We all cheered. The airbrakes hissed, the door hinged shut, and the bus lurched into motion, but Coach Bentley stayed standing, swaying as the bus mounted the speed bumps at the parking lot’s exit.
“Some of you have been asking about recruiters.” She glanced around, her eyes lingering on Gabe. He was, empirically speaking, our best player, and had a real chance of getting scouted. “I suspect there will be some today. I know it’s pointless telling you not to feel pressured. But I hope you’ll remember that this isn’t a singular opportunity, for any of you. There will be other games, other recruiters, and other paths to the future you want. So just get out there, play hard, and have fun. Go Chargers!”
“Go Chargers!” we shouted.
The bus bounced as we got onto the highway, and the guyssettled into the ride, playing on their phones or talking or, sometimes, shouting from one end of the bus to the other.
In front of me, Gabe and Jaden speculated about which schools might have scouts at our game.
“Probably UW and UO, at least,” Jaden said. “Maybe Idaho?”
Gabe laughed. “Do they have schools in Idaho?”
“No idea. Hey, Darius.”
“Yeah?”
“Who do you think is gonna be at the game?”
“Oh,” I said. “I dunno.”
I was a junior. And besides, I was a defender. No one ever paid attention to defenders.
Plus, like I said, I was pretty sure college wasn’t for me. I knew Mom and Dad wanted me to go, but I just couldn’t see myself being happy there.
Across from me, Chip frowned at his phone, thumbs jabbing the screen. He huffed, crossed his arms, and stared out the window.
I watched him for a second, and then looked out my own window. It was one of those perfectly clear fall days where you can just barely make out Mount Hood to the east. I watched it as best I could, my view interrupted by billboards every so often, but the back of my neck prickled.
Chip huffed again, and then sighed.
I leaned across the aisle. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, but he kept his arms crossed and his shoulders up around his ears.
And then he said, “You’ve got a sister, right?”
“Yeah. Laleh.”
“She ever do anything that just makes you want to, like, murder her?”
“Not really. She’s nine.”
“Yeah, well, that’s okay then.” Chip puffed his cheeks and blew out a heavy breath. “My brother was supposed to look after Evie tonight, since Ana and Jason both have class, but now he says he’s sick and wants me to do it instead. Like I could just turn this bus around. Like our game calendar isn’t on the fridge.”
“That sucks,” I said.
And then I said, “Who’s Jason?”
“Jason Bolger? Evie’s dad?”
My brain executed a swift and painful change in inertia.
“Is he related to Trent?”
“Yeah, Trent’s brother. Graduated when we were first years?”
I had about a million questions.
