Cassidy didn’t feel much like company at lunch on Monday, so he opted for the guilty pleasure of the cold lunch line, picking up an Italian sub, a tuna sandwich, a bag of barbecue potato chips, and a couple cartons of orange juice.
It had been chilly earlier in the morning, so he was wearing his red wool letter jacket with a big white “E” on the left breast. He was sitting in the bright winter sunshine at one of the concrete tables in the courtyard, when he spotted Stiggs and Randleman, also wearing their jackets, coming from the cafeteria. They looked dour.
He figured they were going to give him grief about his nutritional habits, but they just sat down and looked at him.
“Okay, okay, you caught me. Cold cuts for lunch. Big deal,” Cassidy said.
Stiggs shot a look at Randleman.
“He doesn’t know,” he said. Randleman nodded.
“It’s posted on the gym bulletin board,” Stiggs said. “Let us know what you want to do.”
Then without another word they got up and left.
Cassidy hadn’t finished his second sandwich, but he wrapped it up and tucked his books and sandwich under his arm and headed for the gym.
There were a couple of guys Cassidy didn’t know idly perusing notices on the glass-enclosed bulletin board as he walked up. When they saw him coming, they backed away.
The notice was the only thing posted in the varsity basketball section, a single sheet, typed.
Disbelieving, Cassidy read the heading: “The following is the final selection for the 1964–65 Edgewater basketball team.”
Cassidy scanned down the list, dread forming a knot of nausea in his gut. It was his basketball team, all right.
But he wasn’t on it.