On Tuesday, Anton has made an excuse not to drive me to school. The two of us have driven together every day since the day he got his truck, and before that we rode the same bus. My mom has to drive me, and I feel like I’m back in first grade. Anton continues to ignore me—dodging me in the hallway and avoiding our lockers.
I finally see Anton in science class. I sit right behind him, but he barely talks to me. When we get our tests back, I see that Anton has failed. The kid has never failed a test in his life. There is red all over the page and at the top written in all caps the words: see me.
After class, I see Ms. Jenkins talk to him. She knows something is wrong, but he won’t tell her what it is. I watch him shake his head. When he comes out of the room, I want to say something to him, but I can tell he’s upset he failed the test, and I know saying anything will just set him off. I don’t know when to confront him, but I know now isn’t a good time. I think about it all day, but Anton manages to continue to ignore me. For a guy who is supposed to be my best friend, he’s really good at pretending he doesn’t hear me call to him in the hallway.
***
“Anton!” I finally catch up with him after school as we head down to the locker room.
“How are you doing?”
“Big game Friday night,” he says. “We’re going to win it. I can feel it.”
“So you’re good?” I ask.
“Fine,” he says. He doesn’t look at me. He just heads straight into the locker room.
“Seriously,” I say, grabbing his shoulder. “Are you still having headaches?”
He turns and looks at me.
“No,” he says. “If I were seriously injured, I wouldn’t be at school. I wouldn’t be here. But I’m walking and talking and going to practice today. Now drop it. There isn’t anything wrong with me.”
I believe him for a moment.
But when we are in the locker room, I see him taking more aspirin. He winces as he puts his shoulder pads over his head. I look around at the rest of the team. Most of us are banged up: the guys on our defensive line have bruises all up and down their arms; Corbin’s hand is wrapped in a big cast; my right shoulder aches. But that doesn’t stop the rest of us from going out there. Except I’ve realized, another hit to my shoulder won’t kill me. Another hit to Anton’s head just might put him in the hospital or worse.