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 guys settled 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.
I couldn’t ask any of them.
So instead I just said “Oh.”
Chip blew out another sigh.
“I guess I should be used to this.”
“Sorry.”
I didn’t know what else to say.
I thought maybe Chip didn’t want me to say anything else. Just listen.
Sometimes people just need you to listen to them.
Chip shrugged and turned back to the window. I watched him for a second. The sunlight silhouetted him in gold and caught the fine hairs at the nape of his neck.
My chest gave a little squeeze.
I shrugged myself, and blinked, and turned away.
Our game against Poplar Grove High School was a complete and total victory for us.
I almost felt bad for the other team.
Almost.
Gabe got a hat trick in the first half, while James and Jaden each scored a goal in the second.
We shook hands with our vanquished opponents, and then Coach pulled some of the guys (including Gabe) aside to talk to a pair of track-suited adults in the first row of the stands. I couldn’t make out the logos on their breasts, but it was pretty clear they were recruiters.
As we walked to the guest lockers, Chip put his arm over my shoulder.
He’d never done that to me before.
It reminded me of the way Sohrab always did that to me.
“Good game, huh?”
“I guess.”
“What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “I only touched the ball twice. But Gabe was awesome.”
“Yeah.”
Chip’s arm left my shoulder, but then he put his hand on my back.
“Um.”
“Hm?” Chip said.
“I didn’t say anything.” I swallowed.
The silence between us hummed against my skin where Chip’s hand warmed it.
Poplar Grove High School’s locker room smelled so sterile it made my eyes water, like someone had poured ammonia over every single surface, and then maybe added some rubbing alcohol on top of that, and then filled the sprinkler systems with bleach and ran that for a couple hours too.
The back of my throat burned, and I hacked and coughed as I changed. Chip stood right next to me, radiating body heat and a faint scent of sweat and deodorant as he pulled his shirt over his head.
I slipped my joggers on and got out of there as fast as I could, because I didn’t want anyone to see my erection.
What was wrong with me?
* * *
It