The Sock Story
Summary: After watching the extra scene in the third movie with the socks I was inspired. Why does each boy do what he does? Here is the answer to that question.
"I never took mine out of my locker."
SOPHMORE YEAR: CHAD
"MOM! I can't find my socks!" I yelled.
"Which pair?" she yelled back at me.
"ANY PAIR! I HAVE NO CLEAN SOCKS!" I yelled, freaking out. Now, normally, that wouldn't bother me. I'd just go without socks, or steal my sister's socks. When I stole her socks, I'd write a note saying that I couldn't participate in P.E. though, because her socks have ponies or are pink. She's eight, what are you gonna do? She's also got really big feet...anyway. But that day was no ordinary day. It was the day of the league championship game, the big day. I couldn't show up at the league championship game with PINK SOCKS! This just wasn't an option.
"Why don't you use one of the dirty pairs?" my mom screamed at me.
"One of the- one of the dirty pairs?! MOM! Dirty socks are bad luck, EVERYONE knows that!" I yelled. How could she even suggest something like that?
"SORRY! Well...go without socks!"
"I need socks. My feet will be all torn up if I'm running around the gym in NEW SHOES with NO SOCKS ON!" I screamed back down the stairs. Just to make my point, I ran downstairs with no socks on, holding my shoes by the laces. She gave me the mom look.
"Chad, stop being so dramatic. I swear, you could be in the Drama Department, with how melodramatic you act," she told me.
"Not funny. Mommy, what am I going to do?" I whined.
"Well...you could wear your dad's socks," she suggested.
"All of his socks are dirty too!"
"Um..." I could tell she was running out of ideas. "When's the game?"
"I have to be there in half an hour," I told her.
"We'll go to the store. Quick, get your sister's socks!" she said, running to get her purse.
"Okay!"
Twenty minutes later we're at Target, and they have...no socks!
"MOM!" I yelled.
"I'm looking! Um..." there was that crease in her forehead. "There's these."
"MOTHER! THOSE ARE PINK, HELLO KITTY SOCKS!" I screamed at her.
"I'm sorry! I don't-" she stopped talking and pulled out her vibrating cell phone. "What's going on...yes, I am aware Chad has to be there in ten minutes...well, he doesn't have socks...oh! Um...Alright, I'll tell him," she said, and hung up.
"What's going on?"
"Well...your sister stole your last pair of socks. She's at the gym and she'll give them to you then," mom said, cringing.
"I'm not mad at you mom, but can I have permission to beat the tar out of Spirit?" I asked her as nicely as I could under those circumstances.
"Well, don't beat the tar out of her, just make the tar get jumbled up a bit," my mom said, smiling. Forget all this bustle, from now on, my socks aren't leaving my locker. Then my stupid sister can't steal them.
EARLIER THAT SAME DAY: JASON
Mine are in my lunch box.
"Are you sure you have everything you need?" my brother, Alex, called for what seemed to be the hundredth time.
"YES! I AM ABSOLUTELY, ONE HUNDRED PERCENT-"
"Jason, you left your jersey in the bathroom!" my sister, Terry, said, handing it to me. I smiled at my brother.
"Now, I have everything!"
"What about the bag? Are you sure you didn't take Terry's by accident?" Terry is on the volleyball team.
"I'm sure. Look, it says 'Cross'." I told him. He gave me a funny look.
"What?"
"Cross? All of our...never mind. Just open the first pocket. If it has tampons or pads in it, then youknow it's not yours," he said.
"How do you know they'll be in the first pocket?" I asked him.
"Because I accidentally took Terry's bag to my game once, and the first pocket had tampons and pads in it," he said. I believed him. He could be a real scatter-brain sometimes. Oh look, a robin outside the window! Pretty...anyway...I searched through the first pocket and only found some powder.
"What's that?" Alex asked.
"Odor Powder for my shoes. We all stink, but some stink more than others, and nobody wants to sit next to a smelly guy," I told him. Or just one guy in particular...his name starts with a T and ends with a ROY...
"Alrighty then, let's go," he said, opening the door. We went to the car.
"Do you think mom'll come to the game?" I asked him. Don't ask me why I did, but I did.
