Page 74 of Saving the Halfback

“I guess. I hope I don’t epically fail the moment I get out there.” The coach had wound up the whole team this morning, chanting and giving us a big talk about tomorrow’s game. I had hoped the rain would let up tomorrow, but other players were saying it was more fun to play in the rain.

“You won’t. Wear your home jersey to school,” he reminded me.

“I will.” I said goodbye to Lachlan, and just as I turned to back out of the driveway, I spotted Ethan’s backpack. I cursed. It was so dark outside because of the storm, he must not have seen it. I drove back down to the mechanic’s shop, but no lights were on. He likely was on his way home, if not already there.

I drove down a couple of streets, trying to remember which one was his. Ethan hadn’t invited me out to his place often, but once I turned down a narrow road lined with trailers, my memory came back to me. It was hard to see through the rain, but I slowed my truck to a crawl and squinted to try to find the familiar trailer.

It wasn’t his house that caught my attention, though. I slowed the truck to a stop and watched as one guy lowered his fist to the other. I couldn’t believe I was actually seeing someone have a full-out fight in the middle of public. I was torn between whether to flash my lights and scare them away, break up the fight, or ignore it. Maybe I should call the police. This area wasn’t exactly known for its friendliness. Screw it. I flashed my high beams to scare the guy giving a beating, but when he spun around, I saw who was kneeling before him…Ethan.

Blood poured from his nose, and as he looked up in my direction briefly, the man standing over him laid another fist into his face. Ethan fell to the ground, his hands catching himself.

It was an automatic reaction to put the truck in park and jump out into the freezing rain, running over to him. “You givememymoney,” the man was yelling over and over, and Ethan did absolutely nothing to stop it. He just kneeled before the guy. Ethan. Ethan, the one who regularly got into fights. The massive giant that most of the school and some teachers were afraid of. And here he was on his knees, getting the shit beat out of him while he just took it. What the hell was going on?

“I called the cops!” I heard a neighbor yell from their door.

“Keep your nose out of it, Jerry! I will punish my kid how I see fit,” the man yelled back.

That coward. He’d been a coward years ago in the alleyway, and he was still a lowlife coward now. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Stop!” The rain was pelting against my face, but I refused to look away, for fear he would go after Ethan again. I doubted Ethan’s dad was still afraid of getting caught, though. The neighbors hid behind their doors, as if afraid of him.

Ethan caught sight of me, and before I could get in between him and his father, he was on his feet, shoving his dad aside, like he weighed nothing and sending him flying to the ground. Ethan grabbed my wrist. “What are you doing here?” he hissed.

“Why is he doing this?” I looked up at his face. The blood mixed with the rain. His cheek was swollen and lip fat, his nose still bleeding, even as he wiped it with his sleeve.

“Go away,” Ethan growled at me, pushing my wrist away, toward the direction of the truck.

In the distance, I could hear sirens, and that gave me a bit more courage. I squared my shoulders at Ethan and raised my chin. “No,” I growled back at him. I stepped in front of Ethan, using my body to shield him from his father. I put all my fury and anger into my voice as I yelled at his dad. “Leave him alone!”

He staggered forward, as if he were drunk, and squinted in the rain. “Bailey McCormick.” His dad laughed, throwing his head back, as if there was some sort of sick joke. A thick arm wrapped around my waist, and I was being lifted up and around.Ethan forced me behind him just as the police car rounded the corner of the road and came speeding down. “Shit,” Ethan’s dad cursed and turned his back to us, stumbling into the house.

Ethan turned to me, his dark eyes meeting mine. “You can’t say anything,” he pleaded with me.

“What?” Was he nuts? Had he lost it? That man deserved to go to prison.

He took my hand in both of his. “If you say anything, I will be removed from the house. I have another month of this. Once I’m eighteen, I will be fine, I’ll be on my own. Just don’t say anything.”

The rain wasn’t letting up at all as we stood there. The police officer took a moment before he got out of his car and walked up to us. “Ethan,” the officer said. I winced. It’s never a good thing when law enforcement called you by your first name. “Again?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Ethan played dumb, and I frowned. I didn’t have much of a poker face. “Nothing happened.”

The officer looked around before his eyes fell on Ethan’s face again. “Can I talk to you alone? Out of the rain?”

Ethan shrugged. “Nothing to talk about.”

The police officer and Ethan had a staring match for what felt like forever, especially in the rain, until finally, the officer sighed. “Do you have a place to go tonight? Until he at least cools down?”

“He can come to my place,” I said quickly.

The officer nodded. “Go,” he told Ethan. “I have to talk to the neighbor, and then I’ll talk to Art.”

“Don’t. You’ll just make it worse. He doesn’t see the uniform with you.”

The officer frowned. “Well, maybe a night in a cell will do him good.”

“And then I’ll be in a group home. There’s no other place for a seventeen-year-old guy,” Ethan argued.

The officer cursed. “Just go. I’ll deal with it.”

Ethan turned to me, head hanging down, shoulders slumped in defeat. “Do you need anything from the house first?” I asked.

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