Chapter 10

i give ella a wave when I walk into Blint’s. She waves back and my stomach knots, but in a good way. Blint actually walks us through an interesting presentation on how documentaries often “construct a reality.” His main point is that documentaries are still just stories and that we are choosing what pieces to show, what perspectives to present, because we can’t include it all.

The bell rings and we head out and Ella waits for me at the door.

“You still available this afternoon?”

“Of course.”

She smiles and I feel hot. “Can we meet after the late buses?”

“Uh, uh . . . well, that’s, uh the time when, well, you know, Quinn and I . . . we . . .”

“Shit, you’re working out. How did I forget? After?”

I’m a jumbled mess, but manage to say, “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be swamp of sweat, though.”

“No worries. See you then.” She takes off and I make a mental note to check that I have enough Axe. I’m so lost in my thoughts I almost miss the commotion across the hall.

“I’m not sure what you expect. You missed the scrimmage.” Alva’s voice sounds a lot like Callaghan’s.

“But my nose is broken. You broke it.”

I get my phone in position and hit record. Alva and Gilbey have Kyle and Stephen pressed against their lockers. If I could I would, but I can’t help them in any other way.

“Shut your fucking mouth unless you want something worse. Remember what I said about you not being able to walk? That wasn’t a fucking joke.” Alva presses into Kyle.

Taleana stands at Alva’s side and smiles her glamour-girl grin and I make sure I aim the phone in her direction.

“What do you want?” Stephen asks.

“Really? Are you like retarded?” Gilbey says and smacks Stephen upside his head. Kids in the hall look, but keep on walking. “You come back to practice. You’re part of the team. That’s all there is to it.”

“What if we don’t want to?” Kyle’s voice is low and controlled.

Alva laughs. “That’s not a choice you get to make.” He puts his knuckles into Kyle’s chest. “Understand?”

Kyle grimaces and nods. Taleana’s face seems to flutter with enjoyment.

“Good. That’s the end of this conversation. Period.” Alva straightens himself and looks around the hallway. He sees me.

“Have you been recording us, Tubs?”

My heart stops. My legs cramp and a wheeze escapes my lungs.

“Hey, Dun, the fuck you doing with that phone? Better be prepared to eat it.” Alva’s moving across the hall.

“No, I was just texting, that’s all.”

“Who the fuck would text you?” Alva reaches out. “Let me see.”

I turn away. There’s no way in hell I’m letting this monster touch my phone.

“The fuck you doing?” Gilbey’s in my face now, pawing at the phone. Fortunately, I’m big enough to tuck it under my armpit and away from either of them. But they keep reaching and barking shit like, “Hand it over, Dun.” “Give me the phone before I fucking break you.” No one’s stopping to help and it’s only a matter of seconds before they destroy the one thing in my life I need besides food.

And so I do what I have to in order to survive. I reach behind me and wedge my phone in between my ass cheeks. And then I clamp down. Hard. It seems as if all the squats have paid off, because it doesn’t slide at all.

I lift my arms and Alva and Gilbey look at me like I’m a magician.

“Where’d it go?” Gilbey asks.

Alva pins me to the lockers and pats me down. He even lifts my belly to check the fold. Embarrassing, but thorough. He stops at my crotch and looks up. “Tell me you didn’t put it in there.”

Gilbey follows his lead. “That’s fucking sick.”

Alva doesn’t take his eyes off me, and I feel like I’m looking at a younger version of Callaghan. “Pull it out, Dun.”

I press my ass against the wall. There’s enough padding. “No.”

Alva tilts his head. “Did you really just say no?”

I don’t know why I feel empowered in this moment, but I do. Possibly because this is the one time I have something that they want, and it feels good to withhold. Or quite possibly it’s because I finally get the chance to say no and have it matter.

Alva stands, and I can now see the rest of the hall. There’s a decent crowd. A bunch of bros, Taleana and her bitches, and a handful of randoms. No one dares move.

