Straight Boys - Chapter 13: Chapter 13
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"Have a seat, Andrew." I took my place in the comfy chair in front of my principal's desk. I had just gotten back from the nurse's office, where Ms. Fessbar had cleaned up the blood smeared over my face, bandaged me up, and giving me some drugs for the pain in my head. I hadn't gotten a concussion but my face was jacked up.
It was my fault anyway.
As I sat in Mr. Johannes office, for the second time that year - and it was only the first few weeks! - my mind had finally calmed down, but only to be bombarded with thoughts of what I had just done. I never get into fist fights. Ever. That wasn't me! What was Mr. Johannes going to do? Was I going to get expelled?
"Where's Corbett?" That was the only thing I could come up with to say through my rushing thoughts, finally taking note of the lack of bodies in the room.
"I already talked to him." I nodded once, crossing my arms with a meek awkwardness.
The older man with thinning hair and a somber expression, intertwined his fingers together over the polished wood of his desk, only raising the awkwardness around me. He then said, "What were you thinking, when you got into that fight?" That was the big question now. Everybody and their mother wanted to know, but simply, "I wasn't."
Mr. Johannes bobbed his head once.
"You know, this kind of behavior isn't like you. I understand only half of it, but per school rules, I have called your father." I was now alarmed. "He is on his way right now." I shook my head, scooting up on the edge of my seat.
"Why did you call my dad? He didn't need to know about this!" I hissed, trying my hardest not to give the man a dirty look. My father and I were certainly going to be at it when he got there.
At that exact moment, however, the door to Mr. Johannes' office slowly opened, causing me to turn my head to see who had entered. It was Coach Matthews.
I audibly gulped.
"Coach..." I trailed off, keeping my eyes on him as he made his way around the desk. "...What are you doing here?" Part of me knew, I already knew it, but I was denying it.
The two teachers glanced at each other before staking their eyes on me. Their faces mirrored each other's, their looks drawing the dread upon my throat, almost choking me.
Coach opened his mouth to speak, but I was hardly listening, too stressed to get a word in edgewise. "Since the accident with your... family... Mr. Matthews and I have decided that it's best if you..." I had to hear them say it. They couldn't leave me hanging like that!
"If I what?"
"If you take time off football for a while. Your studies are dropping, not to mention you're getting into a fight as brutal as the one in the cafeteria, and you don't seem to be in the best of shape to keep playing." It was Coach that finished Mr. Johannes' answer. It was Coach Matthews that opened the trap door beneath my feet.
It was my fault though. I did this. If I'd only kept my cake hole shut, just walked away or ignored Corbett Conners like I did everything else, then I wouldn't have been in this situation! If I hadn't gotten so angry!
"You can't do that! I'm fine!" My voice was hoarse, raspy and itching my throat. I wasn't yelling, but it'd felt I'd been yelling for hours.
"We can and we will." I glared at my principal, not finding his commentary very helpful at such a dire time.
"And," Coach added, "since you are being suspended from football for a while, you are also loosing your position as captain. It's only best for the team." So it was true. I was actually getting bumped down to not even on the team anymore. I was loosing everything I'd worked so hard for. I couldn't believe it. Some part of me was hoping, wishing that this, none of this was even remotely true, but my mind drew a blank of how it couldn't not be true. Why did shit like this always happen to me?! I wanted to know why, as I stared down the walls across from me, willing the chipped paint and dust to give me the answer with my eyes. They stayed silent.
"We think," I didn't dare look up at the two people in front of me anymore when they started speaking again, only keeping my dull eyes on the beige trim of the office walls, "that you need time off so you can be with your family. It seems you need it more than you need football." I didn't even like football anymore. I just hated the fact that I was being kicked off the team, that I was being reduced to the four walls of a classroom or a hospital or my room. Football was my only escape, even if I didn't necessarily show up for practice everyday this past week. It was my getaway from everything around me when I needed to get away.
All these irrational dicisions they were making, or maybe they were rational, but I didn't think so, we're making my face throb with pain, like my brain was telling my body that I wasn't alright anymore.
I haven't been for the past week.
"But I'm fine! Let me play. I can do it!" I was practically begging, but they weren't relenting.
Both Mr. Johannes and Coach Matthews shook their heads no. Coach was the one to talk. "You need a break. I don't want someone in such a shape like you running my team."
I didn't know if the rumor was true, if he and Mr. Johannes were actually pining for my release from the football team way before all this went down, or if it was because I had gotten into a fight, that they were letting me go; but I didn't want them to. Although I was barely hanging on with a pinky, I was still holding strong!
"Where's my son?!" From through the thin walls, my dad's voice sifted into my ears. Ms. Hughes' voice gurgled something incoherent out to him, and before the three of us knew it, my dad was stomping into the office. He looked furious, but kept his emotions intact like he was always good at.
"Ah, Mr. Parsley, you're here!" My pops nodded, then took a seat next to me, his spine straight and jaw ticking. "Who's the kid that beat the crap out of Andrew?" I glared at his blonde hair, crossing my arms tighter over my thin chest.
