Harrisonâs nose. He ground his teeth so hard his jaw ached, but he sniffed and blinked his eyes dry.
He ran fast, like Coach said. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs went numb, and as he ran, he scolded himself. He scolded himself for ever believing people could be nice to him, or things could ever make sense, or that he could ever fit in. He was alone in the world, and thatâs all heâd ever be. He wasnât going to be fooled by Mrs. Godfreyâs soft voice, or Jenniferâs kind words, or Beckyâs friendly smile, or Coach taking him fishing and promising a haircut. He was going to be smarter than that. Those things were all window dressing. They werenât real, and at the end of the day, all he could really expect from people was meanness and anger and insults.
What he wanted to do was run right off the field, off school grounds, through the village, out of town, out of the state, out of the entire country. He wanted to run to Canada and start a new life, maybe living on the street. Thatâs how crazy his mind was, but in the end, he finished his five laps and stood gasping for breath, ready for more cruelty and punishment. The team kept doing inside run, but no one said anything to Harrison, and he ignored them right back. He just stood there, off to the side, watching but not participating.
Coach acted like he wasnât there until he blew his whistle and shouted, âGood work. Get a drink.â
The team rushed for a water spigot that stood off on the edge of their field, closer to the JV field. A pipe stuck out of the ground with a faucet someone turned on so that streams of water burst from a long plastic pipe suspended chest-high by legs on either end. Harrison watched the team lining up behind one another like cows at the trough. He didnât notice that Coach was beside him until he spoke in his gruff voice.
âHarrison, why in the world did you do that?â
Harrisonâs face twisted with rage and confusion. âI donât even know what youâre talking about.â
Chapter Twenty-Five
COACH STARED HARD AT him for a moment. âReally?â
Harrison shook his head. âI thought I was supposed to run them over. I know I messed up on the handoff, but I did the best I could to get the ball back and try to gain some yards.â
âI know that,â Coach said, âthat was incredible. That wasnât the problem.â
Harrison looked at Coach in total confusion.
âYou canât spike the ball, donât you know that?â Coach asked.
âNo,â Harrison said.
âAre you for real?â
Harrison shrugged and sputtered. âI guess so. Thatâs what they do on TV.â
Coach shook his head. âThis is junior high school football. Spiking the ball is a fifteen-yard penalty. Itâs unsportsmanlike. It makes your whole team look bad, your school, and especially your coach. I donât let anybody do that. Sportsmanship is first with me. I cut a kid last year for spitting on someone after he made a tackle. I just wonât have it. Itâs more important than winning and losing. Itâs a life lesson that goes way beyond football. Do you understand?â
Harrison tried to understand. Finally he said, âI donât, Coach. Iâm sorry. Iâm just being honest. I donât see how itâs okay they do that in the NFL but itâs wrong here.â
Coach glanced impatiently at the team. Some of the boys were finished drinking and headed back toward Coach, strapping up their helmets as they jogged.
âCan we talk about it later?â Coach asked.
âSure.â
âAnd in the meantime, can you promise me you wonât do that again?â Coach asked.
âI wonât do it.â
âGood. Can you run like that again?â
Harrison smiled big. âThatâs all I want to do.â
âGood. Weâre going to do some team work now. Iâm going to have
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