Page 63 of Run Away Home: Tempered

ONE MONTH. ONE WHOLEmonth and they’re still making it work. Valentine’s Day wasdisgusting.I guess it hasn’t been so bad. Of course they still fight, and every time I think “this could be it,” it isn’t it.

I look over at the stands and see Peter and Hayley squeeze by a bunch of other parents. The game is just about to start. They couldn’t have gotten here any sooner?

“HEY, MARCELLO!” Reese shouts.

I roll my eyes and look toward him. He’s always starting shit with me lately. Why? Is it because I’m different than everyone else on the team? I glance at the other players. I’m really starting to think it’s because I’m the only brown kid here. He doesn’t pick on anyone else. That’s messed up.

“EYES ON THE FIELD. I’M NOT LETTING YOU SCREW THIS UP FOR US AGAIN!”

“WE DIDN’T EVEN START PLAYING YET!” I shout back at him.

“WHEN WE DO, DON’T SCREW IT UP!”

He thinks he is such a freaking tough guy. I throw my lacrosse stick on the ground and take off my helmet, walking toward him. He skips backwards away. HA! It’s fun being the biggest on the team. This is the only way to shut him up sometimes.

“Whoa! Hey, man, the game is about to start,” he says.

“Shut the hell up.” I get closer and closer to him.

“Okay! Okay!”

I lean into his face. “If we screw this up, it’s because you’re the one who screwed it up for us. You, with your big freaking mouth. Not me.”

“Break it up! Break it up, boys.” Coach pushes my chest with his forearm. “Any fighting and you’ll both be sitting out this game. Do you hear me, Marcello? No more fighting, with anyone!”

“I hear you,” I mumble. I walk back to my spot and pick up my stick. I put my helmet back on and look forward. Reese is watching me. When I notice, he turns away real fast.

Coach walks to the stands where the parents are. Crap! Don’t go to Peter, don’t go to Peter, don’t go to Peter... Go to Reese’s mom! He’s the bully, not me. Coach waves his hand. Peter looks over at Hayley and walks down the steps. Coach leans against the fence dividing them. Peter’s listening. He looks over at me, squints, then shakes his head. I can just hear him saying, “What the hell, Danny?”

Crap. I face forward and bang my stick into the ground. Take your anger out on the game, take your anger out on the game...

***

THE GAME’S OVER. WElost. Reese screwed it up for all of us. I couldn’t even concentrate because I kept thinking about him. What a shitshow.

Peter’s driving, Hayley’s in the passenger seat, and I’m in the back. The car ride home is quiet, probably because of the coach’s conversation with Peter. I try to look in the rearview mirror to see his face, but it doesn’t work. I think that only works the other way around, so that parents can keep their eyes on their kids.

Hayley rolls down her window. She plugs the USB cord into her phone and turns the volume up to twenty. Great. Time to listen to P!nk again.

Peter says something to her. I don’t know what, though. I can’t hear anything besides the music.

“WHAT?” she yells as she turns to him.

“CAN YOU TURN THAT DOWN?” he yells back.

She turns the music down.

“Why? So we can sit here in silence?”

“Yes. My head is throbbing. Can we just sit here in silence, please?”

“If you have something to say to Danny, just say it,” she says. “You always do this. Just say whatever it is you have to say.”

I lean forward in my seat.

“I’ll talk to him when we get home. Not now,” Peter says.

“What are we going to be talking about?” I ask.

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