Chapter Nine

Jake

Practice ends with me on the ground. Coach approved the new plays the guys and I created and let us try them out today. I wouldn’t say they were bad ideas, but they need some refining.

I stand as Coach whistles for us all to huddle up. It takes me a second to get to my feet. That one hurt. It happened so fast I don’t know how I got down. Griggs slaps me on the back when I join the team.

“The first game of the season is on Friday. That’s three days away! You think this is hard? You’re about to see how easy this has been all summer,” Coach Tucker says. It feels like he’s looking at me.

When I get back to my phone in the locker room, I have a text from my brother. Northlands?

Northlands is this video game we like to play sometimes. I don’t know the last time we looked at the land we built. Probably before the accident.

Sure

And pizza?

You’re going to turn into a pizza.

It will be a good way to die.

For once, I actually want to go home. I miss my brother. This is almost like he was before.

My stomach growls as I walk inside the house. I want this pizza in my mouth and a beer in my hand.

“Jake? That you?” Jamie calls from one room.

“Yeah, man.”

I head toward his room with the pizza and hand him the BBQ cheeseburger pizza with jalapeños.

“Yesss, I wanted this all day.”

“I don’t know how you eat that.”

“Like this,” he says, and he opens the box, smells it, shoves a bite into his mouth. “So good.”

Fuck it. I put my meat lovers with mushroom pizza next to his and take a bite. The cheese melts in my mouth. Pizza is so good.

“How was practice?”

“Coach ran us ragged.”

Jamie chuckles. “Yeah, he’s good at that.”

He would know. He was with Coach before I was. He was everything before I was, and now look at him.

“Want to play with me?” Jamie asks.

“Let me shower first,” I say.

“Hurry up,” he says as I get another slice.

I nod and exhale once he’s out of my sight. Today, he seems okay. In an hour, he might not be. That happens. Sometimes he’s all right, these glimmers of my brother. Sometimes he’s angry. I’m angry. Dad is, too. We’ve all been pissed off for months. It’s this unspoken rage, and each of us feels it, even though not one of us would ever tell it to the others. Or acknowledge that it lives in the corner of every room.

Ever since it happened, I’ve been thinking about Mom. I used to never think about her, except on obvious days like her birthday and Mother’s Day. But now, I wonder what it would be like if she was here. Would we all be as angry? Would she be a positive light in our dark world? Would she make it more bearable, make Dad more present, make us all less angry? Maybe. Or maybe she would’ve done what she did before and bailed when it got hard. I hate that I think about her, but she’s another thing that we’re all missing and never talking about.

I pull a beer from the fridge and head upstairs. His bedroom door is open again, and just the sight of it pisses me off. That fucking jersey catches my eye. He deserves more than this.

I push the thought away and turn on the shower. While the water heats up, I sip the beer and scroll through Facebook on my phone. A memory from a year ago today. Jamie and me in jerseys on the field after one of the first games of the season. The crowd is blurred behind us. We’re both red-faced, sweaty, smiling. Top of the world, me and him, and now we’re at the bottom. I don’t think we’ll ever get back to how good life was in that moment.

The shower is steaming up the bathroom, so I toss the phone down and take a gulp of beer. The water is scalding, but I step into it anyway.

We play Northlands until he gets too tired from the meds and goes to bed. I’m not that sleepy yet. I reckon I should be. I have a long day ahead tomorrow, but instead I wander around the house and into the bathroom. I scroll through my phone and look at Instagram. I don’t really use it, but everyone else does. Real or not, we all have stories; I like seeing glimpses of the ones other people have to tell. I don’t share a lot anymore. There’s nothing I want to remember about my life right now.

There’s a story from Haley Howell. From the looks of things, four minutes ago she was making tea and watching a movie on the couch. The simple image of their living room makes me want to be in their house.

I shouldn’t. But I know where the hide-a-key is. Plus, we’re riding together in the morning anyway.

Her number is there; another one I have in my phone in case I need it, but it’s as unused as my Uncle Cal’s. I text Other Howell. It feels weird staring at her name. I never had a reason to text her before, and I guess I don’t now except that I want to. I kinda miss her. You awake?

Yeah.

That’s basically all the convincing I need.

When I walk inside, Haley is curled up in a fuzzy blanket on the couch, her legs tucked under her. She doesn’t even look up at me. I grab a beer from their fridge and move to the other side of the couch, toss my feet up on the chaise longue. I’ve been in this living room so many times, but it’s never been just the two of us on the couch alone.

“What are you watching?” I ask during a commercial about a brand new high-suction vacuum.

She stares at the TV like the vacuum is the most interesting thing ever. “The Breakfast Club,” she says.

