Chapter Text
"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? I know you always think you can handle yourself, but its the Bryers...I mean its the Breyers the super douchebags," Freddie rambled.
I laughed at Freddie's signature nickname for our favorite bullies. I appreciate his way to defuse almost any situation with jokes.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. It's just detention," I assured him. "How bad can it be?"
"Well your cleaning gum from under the gym bleachers and it's with the Bryers," Freddie pointed out.
"Not helping."
"Sorry, but are you sure you won't need me?" Freddie asked again.
"Yes, I'll be fine," I assured Freddie, grabbing on to his shoulders. "I'll see you back home."
"Okay, I just feel bad," Freddie said, staring down at his feet, "Because it's my fault your in this mess anyway."
I sighed, "Freddie, its not your fault.
Freddie looked up and gave me a cornered look.
"And it's not mine either I couldn't let them beat you," I said quickly.
Freddie didn't say anything except give me that goofy smile he's perfected. "Just be careful and make it home in one piece."
"Yeah, I'll see you later," I said as I waved bye to Freddie before I pushed open the gym doors and walked into the lion's den.
When I walked into the Gym, I saw the Bryers weren't here yet. (BIg surprise.) The only person there was the gym teacher for the whole school who happened to be the boy's basketball coach, Mr. Hoffman.
Mr. Hoffman was a stocky guy that always wore polo shirts of different colleges such as Temple and Penn State. He wore a well-trimmed goatee that went along with his curly jet black hair. He always looked pissed, which added a level of intimidation when he looked at you. He was sitting on the bleachers staring at a clipboard, he didn't look up when I came in, so I went to him.
"Excuse me, I'm here for detention," I asked cautiously. I didn't know him that well since I had skipped so much and missed a lot of classes, including gym class.
"Name?" He asked sternly, not looking up from his clipboard.
"Billy, Billy Batson," I said quickly. He flipped up a paper as he dragged his finger down looking for my name. "Billy Batson, Billy Bats- ah, there you are."
He looked up from the clipboard with a straight face. I was already anxious with the Bryers coming, and Mr. Hoffman wasn't helping. "So you'll be scrapping gum with two other boys," He said as he looked around for the Bryers, "You seem to be the only one here, so I'll let you start."
He grabbed a bucket and one of those scraping tools from behind him and handed both items to me. "Use the scraper to get the gum then put the gum in the bucket, got it?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but he didn't stop talking, "Alright get going, the bleachers aren't going to clean themselves."
"Yes, sir," I said quickly grabbing the scraper and bucket before heading up the bleachers.
As I started to scrape gum, I understood why they made us do it instead of the janitors. It wasn't easy since most of the gum was hardened and often more than just a single piece. Some pieces still had their color while others were pitch black with little bits of hair or other parts of food stuck in them.
I had been scraping the gum for about ten minutes when I heard the gym doors open, and it was the Bryers. Brett walked in with the usual arrogant attitude while Burt continued looking as dumb as always. I glared at them as they walked in, Brett caught on. "What are you staring at?"
I didn't reply instead I just looked down and continued scraping gum. Brett and Burke had no interest in scraping gum; instead, they thought they would have some fun.
The coach always kept racks of basketball in the gym since the school had nowhere else to put them so The Bryers thought it would be fun to play a game of basketball. I heard the dribbling of the ball, but I didn't look up at all I just wanted to get through detention without getting in any more trouble.
Living with Rosa and Victor had changed how I thought about school. Before I didn't really care because I was always running away and looking for my Mom, but now I had people who cared about me, and I can still remember how mad Victor got when he found out I was skipping class and fighting. They explained that they cared about me, which meant they cared about my schoolwork, so now I'm making an effort to keep my head down and do well in class. So fighting isn't really filed in "keep your head down and do well in class," so I expected to be in big trouble with Victor when I got home. I had faith that maybe he won't be as mad if I tell him I was defending Freddie.
Unfourtantly, the Bryers like to make things difficult because they always picked on Freddie and me, but mostly Freddie. Them bullying Freddie was how I ended up scraping gum anyway.
Earlier today, while Freddie and I were heading to class Brett, knocked Freddie's crutch over making him fall on his back. I was pissed because Freddie meant a lot to me. He was my best friend and my brother.
I was still adjusting to him as a brother, and Freddie is continuously helping me with that. Because I don't know how to be a brother as I'm still adjusting to being part of the family.