“That’s not how this works, Dun. Hand it over now.”

“And you know that will never fucking happen.” I look him straight in the eye, just in case it drives home the point of never.

My balls shatter beneath his fist. I fall to the floor, but have the presence of mind to keep my back to the wall, my phone safe. Kids linger and then go at the bell. Alva and Gilbey talk shit when they go past, but I hear none of it. I sit in a crumpled heap and I see myself, not in the here and now, but in the future, after I have won. After I have beaten these assholes.

This will all be worth it. No lies, because I don’t need them. No deceit, because it’s not necessary to convince anyone. Just honesty. I reach back and grab my phone. Unscathed. Fuck the bros. I’m just getting started.

• • •

My balls still hurt. I just want to see Ella and go home and edit what I captured on film. But Ollie’s pumped, and it’s not as if I don’t need this. “Come on, Ollie, let’s go lift something.”

“Deadlifts today, boys,” Quinn says.

I feel like something dead. Perfect.

When we finish with Quinn, I’m drenched, but towel off and shake the can of Axe. Plenty. I douse myself, and Q and Ollie cough.

“You angry?” Q asks.

“Huh?” I wave the mist around.

“You trying to kill us with all that?”

“Uh, no, I just have a meeting?”

Quinn asks, “Yeah, with who?” he sounds genuinely interested and for a moment, I feel awesome. That is ended by a loud scream, followed by a thud.

“No! I’m not eating it!”

“What the fuck is that?” Oliver asks.

Quinn and I share a glance, and I say, “Don’t make a noise, and don’t do jack shit. Got it?”

Ollie’s confused. “Okay?”

“Come on.” Quinn nods and I get out my phone.

Ollie doesn’t say a word as we pick our way through the janitor’s closet and behind the bleachers.

Inside the gym, Kyle and Stephen are lying facedown on the ground. An upperclassman sits on top of each one. Gilbey stands before them holding a bag with a spoon. Alva has his arms crossed and is shaking his head.

I zoom in on their faces and then the bag. There’s something brown inside.

“Yes, you will fucking eat this.” Alva squats down and pats Kyle’s cheek. “Sometimes you gotta eat a little shit to prove that you’re part of the team. You are part of this team, right?”

Neither answers. Alva stands. “They are a part of this team, right?” He addresses the rest of the team.

“Right!” they answer in unison.

I pan to them and their faces are a mix of emotions: fear, apathy, disgust, excitement. It’s awful.

“The hell is going on?” Ollie whispers.

Q and I both raise fingers to our lips, but then I whisper, “You think this is on purpose? Some setup to catch me because of today?”

“You give them way too much credit. They don’t think you’re capable of taking them down.”

I think about the hall and how never felt in my mouth. Q’s right.

“Of course you are a part of this team, because we won’t ever let you go,” Alva says. “Gilbey? The spoon?” Gilbey hands it over, and on my screen I can see the shit, moist and rounded, like pudding. But not pudding.

Alva pushes it toward Kyle. He shakes his head and screams, “Fuck you!” Alva snaps his fingers and another upperclassman appears.

“Squeeze his mouth open.”

The kid pries at Kyle’s face and opens his lips. Kyle strains, but this boy is big and seems like he’s done this before.

“Enjoy,” Alva says and pushes the spoon in.

The big kid forces Kyle’s mouth shut and Kyle twitches like a fish out of water. I have to look away. Vomit rises in my throat and I swallow it, but I will myself to hold it together.

“Next,” Alva says, as calmly as someone at a doctor’s office. The process repeats and the only difference is that Stephen is crying before they punch in the spoon.

We all turn away as soon as it’s over because Quinn’s about to explode and Oliver looks like he might pass out.

Back in the locker room my ears ring, and I go to the water fountain and wash out my mouth as if I’ve just eaten shit.

“Holy fuck. Holy fuck,” Ollie says over and over. “What was that?”