Author's Note: Chapter Eight, I just realized, was rather short. Oops.
Well, here goes another chapter.
"Glory is what we call a drug.
It holds nothing for us,
But we continue to chase it.
Endlessly.
Isn't it the most wonderful feeling though?
Just think of all the applause you'll get,
Just think of all the smiles you've pulled into place.
Now it's your turn
To plaster a smile upon your own face.
It's not quite so easy.
But you'll get the hang of it soon enough.
After all, you have nothing to lose."
The bell rang.
________________________________________
"Hey, Luis," Connie said, falling into step with me as I walked down the hallway to my next class.
I didn't turn my head to look at her. "Hey, Connie. What's up?"
She hesitated to speak. "Not a lot. Just thinking."
"Cool." I had no desire whatsoever to ask her about her latest "wonderings," as Averman liked to call them. She was going to ruin my day; I could feel it.
"So... um, I was wondering if you'd like to come hang out with me and Julie and Scooter tonight. Just for fun. Kind of, I guess." She continued to stare at me, expecting an affirmative response. "But, I mean, if you have something else to do..."
My eyes went from the floor to Kristin, who was passing by. I felt her nudge me with her fist and caught a glimpse of her playful grin.
"Actually, Connie, I think I'm busy tonight. I gotta get to class. See you at practice, right?"
She was now officially confused with what had happened. Maybe she's never been turned down before? Tough luck.
I made a move to get ahead of Connie, but she pulled me back.
"Wait, Luis. Can I at least talk to you later tonight? It's important." Her eyes pleaded with me to accept.
I sighed, though not visibly. "Sure. I'll drop by your room tonight or something."
"Great." I could see her breathe a sigh of relief followed by a suspiciously flirtatious smile.
I caught up with Kristin a minute later at her locker. Leaning against the locker next to hers, I said, "I didn't know you wrote poetry like that. You seem..."
"Like the cheery type?"
Surprised, I nodded. "Yeah. Basically."
"I've got just as much hidden angst as you do, Mendoza."
"How do you know I have hidden angst?"
"I guessed." She slammed her locker shut, causing me to wince.
"You can't guess that," I argued.
"You're right. It's just obvious," she laughed.
____________________________________________
I sat down in Coach Cortez's office after practice that day. I had no idea what was going on. I don't think I was in trouble; I hadn't even caused any commotion at practice.
"Before you ask me why I called you in here, Luis, I need to know something," Coach Cortez began.
I nodded my head in silence, not sure where she was going with this.
"Are you dedicated to hockey?"
Silence.
I frowned at the question. "That's a pretty random question."
"Yes or no? As random as it may be, I'd like you to answer me." She shuffled some papers on her desk and awaited an answer.
"Well, yeah. Otherwise, I wouldn't be playing hockey."
The door opened with an audible squeak, and in entered Kristin.
"Kristin, I'm talking to someone right now. Do you mind?" Coach Cortez said sharply, shooting a disapproving glare in her direction.
Kristin's dark eyes blazed in annoyance. "Sure, Coach. I'll just come back when this important issue is no longer important," she threw at Coach Cortez and waved an envelope in the air.
Coach merely nodded and her face became cold. "Leave, Kristin. Luis," she said, turning back to me, "You may leave as well."
Kristin watched as I got up from my seat, picking up my bag. I slipped by her body in the doorway and couldn't help but notice her narrowed and angry eyes.
She slammed the door behind us.
"Damn it. I hate that lady," she mumbled, walking quickly towards the exit.
"What was that all about?"
"My mom's a bitch. Haven't you noticed that yet?"
I stopped. Holy shit... I never would have guessed. No wonder she's been coming and going into Coach Cortez's office everyday. But they're nothing alike.
"What?" she asked, confused by my reaction.
"Let me get this straight. Coach Cortez is your mom."
"Yeah..." she replied, slowly and unsure. "What about it?"
"Why do you call her 'Coach,' then?"
Kristin's fingers tapped the railing on the stairs. "Well, she doesn't like being called 'mom.'"
"Oh." Big surprise.
"Yeah." Her face fell, and then she looked at me again. "I wish she hadn't become a coach, you know? But she loves hockey too much. And then I wonder why she would want to coach hockey at a school like Eden Hall. I mean, I can't even keep up my grades for this crap."
