I’ve always seen my father as this pillar of strength and perfection. Even at seven, I wanted to be exactly like him. Even now, ten years later, I want to be exactly like him. I want to achieve things and go to college and make a difference. To think that maybe those things might not have happened for him if it weren’t for Eric Vance kind of throws me for a loop.

I wear the same guilt my father probably carried around for the rest of the afternoon.

· twenty-four ·

ELIJAH

Julian is distracted. He’s been throwing long bombs that are way off the mark all afternoon, and he’s been sacked twice by that monster freshman who now thinks he’s hot shit because he’s taken the quarterback out. I’m doing everything I can to keep this giant kid off of him, but Julian’s not doing himself any favors. He keeps calling one play and executing another. He’s got his o-line so confused, we don’t know who we’re supposed to be paying attention to.

Coach Marcus blows his whistle so hard, I wonder if he’s trying to spit it right at Julian’s head. I watch him pull Julian to the side and give him a real reaming about a half hour before practice ends. Coach Andrews takes the o-line to the end zone for gap-blocking drills, so I don’t have a chance to catch up to Julian and ask if he’s okay.

Come to think of it, he was quiet in history, too. Mrs. Nguyen lectured for the entire class period, so there really wasn’t a lot of time for talking, but Julian didn’t look like himself, anyway. He held his chin in his hand and had his notebook out to take notes but didn’t write even one word down while she was talking. In fact, I think it’s the first time that I took more notes than he did.

I hurried to practice after class so that I could give Coach Marcus the sixty dollars for the uniform fee, and Julian was dawdling like he wanted to talk to Mrs. Nguyen, so I didn’t wait to walk with him. When he finally got to the locker room, he looked tired, so I chalked it up to the Monday blues even though that didn’t exactly feel right, either.

Our kiss has been on my mind since it happened last night, keeping me up most of the night with butterflies in my stomach. It didn’t seem like Julian regretted it. I know I certainly didn’t.

For once, everything felt like it was falling into place. Football was going great, school wasn’t terrible, and even living at Ms. Birdie’s was starting to feel a little more comfortable. Holding onto Julian’s pinkie on the way to school this morning felt exactly right, too.