BooksBarbecue
Back The Hallows
Chapters (89)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CONTENTS
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. 76
  81. 77
  82. 78
  83. 79
  84. 80
  85. 81
  86. 82
  87. 83
  88. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  89. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

He chuckled. “You were picked on a bit, weren’t you?”

“A bit? I showed up to freshman homecoming with a girl I found out only brought me there on a dare, and her boyfriend kicked my ass in the parking lot in front of the entire school. So yeah, there were some issues.”

“Well, it’s just jealousy. I was jealous as hell of your brains. I wasn’t always nice to you, and I’m sorry about that.”

“Water under the bridge, Roscoe.” I looked out over the field. “Good team you got here.”

“We got a shot at state. That boy there, Lopez, he’s the best running back I’ve ever seen. He’s got a sub-five forty dash.”

“You’re kidding.”

He shook his head. “That kid’s goin’ pro.” He looked at me. “What really brings you by?”

“Can we talk in private?”

“Sure thing.”

He told the other coach to watch things, and we walked off the field and onto the bleachers. We sat at the fifty-yard line, and I looked out over the field. I’d never been to a single football game when I’d gone here, so this particular place held no memories for me.

“What kind of kid was Anderson when he went here?”

He looked out over the field. “Kind of a pain in the rear, to be honest. One of those kids you just want to get through the semester with and get him out of your class. Wasn’t no better out here on the field. Always harassing the cheerleaders. Groping them and things. I had to bench him several times for pulling things like that.”

“Any violence?”

“One time he got into a fight with one of our other players. Young black kid named David.”

I nodded. “I can imagine why. Anything else?”

“No. He was a talker but didn’t have too much bite. He weighed less than anyone on the team.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ever get into it with him?”

He chuckled. “Not to be vulgar, but if he walked between my legs people would think he was my penis.”

I stared at him, and he grew embarrassed and looked away. “I just mean he’s tiny. If I hit him, he would break.”

“That isn’t a no, Roscoe.”

“No,” he said sternly. “No, I never got into it with him.”