Home > Going Under (Going Under #1)(2)

Going Under (Going Under #1)(2)
Author: Georgia Cates

He offered his hand and said, “I’m Dane Wickham, by the way.”

I shook his hand firmly. “Jessie Boone.”

“Yeah, I heard. You’ve got some mad skills. How did you train yourself to throw with both arms so good?” He turned the water bottle in his hand and gulped while he waited for my answer.

The truth was that it was the only genetic perk I got from my worthless parents, but I wasn’t going there with this guy. “I didn’t train myself to do it. I’ve always been able to use either of my hands to do anything.”

“Well, it’s really cool and we’re glad to have you on our team, even if Henderson is acting like a jackass.”

“Thanks. I’m glad to be here instead of Collinsville. My old coach didn’t give a rip about us or if we ever won a single game. He just showed up because it was the part of his job he couldn’t dodge.”

“Hey, water boy! Bring me something to drink,” my new nemesis yelled from across the field. I flipped him off to let him know how I felt about his order. I figured it was better for this to go down sooner rather than later.

“I guess you figured out that’s Forbes Henderson, but ignore him. He was our first string quarterback last year and he’s showing off because he knows you just bumped him from starting.”

This was something we needed to be clear about from the beginning. “I hope I don’t look like I care, ‘cause I don’t.”

The guy laughed and said, “I somehow gathered that by the bird you just shot him. I can already tell this is going to get interesting. You aren’t like anyone at this school.”

“Dude, you have no idea.”

“Wickham, you kicking today or not?” the coach yelled from across the field.

“That’s my only warning. I don’t feel like running laps, so I guess I’ll catch you later.”

“Later.”

Practice lasted three hours and watching Henderson with his mediocre throwing skills made me itch to get out there with the team. I was ready to show them what I was made of; I was ready to show Henderson.

When Coach let us go, I went into the field house to get my jersey and found Henderson waiting for me. After I entered, he walked to the doorway to block me from leaving and said, “That’s a snazzy little trick you can pull, but don’t think you’re gonna just walk into the starting quarterback position, because I don’t plan on giving it up.”

I grabbed my bag off the bench and walked toward him without responding.

As I tried to step around him, he shoved his shoulder into mine and said, “Did you hear me, boy?”

His words and smirk triggered something in me, a reminder of the way Wayne would smirk before he beat me when I was a little kid. I grabbed him by his jersey and pulled him from the doorway, slamming him against the wall of the cement block field house. “Never touch me again. Understood?”

He didn’t respond as he stared me right in the eyes and I wasn’t sure if it was defiance or fear I saw.

“Do we have a misunderstanding already, guys?” I heard Coach ask from the doorway of his office as he stood with his arms crossed, waiting for an explanation.

I refused to lose the stare down and answered, “No, Coach, I think there’s a crystal clear understanding between us. Don’t you agree, Henderson?”

He narrowed his eyes at me and answered, “Yes, I believe Boone and I understand each other perfectly.”

“Glad to hear it. Now get out of here, Henderson. Boone, I need to see you in my office.”

Great. I was the one that was going to get rimmed out. That shouldn’t come as a surprise, it was only natural that the rich kid would get away with murder.

I followed Coach to his office. He shut the door, then told me to have a seat. Shutting the door was never a good sign and sitting meant he had a lot to say, an even worse sign. I prayed he wasn’t about to throw me off the team. I needed this spot desperately, so I inhaled deeply and put on my best pokerface to shield my nearly overwhelming fear of being told to get out.

“Are you aware of the magnificent talent you have, Boone?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I wasn’t use to hearing any kind of praise, but I knew what I could do was special.

“There’s a lot of colleges out there that dream of getting their hands on someone like you.”

I felt like I could breathe again when I realized I wasn’t being shown the door. I admitted, “I’m glad to hear you say that. I hope you’re right because I have to get a full ride if I want to go to college.”

He looked a little torn about what he wanted to say and I felt a stab of nervousness return.

“Boone, I’m a straight shooter so I’m just going to ask you. Have you not gotten the physical because you didn’t know about it, or can you not afford it?”

Every important time in my life has always come to this, the part where I’m forced to admit I come from nothing. I hesitantly said, “I didn’t know about it, but even if I had I can’t afford it. I plan on talking to my boss this afternoon. He might let me have an advance on my paycheck.”

Coach began writing on a notepad and said, “My wife’s brother is a physician. This is his name and the location of his office. I’ll let him know you’ll be coming to see him. He’ll take care of you at no charge.”

No one had cut me a break in my life except for my boss, Earl. I stared at the writing on the slip of paper. “Why would he do that for me?”

“I want you. The sooner I get you practicing, the sooner I can see exactly what I can do with you.”

No one had wanted me my entire life and what I felt inside was foreign. “Thanks, Coach.”

I was glad I wouldn’t have to worry about how I was going to pay for the doctor visit, but I didn’t like feeling like a charity case. I hoped the other guys wouldn’t find out Coach arranged a free physical for me. They’d never finish ragging me about it.

When I walked out of the field house, a lot of the guys were hanging out in the parking lot and more than a dozen girls had joined them. They were all wearing short athletic shorts and T-shirts that read EFHS, so I decided they must be the cheerleading squad arriving for practice.

My new arch rival was holding hands with the hottest one in the group. She was a petite little thing with a tiny waist and a tight shirt to show off her perky br**sts. Her long hair was pulled into the classic cheerleader ponytail and I couldn’t decide if it was brown or red, so I settled on calling it auburn.

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