I have three basic rules to live by
Don't draw attention to myself.
Make it through another year.
My brother's friends are off limits.
My junior year, each and every single one of those rules will be broken.
**~~**
Blaine has always been the type to...
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The physical trainer apologized for the thirteenth time as she strapped two gallon sized bags of ice to my shoulder. When I had told her that my arm was killing me she was instantly worried. Something about over using the muscles and making them prone to a major injury was muttered as she guided me to the trainer's room after I had grabbed my clothes from the locker cubby I had left them in.
"Ladies only," she shouted as a knock came from the door. All the blinds had been closed to give us privacy, while also giving the boys' theirs. They were supposed to be getting changed, just like I was.
"Coach wants to talk with us. All of us." My brother's voice, though muffled by the door, was clear as a bell.
"She's about ready," the trainer said. Her eyes instantly began darting around the room. They snapped back to me, wide and frantic, when I jumped off the table and headed for the door. "Lester."
"What? My top half is covered," I gestured to my sports bra, "It'll be fine."
She crossed her arms, silently scolding me as she trailed behind me. The chatter that had been filling the room softened when I entered. I could feel the trainer's disapproving glare boring into the back of my head. The same look my brother was quick to give me. His lecture was cut off as Coach cleared his throat.
"That was one hell of a show you put on out there," Gilly announced with a thumb pointing over his shoulder to the door. "I won't lie. There were a few moments when I thought you were intentionally racking up the flags. Trying to give them an advantage. Something changed in you. The drive you had to make the plays happen. The power you had to stop them short each time. That's what I would call a damn good effort."
His eyes shifted to a section of locker cubbies that hadn't been used. The remaining coaches flanked either side of one cubby in particular. The dark pieces of wood stood eighteen inches tall with the shape of our home state in the center. A piece of glass with the thin lines of a player's silhouette etched into it made it look elegant in a sense. The IHSA emblem was above it, and a placard was on the base. Our name wasn't engraved into it yet. That didn't seem to matter. It was in our locker room. It was surrounded by our team. It had been presented to, and then hoisted into the air by, our team captains.
Lucas, Shane, Joseph, and Finn were grinning and roaring in victory. The crowd and the rest of our team answered back in an obnoxious fashion. Keegan was standing beside me, marveling in the same respectful silence as myself. Any more yelling today I would be left literally speechless.
The last quarter had been more than difficult. We were left with desperate acts and countless adjustments at the line. My brother and his defensive teammates were ruthless as they fought back against the powerful advances. Lucas had managed six sacks by the end of the quarter. The high he was experiencing could be seen from space.
Shane, Corey and I were brainstorming on the bench any chance we could. It hadn't taken them long to figure out our basic plays. We had switched over to the random ones we'd cooked up throughout the season, but those could only buy us so much time. We needed action plays. Something would both throw them off and get us the yards we needed in the moment.