I didn't hear the ball dribbling anymore, so I looked up and saw Brett and Burke heading over to me with Brett holding the ball under his right arm. "Hey, bitch you want to play? I bet you would lose!" Brett said, laughing alongside Burt.
I glared at Brett before turning back to what I was doing. I hoped he would drop it, but I only pissed him off.
"Hey, bitch boy I was talking to you!" Brett yelled. I continued to ignore him. "You deaf?"
I looked up for a second I wish I hadn't. His basketball collided with my chest, knocking the wind out of me.
"Ha!" Burt laughed.
"That should teach you for fucking disrespecting me!" Brett yelled, getting right in my face. "No how about we play a game or are you too much of a pussy."
I knew taking his challenge was stupid, but I couldn't help myself because I knew if I showed up this guy, it would be so satisfying plus maybe he'd give Freddie and me a day off. (Doubtful I know.)
I stood up and grabbed the ball that had rolled off my chest and onto the floor. I had never played basketball, but I lived in a home where the dad was playing basketball with his kids all the time. I never played, but I did watch one time and saw how you shoot the ball, so I figured that was enough.
Brett looked surprised, but only for a second as he smirked and followed me over.
"First to ten, let's see what you got," Brett said, still smirking.
I knew he was confident, but I figured he would think I had no idea what I was doing which he is probably right, but how hard could it be to get a ball in a hoop.
I passed him the ball, and he passed it back, I saw Brett turn his head and look at Burt who was now sitting on the bleachers. I knew he was distracted, so I made my move.
I started dribbling the ball as I ran right by him. "Shit!" Brett cursed as he chased after me. I threw the ball up off the backboard and watched it land in the hoop.
I smiled as I grabbed the ball and ran back and made sure to stare right into Brett's eyes.
"You got lucky; it won't happen again," Brett promised scowling.
He was probably right, but I knew I had to try for Freddie and me.
I passed him the ball as he gave it back. This time he didn't look at Burt; instead, he kept his eyes lasered to me. He started to back up towards the hoop, probably afraid I would run by him again. I knew I could shoot now like I saw those kids do so long ago.
I jumped in the air and let the ball fly out of my arms, it seemed to be in the air forever, but when it landed, it was satisfying. The ball landed in the hoop.
I was proud, and Brett was pissed, but I didn't get to enjoy my moment for long.
"What the hell are you guys doing?!"
The Gym door had swung open with Coach Hoffman being behind them. He was pissed, and I knew I was dead.
I panicked and felt instantly as anxious as I had earlier and quickly walked back to the bleachers to scrape gum. "Sorry," I muttered as I walked.
"Uh, the coach we were just..." Brett tried to say, but the coach was having none of it.
"I don't care what you were doing. You're supposed to be scraping gum. Your lucky Bryer that you can even play Friday after the stunt you pulled this morning!" The coach yelled while a vein popped out of his skull.
Brett made a weird noise as he swallowed his words. I wanted to laugh, but due to the anxiety welled up in my chest, I kept quiet.
"As for you!" The coach yelled, storming over to me. I was expecting to get yelled at, but the coach's face changed from a wave of blinding anger to a wave of awe.
"Nice shot, how would you like to try out for the team tomorrow after school?" He asked, putting his hand out for a handshake.
"What?" I asked, confused as hell.
"You heard me I want you to try out for the team, you got talent kid. Trust me," The coach explained.
I was in shock, I thought he would be pissed with me, but here he was trying to get me to try out for a basketball team. I was in so much shock my voice was stuck in my throat.
Meanwhile, Brett had found his voice and was coming over to us. "No coach you can't... he's not even good."
"Quiet, you're already in enough trouble and from the three-pointer he just made he obviously is good," Coach said, turning to me, "Very good."
"He also made a nice layup," Burt added.
"Shut up, Burt," Brett said venomously.
"So, what do you say, can you try out tomorrow?" The coach asked again looking like a kid on Christmas morning.
I was speechless, and if I'm honest, I don't really do sports or any clubs. With most of my life spent running from homes and looking for my Mom, I haven't had time for sports or clubs. And if Brett was on the team, I wanted no part of this team.
"Thanks for the offer, but I'm good," I told coach as I stood up throwing on my jacket.
"You're good?" Coach asked, confused.
"Yeah, I'm good," I explained, throwing my bag over my shoulder.
"Well, can you just think about it and let me know tomorrow I think you could be an asset for the team this year," He explained gleefully.
"I guess. Can I go now?" I muttered.
"Yeah, you can go," Coach said, disappointed.
I hurried out of the gym, not looking back until I was out in the frigid November air.