“Don’t worry ’bout it, son. What’s your name?”
“Everett, sir.” I feel LB trying to peek out from behind me, but I push him back until he’s once again hidden behind me.
“Good name. How old are you, Everett?”
“Nine, sir.” The man gives a low whistle. “Shoot, kid, you’re a straight-up giant.”
It’s at this point that I lose the battle with LB. He pops out from behind me with his hands on his hips and his best glare aimed directly at the man in front of us.
“And just who the heck are you? Don’t you think you’re a little old to be walkin’ up to random kids and askin’ all kinda questions?” he snarks. I just sigh and hang my head. There’s no reining him in now.
The man looks shell-shocked for a minute before he snorts and erupts into gruff laughter. It takes him a good two minutes to calm down enough to speak again. “Who’s the Chihuahua you got there, boy?”Uh-oh.
“Chihuahua?!” LB screeches. I quickly slap my hand over his mouth and pull him into a bear hug. His struggle is half-hearted and over quickly, but the way he squints in my direction tells me I’m in for it later.
Still holding on, I respond to the man. “This here is Cooper. He’s nine too, but, um, what can I do for you, sir? My momma says I really ain’t supposed to be talkin’ to strangers.”
“Your Momma’s right about that, son. My name is Carl Harris. I coach football at the junior high. You’re big enough to be a twelve-year-old. I was comin’ over to talk to you about playin’ for me, but you got a few years yet.” Carl pauses and looks like he’s thinkin’ awfully hard. “I suppose you could start practicin’ with us now. Then you’d be an absolute beast when you do finally make it to junior high… Yeah, that sounds like a dang good idea. What do you say, son?”
LB beats me to the punch. “You want Teddy to play football?” He snorts before continuing on. “You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree, mister. Football is for dumb jerks. Teddy is too smart for that. Plus, he would never play a sport where he could end up hurtin’ somebody.” I was so distracted by Mr. Harris that I didn’teven notice LB movin’ my hand from his face. He hasn’t left my arms, though.
I start to respond, but I get cut off by the bane of my existence. “The runt is right, Coach. Everett is too weak to play a real man’s sport.”
I feel my face flush, and LB stiffens in my arms. “What did you just say, Bennett Miller?” he says, voice cold as ice.Crap.
“I said, Everett, here is a little girl trapped in the Hulk’s body. A total waste,” Bennett sneers.
Before I can even react, LB has ducked out of my hold. Running at full speed, he makes sure to drop his shoulder just before making contact with Benny. They both fall to the ground.He’s gonna be right proud of makin’ two tackles in the same day.LB is quick to get back up. The green tint to Benny’s face lets me know that Cooper, bony little thing that he is, got him real good. LB rears his leg back, not above kickin’ someone while they’re down, but I snatch him up quick before he can make contact.
He is full-on raisin’ cane as I carry him away. “—better not catch you around no time soon, Benny. I swear you got one comin’.”
I hear that gruff laughter from Coach Harris again. “Shame that boy ain’t bigger. He’d be one hell of a player. Bennett, get your ass up off the ground. I can’t have my quarterback makin’ me look bad.”
Everett - Age 10
Cooper spins in the desk chair, staring at the ceiling. He only does this when he’s upset about something but doesn’t want to talk about it. I feel so useless when he gets like this.
“What can I do to help, LB? I know you don’t wanna talk about whatever’s goin’ on with you, but surely there’s somethin’ that I can do.”
“I don’t know, Teddy. My thoughts are just movin’ too fast. When I try to get one of them out, another one pops up. I just need them to slow down for a while.”
“Drawing normally helps you calm down, right?” I ask, a silly idea coming to mind.
“Yeah, but all we have is markers. I don’t like using those as much. They always run on the paper.”
“What if you could color on something besides paper?”
“What else is there to color on?”
“Me,” I say as I hold my arms out by my side. LB just looks at me like I’m crazy.Maybe I am.
“You want me to draw…on you?”
“Sure. Why not? You used to love doing those connect-the-dot things. I’m like one giant connect-the-dot with all my freckles. Or you can just call it a tattoo. Either way, I’m here. Color on me.”
Excitement shines in his eyes, telling me he’s interested. “Okay, let’s do this. Take your shirt off and lie face down on the bed. I’ll get the markers,” he says.
I follow his instructions, and the bed dips as he straddles my hips. “You gotta be still. I’m gonna be mad if you make me mess up.”
