, did get me these. Before he even takes me out. He even asked for my phone number so he could call me tonight and get to know me better. You know, now that I think about it, you could probably learn something from him and use it on Ashley.”

I almost tell her that me and Ashley broke up, but I hold back. “I doubt I could learn anything from whoever this guy is, Mariah. And he clearly hasn’t learned shit about you, because last time I checked, you’re allergic to roses.”

“Well, clearly I’m not anymore. That was years ago.”

“Right...” I turn away from her, feeling angry for some reason. I know I have no right to ask her any questions about her dating life, but I highly doubt any guy in this school is worth her time.

Who the hell could she be talking about?

Our teacher walks into the room and passes out the exams, explaining that we’ll share the same grade with our partner, and that we’re not allowed to talk to anyone else in the class until the bell rings.

“If you need my help, just pick up one of my beautiful roses and I’ll happily help you,” Mariah whispers.

“I won’t need your help. Trust me.”

After half an hour passes, I realize that I do need her help on a question. Sighing, I turn toward her and tap her shoulder. As she looks up at me, I notice her face is bright red and she’s holding a tissue up to her nose.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” She hisses before I can get a single word out. “Don’t you say a word.”

“A word about what?” I narrow my eyes at her. “About exactly what you already know about your so-called beautiful roses?”

“Yes, because I am not allergic to them. I’ve just gotten a sudden cold. Maybe it’s because someone opened the window and let in the cold air not too long ago.”

“It’s seventy-five degrees outside.”

“Well, maybe it’s the sudden warm air...”

Jesus Christ... I pick up all the roses from her desk and place them in the metal rack under her chair. “Maybe it’s not the roses after all. Maybe you got sick from being out all night at the bonfire and it’s just now catching up to you.”

“Really? You think that could be it?”

“Fuck no.” I point to the door. “Hurry up and get some Benadryl from the nurse before you die trying to prove a pointless conclusion. You’re allergic to roses, always have been, and you damn well know that.”

For once, she doesn’t argue with me. Sneezing, she stands up and grabs the hall pass, but not before giving me her trademark middle finger as she walks out of the room.