"Neither can I, but I just came on scholarship," I shrugged.
She laughed. "No, trust me, your grades are so much better than mine will ever be. And I have no scholarship. Coach says it's risky stuff. I can't fail or I'll get kicked out. She already has to pay for my tuition."
I shook my head, looking out towards the courtyard. "That sucks."
Her gaze followed mine, and she too began to stare intently at the glowing- orange sun setting on the green of the slightly curved landscape and leaving shadows that stretched out over the harsh exterior of the school buildings. "Do you like my mom? As a coach, I mean."
"She's okay. A little unsympathetic at times, but better than nothing."
"She thinks pretty highly of you from what she's told me. It's kind of weird. She prefers her hockey players to her own daughter."
My eyes pulled away from the sun-draped school grounds, and I cocked an eyebrow in surprise.
"She sees good things in store for you. So do I."
___________________________________________
I left Charlie in our dorm room at six o' clock that night to go visit Connie as I had promised.
Tornado warning: High.
I wasn't going to go thinking she had good intentions in mind. I knew she was planning something. Connie was never as innocent as she looked. And to think I had once liked her. I'm convinced that it was my alter ego who had liked her, not the real me.
Knocking on her door (she shared a room with Kelly, a sophomore known to hang around with both the cheerleaders and yearbook staff cliques), I released a tired and heavy sigh. This wasn't what I had planned for my school year, but it wasn't unexpected either.
Connie opened the door slightly, a smile breaking out on her face as soon as she saw me. "Luis! Come in."
I stepped inside the room. It was plastered with posters of singers, actors, hockey players, and with random flower decorations: the whole girl shmeel.
She picked up a couple of books on her bed and tossed them onto a desk that seemed on the verge of collapsing. "Welcome to the ultimate girl's room," she giggled.
I took a closer look at one of the framed pictures on the wall of the Ducks' peewee hockey team. The one next to it was of our team at the Goodwill Games. "Well, these are decent," I commented on the photographs.
When she didn't answer, I turned around to face her.
I can remember distinctly her lips on mine. Everything else I'll leave to your imagination. But that would be a dangerous thing to do, wouldn't it?
"Glory is what we call a drug.
It holds nothing for us,
But we continue to chase it.
Endlessly.
Isn't it the most wonderful feeling though?
Just think of all the applause you'll get,
Just think of all the smiles you've pulled into place.
Now it's your turn
To plaster a smile upon your own face.
It's not quite so easy.
But you'll get the hang of it soon enough.
After all, you have nothing to lose."
The bell rang.
________________________________________
"Hey, Luis," Connie said, falling into step with me as I walked down the hallway to my next class.
I didn't turn my head to look at her. "Hey, Connie. What's up?"
She hesitated to speak. "Not a lot. Just thinking."
"Cool." I had no desire whatsoever to ask her about her latest "wonderings," as Averman liked to call them. She was going to ruin my day; I could feel it.
"So... um, I was wondering if you'd like to come hang out with me and Julie and Scooter tonight. Just for fun. Kind of, I guess." She continued to stare at me, expecting an affirmative response. "But, I mean, if you have something else to do..."
My eyes went from the floor to Kristin, who was passing by. I felt her nudge me with her fist and caught a glimpse of her playful grin.
"Actually, Connie, I think I'm busy tonight. I gotta get to class. See you at practice, right?"
She was now officially confused with what had happened. Maybe she's never been turned down before? Tough luck.
I made a move to get ahead of Connie, but she pulled me back.
"Wait, Luis. Can I at least talk to you later tonight? It's important." Her eyes pleaded with me to accept.
I sighed, though not visibly. "Sure. I'll drop by your room tonight or something."
"Great." I could see her breathe a sigh of relief followed by a suspiciously flirtatious smile.
I caught up with Kristin a minute later at her locker. Leaning against the locker next to hers, I said, "I didn't know you wrote poetry like that. You seem..."
"Like the cheery type?"
Surprised, I nodded. "Yeah. Basically."
"I've got just as much hidden angst as you do, Mendoza."
"How do you know I have hidden angst?"
"I guessed." She slammed her locker shut, causing me to wince.
"You can't guess that," I argued.
"You're right. It's just obvious," she laughed.
