competitive, but each made an effort to live by one basic rule: stay away from the girl the other one liked. When abiding by that one simple rule, they usually got along fairly well. Scott scowled. Derek sure didn’t live by that rule.
As Scott approached his friends, his one true rival, Randy, noticed him first. Randy narrowed his eyes, swiped his reddish-brown hair off his forehead, and growled his usual irritating comment. “Nerd, you’re here.”
Derek glowered. “Shut your damn mouth, Randy.” Derek eyed Scott and gave an annoyed expression. “You’re late.”
Scott shrugged. As always, his friend took football way too seriously. As Scott joined Derek’s team, they huddled for the next play. Preoccupied by the morning’s event, Scott stared at Derek who called the next play but Scott’s thoughts were on the girl in the park, wondering about her name and remembering the feel of her touch. He missed Derek’s entire play call. The next thing he knew, he was taking his wide receiver position and sprinting forward after the snap. Great, Scott thought, now I’m really going to irritate Derek. Running deep, he instinctively ran a comeback as the ball sailed past him. Scott groaned silently. He should have run a square out.
After years of playing football with Derek, the two of them clicked. Their precision and accuracy was skillfully executed for the majority of the plays. When Scott wasn’t in the right place at the right time, Derek had no patience for imperfect performance.
At the line of scrimmage, Derek creased his forehead and glared. He walked up to Scott, speaking only to him. “Where’s your damn brain?” When Scott raised his brows, Derek added. “Get your mind into this game and quit thinking about some girl.”
Anytime Scott wasn’t engaged in the game, Derek automatically thought his lack of concentration was because of a girl. As much as Scott didn’t want to admit it, Derek was usually right. His friend knew him too damn well. Scott gave his typical comment which always annoyed his friend. “Relax, I’ll get the next one.”
While the game continued, Scott’s adrenaline started flowing. As a wide receiver, he had the qualities: speed, athletic agility, and great hands, but most importantly, concentration when he wasn’t thinking about a girl. Scott pushed the morning’s event to the back of his mind and spent the rest of the game concentrating on catching Derek’s passes. The passes where Scott didn’t break his stride or the ones that flew through Randy’s hands to his—left Scott with the fantastic feeling of why he played this game. After catching one of those passes, he’d run back to his friend, and he’d slap him on his back. “Great pass!”
Derek would grin. “Let’s do it again.”
An hour later, Derek’s team had a seven-point lead. On the last drive of the game, Derek called the flea flicker, his favorite play. He handed the ball off to Jess who ran left, turned, and pitched it back to Derek who passed it downfield to Scott’s waiting hands.
During this play, Matt’s team played man-to-man defense and Randy sprinted at top speed beside Scott. Thrusting his hands forward, Randy contacted the side of Scott’s neck, tackled him roughly, and threw him to the ground.
Scott hit the earth, feeling as if he had crashed into a brick wall. He gasped for the air that had been knocked out of him. Randy’s additional weight added to the pain. His rival snarled in his ear, “This is my favorite part of the game, nerd.”
Breathless, Scott was unable to answer. His mind wandered to the girl in the park. This was how he felt when she smiled at him.
As Randy jumped to his feet, Scott rolled onto his side, inhaling as his breath slowly returned to normal.
Karl, his conscientious friend, said, “Dude, grab my hand. I’ll help you up.”
As Scott was being pulled up, Derek cussed out Randy. Scott grinned slightly. Derek was a man of the game and despised illegal hits which produced injuries. His friend was in constant battle with Randy who pushed the limits.
As Derek’s face flushed with anger, he forcefully shoved Randy who was looking quite pleased with himself. Derek yelled, “Illegal use of the hands!”
Matt, the peacemaker, stepped between Derek and Randy, but Derek simply thrust Matt out of his way with one arm and then hit his chest. “It’s my turn,” he growled, glaring at Randy who hesitated, obviously working through the idea of another fight. Seeing his hesitation, Derek added, “If Scott can’t play this season neither will you. I guarantee it.”
Randy’s face tightened into a scowl. All the guys knew Randy constantly punched his boxing bags and practiced his fighting moves and was becoming a fearless fighter. Even after all of this practicing, Derek could still take Randy down but it was never an easy task. For that reason, Derek rarely goaded him.
Randy shoved his hands into his pockets, turned, and left the park without a word.
The guys watched him leave. Brett, their unintelligent friend, said, “Chicken.” He faced the guys. “What a wimp.”
“Why didn’t you call Randy that when he could hear you? Maybe you’re the wimp,” Karl chided.
Brett puffed out his chest and stepped forward. “I can beat you up.”
Karl shook his head. “What are you? Two years old?”
Brett made a fist. “Let me punch you. Then you’ll know I’m not two years old.”
Derek growled impatiently, “Knock it off, you two.”
Five minutes later, Derek and Scott walked down Third Street making their way home. Derek tossed the football into the air and caught it. He asked, “Why were you late?”
“Went for a walk.”
“Where?”
“Around.”
Derek asked sarcastically, “Did you go looking for your missing part?”
Scott looked sideways at Derek. All his life, Scott felt like a part of himself was missing, like an arm or a leg. It was such an odd sensation that he ignored it; but wherever he went or whatever he did, the feeling remained. What was even stranger was the time he went to Disneyland during the summer before sixth grade, it was the first time he felt like a whole person. Why Disneyland? He had always wondered if he went back, would he feel complete again? He never told anyone about these bizarre sensations. Who would believe him? Two years ago, he did mention to Derek that he felt like a piece of him was missing. He never thought Derek would use that information against him.
Scott kicked at a rock, regretting that decision. He replied, “Yeah, I found it. Now I have a third arm.”
Derek laughed. “Yeah, well, next time, don’t go looking for your missing part when there’s a football game.”
Scott didn’t respond. Football was his friend’s passion. Beside girls, winning was Derek’s desire. Being second best was never good enough; Derek had to be first. For that reason, Derek always insisted they were on the same team. After becoming friends in third grade, the two of them began playing team sports. Few boys their age equaled their agility and athleticism.
At the corner of Oak Avenue and Third Street, Scott stopped before parting ways with Derek. His friend’s good looks, neatly cut dark-brown hair, and charm always grabbed the girls’ attention, but his temper was nothing to trifle with. Scott knew