"Terry's talking to her, but I wouldn't count on it," Alex warned. I didn't care. A "maybe" was enough for me.
"Okay," I said, happier than I felt in a long time.
"Jason! Have you seen Chad?" Troy called to me when I got to the locker room.
"No, why? Was I supposed to pick him up?" I asked.
"No, I just haven't been able to get a hold of him. My dad's throwing a fit," Troy said. I shrugged. I went to my locker and opened my bad. What I pulled out surprised me to no ends...it was the sandwich I made for lunch tomorrow. What's going on? I froze up.
"Hey, Jason? Could you hand the Odor Powder stuff? My feet are already smelling really bad," Troy laughed. I didn't answer.
"Jason? Jason? What's wrong?"
"I don't have your powder," I said.
"Okay, well, I might be able to get my dad to go some, we've still got a good fourty-five minutes before we have to get out here," Troy said.
"I don't have my jersey either. Or my pants...or my socks," I told him. He came to look over my shoulder.
"What's with all the lunch stuff?" he asked me.
"I grabbed my lunch box instead of my gym bag!" I screamed.
"Why didn't you check before you left the house?!" Troy screamed back.
"I did check! I pulled out your..." I opened the first pocket and pulled out the Odor Powder. I sprinkled something into my hand and smelled it. It smelled salty. Just to check, I licked it. It was definitely salt. "I thought it was Odor Powder..." I said helplessly.
"Think fast Jason! What are we going to do?" Troy asked me.
"But I did the tampon and pad check..." I said.
"Okay, you're no help. I could...we could...that's it!" Troy screamed suddenly. I jumped up.
"I'll get my dad to drive to your house and get your basketball bag, and then everything will be okay!" Troy said excitedly. I smiled at him. "Have you learned something from this experience?" Troy asked me. I looked at him square in the eye, not even joking around.
"Yes I have learned something. That something I have learned is to put my socks in my lunch box from now on," I told him seriously. He stared at me.
"Right...I'm going to go talk to my dad."
"I'm a genius," I said out loud.
EARLIER THAT DAY: ZEKE
I dug through my hamper, looking for socks. It figures that the one day my dad decides that he has better things to do than do our laundry is the one day I wish he would do laundry. I'm aware of the fact that you're not supposed to wear dirty socks on a day of a big game, but what Chad doesn't know won't hurt him. Now, where are my socks.
"CHAD! Come one, we've got to go!" my dad screamed downstairs.
"I'm coming!" I said, finally finding a matching pair. I smelled them, and pee-yoo, they smelled nasty, but I was going to have to deal with that. I'd just borrow some of Jason's Odor Powder. I'm all set.
Coach got us together before the game to talk strategy. He looked more than a little stressed. He told us that no matter what, we were all winners, but he'd really appreciate it if we won. We laughed and went out onto the court. Coach called me over.
"Zeke? You are aware that you smell pretty bad already, right?" he asked. I blushed.
"Don't worry, I'll steal some powder when the cheerleaders come out," I told him and he smiled, patting my back. Troy called me over and the game started.
"We are the Wildcats!" the cheerleaders screamed at the top of their lungs. I may not understand why everyone either hates or loves all the cheerleaders, but I have to respect them. I'm sure that none of them are even a little happy seeming as we're losing, but they get out there and smile like there's no tomorrow. Kudos to them.
Troy grabs my arm when we get to the locker.
"Zeke, you smell worse than I do!" Troy tells me.
"I was just about to get some stuff from Jason," I told him. I went over to Jason's locker.
"Can I get some Odor Powder?" I asked him.
"Well, it's actually called Odor Eater, but yeah, you can have some," he told me.
"Thanks." I take the stuff and put it in my shoes. I saw Jason's eyes get wide when I pulled off my shoe, but when I hit him, he turned around. There, that should help it a bit.
"Team huddle!" Troy yelled.
"WILDCATS' WIN!" the announcer screamed. We all started yelling from the top of our lungs. My feet smelled like crazy. I heard some of the cheerleaders talking.
"How do you get your outfit to stay so wrinkle-free?" one asked.
"I vacuum-pack it!" she said. Vacuum-pack! Why didn't I think of that for my socks?! They won't smell and they won't look dirty! GENIUS!