____________________________________________
I sat down in Coach Cortez's office after practice that day. I had no idea what was going on. I don't think I was in trouble; I hadn't even caused any commotion at practice.
"Before you ask me why I called you in here, Luis, I need to know something," Coach Cortez began.
I nodded my head in silence, not sure where she was going with this.
"Are you dedicated to hockey?"
Silence.
I frowned at the question. "That's a pretty random question."
"Yes or no? As random as it may be, I'd like you to answer me." She shuffled some papers on her desk and awaited an answer.
"Well, yeah. Otherwise, I wouldn't be playing hockey."
The door opened with an audible squeak, and in entered Kristin.
"Kristin, I'm talking to someone right now. Do you mind?" Coach Cortez said sharply, shooting a disapproving glare in her direction.
Kristin's dark eyes blazed in annoyance. "Sure, Coach. I'll just come back when this important issue is no longer important," she threw at Coach Cortez and waved an envelope in the air.
Coach merely nodded and her face became cold. "Leave, Kristin. Luis," she said, turning back to me, "You may leave as well."
Kristin watched as I got up from my seat, picking up my bag. I slipped by her body in the doorway and couldn't help but notice her narrowed and angry eyes.
She slammed the door behind us.
"Damn it. I hate that lady," she mumbled, walking quickly towards the exit.
"What was that all about?"
"My mom's a bitch. Haven't you noticed that yet?"
I stopped. Holy shit... I never would have guessed. No wonder she's been coming and going into Coach Cortez's office everyday. But they're nothing alike.
"What?" she asked, confused by my reaction.
"Let me get this straight. Coach Cortez is your mom."
"Yeah..." she replied, slowly and unsure. "What about it?"
"Why do you call her 'Coach,' then?"
Kristin's fingers tapped the railing on the stairs. "Well, she doesn't like being called 'mom.'"
"Oh." Big surprise.
"Yeah." Her face fell, and then she looked at me again. "I wish she hadn't become a coach, you know? But she loves hockey too much. And then I wonder why she would want to coach hockey at a school like Eden Hall. I mean, I can't even keep up my grades for this crap."
"Neither can I, but I just came on scholarship," I shrugged.
She laughed. "No, trust me, your grades are so much better than mine will ever be. And I have no scholarship. Coach says it's risky stuff. I can't fail or I'll get kicked out. She already has to pay for my tuition."
I shook my head, looking out towards the courtyard. "That sucks."
Her gaze followed mine, and she too began to stare intently at the glowing- orange sun setting on the green of the slightly curved landscape and leaving shadows that stretched out over the harsh exterior of the school buildings. "Do you like my mom? As a coach, I mean."
"She's okay. A little unsympathetic at times, but better than nothing."
"She thinks pretty highly of you from what she's told me. It's kind of weird. She prefers her hockey players to her own daughter."
My eyes pulled away from the sun-draped school grounds, and I cocked an eyebrow in surprise.
"She sees good things in store for you. So do I."
___________________________________________
I left Charlie in our dorm room at six o' clock that night to go visit Connie as I had promised.
Tornado warning: High.
I wasn't going to go thinking she had good intentions in mind. I knew she was planning something. Connie was never as innocent as she looked. And to think I had once liked her. I'm convinced that it was my alter ego who had liked her, not the real me.
Knocking on her door (she shared a room with Kelly, a sophomore known to hang around with both the cheerleaders and yearbook staff cliques), I released a tired and heavy sigh. This wasn't what I had planned for my school year, but it wasn't unexpected either.
Connie opened the door slightly, a smile breaking out on her face as soon as she saw me. "Luis! Come in."
I stepped inside the room. It was plastered with posters of singers, actors, hockey players, and with random flower decorations: the whole girl shmeel.
She picked up a couple of books on her bed and tossed them onto a desk that seemed on the verge of collapsing. "Welcome to the ultimate girl's room," she giggled.
I took a closer look at one of the framed pictures on the wall of the Ducks' peewee hockey team. The one next to it was of our team at the Goodwill Games. "Well, these are decent," I commented on the photographs.
When she didn't answer, I turned around to face her.
I can remember distinctly her lips on mine. Everything else I'll leave to your imagination. But that would be a dangerous thing to do, wouldn't it?