"Corbett Conners. He's a player on the team." My dad did nothing, said nothing, only waited for a further explanation, which he got. The three men discussed how I wasn't going to be playing for the team for a while, although that I was free to go to the games. They talked about how I was going to be getting a few days of detention, much to my dismay, but Corbett was getting suspended for a week, and how I was free to go home after this explanation with my father. School was just now beginning sixth period, and I would have much rather have stayed for the Pre AP Calculus, but my father had dragged me out of the office to his car before I could begin my travels to the classroom.
We were then driving out of the school's parking lot, the air polluted in a kind of toxic silence. Not even the radio was on.
My dad gripped his steering wheel with steel encased hands, the veins starting to bulge and knuckles whiten.
I lousily sat in my seat, mood just the same, with my eyes gazed out of the window out onto the sea of houses washing by.
He didn't even look at me the whole drive to the house.
Neither did I him, only to see if he was looking at me.
Upon arrival to home, I jumped out of his car and sped into the already unlocked house. My dad followed closely behind. I was halfway up the stairs when he finally talked. "Andrew." I stopped, one foot up on one step, the other on the one below it. My back was too him, but my ears were listening to the on-coming storm of bullshit. "You're grounded."
My head whipped around to face him, but I didn't anticipate the aching feeling I got from just doing that. "Seriously?" I knew he was going to ground me, but that didn't stop this feeling of incredulity to attack me.
"Yeah, seriously. You got in a fight today. I'm your dad, not your agent for wrestling." He grounded me. He had just grounded me. I've never been grounded!
But it seemed, things that I never did, were becoming things I would make my living out of.
"For how long?"
"Until your mother wakes up." Groaning out, I climbed the stairs and went towards my room, slamming my door shut.
I had no idea when my mother would wake up. It could have been a month from now, in a year, or within the next ten minutes! This grounding was indefinite, and that was the worst kind any kid could get.
I guess that I meant I couldn't go to the game. Like I wanted to anyway. I didn't want to stay sat up in the stands. I wanted to be on the field, listening to the cheerleaders call out my name and cheer me on. I wanted to hold the ball in my hand, not watch it get passed around by people that weren't me, without me.
No, what I actually wanted, needed, was sleep.
◇
Yay! Early update because I'm bored and schools been canceled because of Hurricane Harvey. I'll be going on Thursday, though. Boo.
But here you guys are! Another chapter from the Straight Boys!
Andrew is off the team.
Zachary was not mentioned so I don't know what he's doing. ;)
What did you guys think?
Leave a LIKE and COMMENT please! I will love you for forever!
And if you all would be dolls and just keep on promoting my book? I want to spread the gay everywhere, get people to read my story even though it's just a load of shit because I suck. But thank you!
Next chapter will be up around Sunday this time! Promise!
Bye :P
It was my fault anyway.
As I sat in Mr. Johannes office, for the second time that year - and it was only the first few weeks! - my mind had finally calmed down, but only to be bombarded with thoughts of what I had just done. I never get into fist fights. Ever. That wasn't me! What was Mr. Johannes going to do? Was I going to get expelled?
"Where's Corbett?" That was the only thing I could come up with to say through my rushing thoughts, finally taking note of the lack of bodies in the room.
"I already talked to him." I nodded once, crossing my arms with a meek awkwardness.
The older man with thinning hair and a somber expression, intertwined his fingers together over the polished wood of his desk, only raising the awkwardness around me. He then said, "What were you thinking, when you got into that fight?" That was the big question now. Everybody and their mother wanted to know, but simply, "I wasn't."
Mr. Johannes bobbed his head once.
"You know, this kind of behavior isn't like you. I understand only half of it, but per school rules, I have called your father." I was now alarmed. "He is on his way right now." I shook my head, scooting up on the edge of my seat.
"Why did you call my dad? He didn't need to know about this!" I hissed, trying my hardest not to give the man a dirty look. My father and I were certainly going to be at it when he got there.
At that exact moment, however, the door to Mr. Johannes' office slowly opened, causing me to turn my head to see who had entered. It was Coach Matthews.
I audibly gulped.
"Coach..." I trailed off, keeping my eyes on him as he made his way around the desk. "...What are you doing here?" Part of me knew, I already knew it, but I was denying it.
The two teachers glanced at each other before staking their eyes on me. Their faces mirrored each other's, their looks drawing the dread upon my throat, almost choking me.
Coach opened his mouth to speak, but I was hardly listening, too stressed to get a word in edgewise. "Since the accident with your... family... Mr. Matthews and I have decided that it's best if you..." I had to hear them say it. They couldn't leave me hanging like that!
"If I what?"
"If you take time off football for a while. Your studies are dropping, not to mention you're getting into a fight as brutal as the one in the cafeteria, and you don't seem to be in the best of shape to keep playing." It was Coach that finished Mr. Johannes' answer. It was Coach Matthews that opened the trap door beneath my feet.
It was my fault though. I did this. If I'd only kept my cake hole shut, just walked away or ignored Corbett Conners like I did everything else, then I wouldn't have been in this situation! If I hadn't gotten so angry!
"You can't do that! I'm fine!" My voice was hoarse, raspy and itching my throat. I wasn't yelling, but it'd felt I'd been yelling for hours.