“Really?” I ask. “I expected more, Other Howell, I really did.”

She blushes. I like that she has some sort of reaction to me. Has it always been that way, or is it new? “It’s my favorite.”

I shrug. My mom used to watch that movie, and I don’t know how I remember that, I was so young when she left, but I do. Breakfast and The Breakfast Club. “I never really got the appeal of this movie. I’ve had detention hundreds of times, and nothing good has come from it.”

She laughs. “Maybe it will.”

“I wonder sometimes. Most days it all feels pointless.”

“What does?”

I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud, but I did, so I can’t do anything but own it. “Life.”

Her eyes narrow in on me. “That’s dark, Jake.”

I shrug. I don’t know why I’m sharing all of this with her. I know her, but I don’t, like, know her. She’s Chris’s twin sister. She’s always been the tagalong. But now, well, ever since that thing at the party with Shelby and the rehab center, I don’t know. I like being around her.

“I don’t really have anything besides football.”

That rings true. Talk about dark, that’s the darkest part of my life. That I really have nothing else. I’m not real sure how that happened. One day, that’s all I was known for, all I was good at, and it became who I am. Besides Howell and Jamie, I don’t have a lot of people who know me for me. Maybe that’s why they both stick around, even when they shouldn’t.

“It’s hard to have your whole identity wrapped up in one thing.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Imagine having it wrapped up in nothing.” She looks at me again. “That’s me. I have nothing, really, except being Chris’s sister.”

“You’re a Belle.”

She grimaces. “I am, but I’m so not a Belle. Not like Abby or even Georgia Ann. It’s not in my blood. But you’re right, I guess. It’s scary to think about what happens when it’s gone.”

“When what’s gone?”

Haley shifts in her seat, leaning her body more toward me. “Football. Or whatever that thing is. Like, when you lose that thing, what are you?”

Damn. That stings. I don’t know, either. “Shit, that’s deep.”

“That’s life.”

“What are you losing, if you aren’t really enjoying the Belles?”

“I mean, I enjoy it enough, but it’s not who I am. Not like football is to you. I will lose that. Abby. Culler. Chris.”

“You won’t lose him.”

Haley rolls her eyes. “I mean, I will. I’m sort of realizing that I’m nothing without him. Everyone sees me as his sister. I don’t have anything that’s mine.”

If she’s gonna lose Howell, then I will, too. She’s his twin. He’ll be playing college ball somewhere, there’s no doubt about that. What will I have left when he’s gone? I don’t want to think about it, honestly, so I play it off as the movie comes back on.

“You’ll always have detention,” I smirk.

“Not unless I start getting in trouble.”

“There’s still time,” I say. Haley laughs, and it’s so cute. Sweet, light, almost childlike. I really enjoy the sound. We’re both quiet and watching the movie. At one of those parts where they’re all complaining about everything, Haley sighs.

“I don’t have anything that’s mine, you know. Not really.”

“You’re a good person. That’s what you have. I have a ball and a field.”

“You love it, though.”

“I do.”

I love everything about football, except losing, but even then, it makes winning sweeter. The field is the only place I’ve ever felt I was valued, like I was part of something bigger than myself.

“I want that. I want something. Somewhere I stand out, you know?”

She’s not giving herself nearly enough credit. Everyone at school knows Haley Howell, in some way, for some reason, and it’s not being the Other Howell. “I thought you said something about taking risks the other day. Or did I dream that?”

Her face lights up. “You dream about me now?”

A smile spreads across my face. “You’re funny.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m serious, though.”

“I know, I’m still figuring it out.” She nods. “At least you have something you love.”

“And now I also have community service. Yippee,” I say, taking a drink of my beer.

“Because of last year with Mr. Connors?”

I hate that she remembers it. I knew she did, trust me, no one has forgotten—and not just the teachers. It’s not every day a student loses it on a teacher. “Yup. Mr. Connors hates me. He hates all football players, except maybe your brother, but especially me.”

“No one hates Chris.”

I can’t argue with that. Howell is the best person I know, and I don’t know why he puts up with me sometimes. Even before the accident, I always felt like I had to stay good in order for people to understand why we were friends.

Haley looks at my bottle a little too long. It’s such a Howell thing to do. Maybe they all share that judgmental look, just another way they’re all too good for me.

“Go ahead,” I say. “I’m ready.”

“For what?”

“The general you shouldn’t drink so much Jake blah, blah, blah.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” she says.

“Right.”

Her nose scrunches up. “I’m serious. I was wondering how you drink that stuff. It’s so gross.”

I almost laugh. I can’t imagine that. “How would you know? I’ve never seen you drink anything.”

