Chapter 12

Kasey meats us outside the athletic building and walks us to a nearby dorm where she introduces us to the guys we’ll be staying with.

“This is Shawntrell,” she says. I recognize Shawntrell as one of the guys out on the field with me. At least he isn’t Legs, I think. But then . . . “And this is Oscar,” she says. “But everyone calls him Legs.”

I look at him, but he doesn’t seem to see me standing there. He looks past me. I turn around to see what he’s looking at, but there’s nothing behind me. He just doesn’t want to acknowledge that I’m there.

Kasey hands us each a plastic card. “These will get you into the cafeteria. Each card has $200 on it. That should be enough to keep you fed this weekend, but with football players, I’m never sure.”

“It’s good,” I say. “Thanks!”

“After you eat,” Kasey continues, “I’ll meet you both again right here, and we’ll walk around campus. Then I’m going to take you to a class or two so you can see what academic life is like here.”

We both thank her again.

“Enjoy!” She smiles. “I’ll meet you back here in forty-five minutes.”

We head upstairs to the dorm rooms we’ll be sharing with Shawntrell and Legs.

“Let me stay with Shawntrell,” I whisper to Calvin. “I’m pretty sure Legs would like to smother me in my sleep. I’d be his competition if I went here next year.”

Calvin nods at this. “Weird that they put you two together.”

“It is,” I agree.

I put my stuff in Shawntrell’s room. There’s an extra cot set up there for me. Calvin is just across the hall in Legs’ room. The entire football team is housed in this building. The coach doesn’t let his players live off campus. He keeps them all together so they can help each other out.

“Let’s get our second breakfast,” Shawntrell says.

“Second?” I say.

“We eat before practice and after,” Shawntrell says. “Trying to put on some weight.” He looks at Calvin. “You, kid, need like four breakfasts.”

We follow Legs and Shawntrell across a courtyard.

“So, you’re from Hawaii,” Legs says, finally speaking to us. “Why would you ever leave?”

“A chance to play here,” Calvin says. “Where are you from?”

“Texas,” he answers.

“Chicago,” Shawntrell adds.

We keep talking about UCC and classes as we make our way through the cafeteria, and Legs seems to be warming up to me.

But then he gives Shawntrell a nod and joins some other players a few tables over.

“Don’t take it personally,” Shawntrell says to me. “Coach has been riding him hard. I think he made sure you two were paired up to light a little fire under him. Legs has got natural talent, but he needs to work harder.”

I don’t like that I’m here just to threaten another player. It doesn’t feel good.

Some other freshman players join us, and they all start talking about Saturday’s game. Shawntrell is worried about beating Branford. UCC isn’t as strong as they were the year before. They lost some of their top players. I don’t mention that my dad went to Branford.

“How much playing time do you get?” I ask.

“None,” Shawntrell says. “But Legs, over there, he’s been sent out quite a bit. Hopefully next year I’ll get out on the field. You have to work hard, prove yourself, and fight for a spot on the field your sophomore year. But you never know.”

We clear our trays and head back to the dorm.

Legs walks past us without saying a word. I watch him move up ahead. His strides are long and confident. His head is held high.

I need to prove that I’m the fastest guy out there on Sunday, I think. Not second fastest. Not third fastest. The fastest. Coach Washington is looking for speed.