"We can and we will." I glared at my principal, not finding his commentary very helpful at such a dire time.
"And," Coach added, "since you are being suspended from football for a while, you are also loosing your position as captain. It's only best for the team." So it was true. I was actually getting bumped down to not even on the team anymore. I was loosing everything I'd worked so hard for. I couldn't believe it. Some part of me was hoping, wishing that this, none of this was even remotely true, but my mind drew a blank of how it couldn't not be true. Why did shit like this always happen to me?! I wanted to know why, as I stared down the walls across from me, willing the chipped paint and dust to give me the answer with my eyes. They stayed silent.
"We think," I didn't dare look up at the two people in front of me anymore when they started speaking again, only keeping my dull eyes on the beige trim of the office walls, "that you need time off so you can be with your family. It seems you need it more than you need football." I didn't even like football anymore. I just hated the fact that I was being kicked off the team, that I was being reduced to the four walls of a classroom or a hospital or my room. Football was my only escape, even if I didn't necessarily show up for practice everyday this past week. It was my getaway from everything around me when I needed to get away.
All these irrational dicisions they were making, or maybe they were rational, but I didn't think so, we're making my face throb with pain, like my brain was telling my body that I wasn't alright anymore.
I haven't been for the past week.
"But I'm fine! Let me play. I can do it!" I was practically begging, but they weren't relenting.
Both Mr. Johannes and Coach Matthews shook their heads no. Coach was the one to talk. "You need a break. I don't want someone in such a shape like you running my team."
I didn't know if the rumor was true, if he and Mr. Johannes were actually pining for my release from the football team way before all this went down, or if it was because I had gotten into a fight, that they were letting me go; but I didn't want them to. Although I was barely hanging on with a pinky, I was still holding strong!
"Where's my son?!" From through the thin walls, my dad's voice sifted into my ears. Ms. Hughes' voice gurgled something incoherent out to him, and before the three of us knew it, my dad was stomping into the office. He looked furious, but kept his emotions intact like he was always good at.
"Ah, Mr. Parsley, you're here!" My pops nodded, then took a seat next to me, his spine straight and jaw ticking. "Who's the kid that beat the crap out of Andrew?" I glared at his blonde hair, crossing my arms tighter over my thin chest.
"Corbett Conners. He's a player on the team." My dad did nothing, said nothing, only waited for a further explanation, which he got. The three men discussed how I wasn't going to be playing for the team for a while, although that I was free to go to the games. They talked about how I was going to be getting a few days of detention, much to my dismay, but Corbett was getting suspended for a week, and how I was free to go home after this explanation with my father. School was just now beginning sixth period, and I would have much rather have stayed for the Pre AP Calculus, but my father had dragged me out of the office to his car before I could begin my travels to the classroom.
We were then driving out of the school's parking lot, the air polluted in a kind of toxic silence. Not even the radio was on.
My dad gripped his steering wheel with steel encased hands, the veins starting to bulge and knuckles whiten.
I lousily sat in my seat, mood just the same, with my eyes gazed out of the window out onto the sea of houses washing by.
He didn't even look at me the whole drive to the house.
Neither did I him, only to see if he was looking at me.
Upon arrival to home, I jumped out of his car and sped into the already unlocked house. My dad followed closely behind. I was halfway up the stairs when he finally talked. "Andrew." I stopped, one foot up on one step, the other on the one below it. My back was too him, but my ears were listening to the on-coming storm of bullshit. "You're grounded."
My head whipped around to face him, but I didn't anticipate the aching feeling I got from just doing that. "Seriously?" I knew he was going to ground me, but that didn't stop this feeling of incredulity to attack me.
"Yeah, seriously. You got in a fight today. I'm your dad, not your agent for wrestling." He grounded me. He had just grounded me. I've never been grounded!
But it seemed, things that I never did, were becoming things I would make my living out of.
"For how long?"
"Until your mother wakes up." Groaning out, I climbed the stairs and went towards my room, slamming my door shut.
I had no idea when my mother would wake up. It could have been a month from now, in a year, or within the next ten minutes! This grounding was indefinite, and that was the worst kind any kid could get.
I guess that I meant I couldn't go to the game. Like I wanted to anyway. I didn't want to stay sat up in the stands. I wanted to be on the field, listening to the cheerleaders call out my name and cheer me on. I wanted to hold the ball in my hand, not watch it get passed around by people that weren't me, without me.
No, what I actually wanted, needed, was sleep.
◇
Yay! Early update because I'm bored and schools been canceled because of Hurricane Harvey. I'll be going on Thursday, though. Boo.
But here you guys are! Another chapter from the Straight Boys!
Andrew is off the team.
Zachary was not mentioned so I don't know what he's doing. ;)
What did you guys think?
Leave a LIKE and COMMENT please! I will love you for forever!
And if you all would be dolls and just keep on promoting my book? I want to spread the gay everywhere, get people to read my story even though it's just a load of shit because I suck. But thank you!
Next chapter will be up around Sunday this time! Promise!
Bye :P
End of Straight Boys Chapter 13. Continue reading Chapter 14 or return to Straight Boys book page.