“I drink.” I raise an eyebrow at her. “Sometimes.” I shake my head. “Once or twice.”

Okay, that’s more believable. “That’s what I thought. Maybe you should do something crazy, Other Howell.”

Her eyes light up when I say it. I know I’ve stepped into something.

Haley slowly unfolds herself from the couch. Her eyes sparkle, and I’d never really noticed how much they seem to dance in her happiness. What are they like when they’re sad? Angry? Lost? I hope I never see that, but I also want to see everything. The blanket falls from her legs. Her shorts are pink and high on her thighs, and then I look up because I shouldn’t even be looking at her legs.

“What if I don’t always want to play it safe?” she asks. My heart races, and my eyes wander across her body. Focus. “I want to do it, Jake. Something crazy. More than one thing, lots of things.”

“I’m not following…”

She exhales and then grabs my arm by the wrist. “I want you to make me try things that I wouldn’t normally try. I want to prove to myself that I can do other things, that I can take risks and have fun.”

“You want me to give you risk lessons?”

“Yes! Exactly,” she says.

Part of me likes the idea of hanging out with her. Showing her new things, being a friend to her. It could be good to have someone else, and I need someone else. Someone who doesn’t know every piece of my life. But at the same time, she’s Howell’s twin sister. The other part of me feels like I should shut it down right now and not get involved with her at all. In any way.

“Like what kind of shit? Dangerous? Big? New and strange?” I am a glutton for punishment.

She’s smiling again, and she does that a lot. At me? Or just because? Shake that off, Jake. “All of the above. Everything. Anything,” she says.

“Why?”

She blinks like she didn’t expect me to ask. “Why what?”

I want it to be me, though. I can’t explain why, but I still have to ask. I need to understand it. She’s already pretty awesome, so what does she want to prove?

“Why me? Why do you want to do this?” I ask with a shrug. “It seems odd, and there are a bunch of people besides me that you could turn to.”

Haley leans back against the couch, obviously deflated a little. It’s not fun to watch. I take another sip of my beer because this is what I do: I break things. I ruin people’s dreams. Why not Other Howell, too? All I would do is corrupt her anyway.

“You’re honestly the only person who doesn’t expect me to be something else. Like, who am I to you, really, besides Chris’s sister?” Haley stops with a pause. A long one.

A lot, I want to say, or you could be a lot. A lot of things I didn’t expect. But maybe not. I don’t know what I’m even doing right now.

She continues. “So there’s no expectation on me to be something else or do something a certain way. I like that dynamic. You challenge me, you always do. I need someone to push me, and I guess I think that’s you.” She sits up more confidently, wiping some hair away from her face. “Why do I want to do this? Well, it’s senior year, and what have I done? Nothing. I want to do something important for myself at least.”

We’re both quiet, the sound of the movie still in the background. The pretty prom queen crying over some bullshit about how no one knows how hard it is for her, to have to pretend she’s someone she’s not so that she can make it through. I think we all relate to her more than we want to admit. Isn’t that what I’m fighting for? Doesn’t Haley get that, too?

“Nothing’s off-limits?”

“I mean, nothing appropriate is off-limits.”

“Describe appropriate,” I say, and she tosses a throw pillow at my face. “I was kidding. Lighten up. You really are a Howell.”

“I don’t want to be a Howell. Not in that way.”

“I hear you.”

This could be fun. I could at least take her on a few adventures, let her try something new. I can do that.

“Okay, sure. I’ll do it.”

She extends her hand officially, and I take it in mine and give it a shake. It sends this surprise chill down my spine, and when her hand isn’t touching me again, I want it to be. Weird.

Haley smiles. “Great. This is fantastic.”

I nod, still not sure what this sensation is. Maybe I drank too many beers or developed a new gluten allergy overnight. I look back at the screen to see the whiny girl talking at the leather jacket boy.

“What’s not fantastic is this movie. This movie does not take risks.”

“It’s all about risks.”

“Not unless they’re risking how they will survive without whining,” I say.

She tosses me the remote. “Then show me the way.”

“You sure? This is your favorite.”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna miss a teachable moment from the risk master.”

“I kinda like that title,” I say with a smile. I scroll through the menu until we find a Van Damme movie. “Now this is about taking risks.”

“I actually love this movie.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” she says.

“I didn’t take you for an action movie girl.”

“You don’t know me that well,” she says.

“Apparently not,” I say back. Her eyes are already glued to the screen while mine are on her. She and I quote one of the lines at the same time, and she smiles over at me. Her whole face lights up when she does, and it stirs something inside me. A feeling that I haven’t felt in a long time. Happiness.