Two days later, on Friday, when Anton picks me up for school, I’m surprised that he isn’t pumped up for the game. He was sluggish at practice the day before, but he told me he was just tired. I thought he’d be fine today. He has fought hard to play through every game since his first day on the team.
I turn up the radio to blast some music like we normally do, but he reaches over and turns it off. I look over at him annoyed.
“What’s up with you?” I ask.
“I just . . . I can’t get rid of this headache,” he says.
“Still?” I say, surprised. When I’ve taken my bad hits I’ve always bounced back after a day or two. So has Anton. “Did you take some aspirin?”
“Yeah,” he says. “It doesn’t do a thing.”
“You’ll be fine once you get out on the field tonight,” I say, sure he just needs to start the game to get back in shape. That is how it is for me. Once the clock on the scoreboard starts ticking backward and the adrenaline takes over, whatever is bothering me fades away completely. All my focus is on the game.
Anton nods his head at this and doesn’t say anything the rest of the drive to school. Usually he’s reciting all the stats on the players from the opposing team, but not today.
***
Since it’s game day, there’s a pep rally in the gym before classes start. The band is playing, the cheerleaders are bouncing around, but the students in the stands are all somber. Word has spread that our school might be closing.
I’m hoping Anton will make some kind of big speech to get everyone in the gym riled up, but he doesn’t. He acts just like he did in the truck this morning.
Instead of his normal pep talk, all he manages to get out is a halfhearted “Go Wolves!” before handing the microphone back to Coach. Everyone else seems taken aback too. He usually likes to talk and get the crowd pumped up. Maybe, I think, he’s taking this game more seriously because the school is on the line.
“Come on,” I say to him as Coach gives a short speech. “We need to get some good energy going.”
“I can’t yell right now,” Anton says. “I can’t even think.”
I look around the gym. The students in the stands seem defeated. It’s as if a decision for our school has already been made. As much as I hate public speaking, I don’t want our pep rally to end like this. So when Coach is done, I ask for the microphone.
I look around at all the students. “This is our school!” I shout. “Warren High!”
The students start to perk up.
“This is our team! The Warren Wolves!” The guys behind me all let out a howl. “And we aren’t going down without a fight! Stand up if you love this school!”
Students begin to clap and then stand. They begin to stomp. They begin to howl.