Game Changers (7 page)

He wasn't going to lie to his buds, he was just going to leave some stuff out, basically. He didn't think Shawn's secret — about not wanting to play quarterback — should be that big a secret. But it was. Because it was Shawn's secret.

And Ben had promised.

His mom would tell him sometimes when she was going over one of his English papers, it wasn't what you put that made your writing better, it was what you left out.

And Coop talked all the time about what he called the “Bro Code,” what guys were allowed to do and say and what they weren't, Ben and Sam just rolling their eyes when he did, knowing he was just making up rules as he went along.

One time Ben pressed Coop on what he thought was the single most important part of the Bro Code and Coop thought about that for a minute and said, “Having each other's backs, no matter what.”

Sam and Coop both knew Ben would have their backs, no matter what the situation. But this situation was different: For now, Ben had to have Shawn's back, too. He was already
hoping that when Shawn started to see how much he could trust the Core Four, he'd tell the others that he was only playing quarterback to please his dad.

Ben knew that no matter how much he could justify what he was doing, he and Sam and Coop had always told one another everything. If they got their feelings hurt later because Ben had been holding back on them, Ben would have to deal with that. Maybe that was the
real
Bro Code.

For now, though, he needed to keep it simple: Shawn was too tight, they had to find a way to loosen him up.

When he explained that to Sam and Coop in his basement, Coop said, “And this is our job … why?”

They had decided not to watch a movie after the Packers game, had been playing Madden on the big screen instead. When Lily found out there was no movie, she called and informed them her idea of fun wasn't watching them lose their minds over a video game, but she
might
wander by later if there was time before supper.

“It's not our
job
,” Ben said. “He's our teammate, and he asked for our help. So it's like when you help a teammate up after he gets knocked down in a game.”

He looked over at Sam, down at the other end of the long couch. Waiting for some backup. Only this time it wasn't coming.

“Count me out,” he said.

“You're kidding, right?”

Sam said, “You're the one that must be kidding. If I'm gonna do some extra work, it's not gonna be with him. Or
for
him.”

“Same,” Coop said. “It might be your idea of the Code to prop this guy up. Not mine. You heard the way he called me out yesterday?”

“Everybody says stuff they don't mean,” Ben said. “You've done it plenty of times.”

“Dude,” Coop said. “Trust me. He meant it.”

“The only guy on the team who doesn't think Shawn is a jerk is you,” Sam said.

“He's not that bad,” Ben said.

“You say,” Coop said.

“You're really not gonna do this?” Ben said.

Feeling himself starting to get hot.

“I'd do almost anything for you and you know I would, because I have,” Coop said. “But I don't feel like playing today. And I really don't feel like playing with
him
.”

“I'd do it for you guys,” Ben said, “if you asked.”

Sam said, “I wouldn't ask.”

Ben knew he had to drop it. They never fought. And he didn't want to fight over Shawn O'Brien. And could feel them getting close.

Or maybe they were already there.

“The guy's a teammate, that's all I'm saying,” Ben said.

Like he was back to talking himself into something, convincing himself he was doing the right thing, as hard as it was.

Sam and Coop were at the bottom of the stairs now, on their way out. Sam looked at Ben and said, “He's our teammate? Maybe you could tell him to start acting like one.”

Ben waited a few minutes and then went upstairs himself. He still needed one more player to give Shawn the kind of workout he planned, and he knew where to find one.

 

Ben was throwing the ball around with his dad when Shawn showed up on his bike. When Ben had told Jeff McBain what he had planned for Shawn, his dad had said, “Love it.”

“You don't mind?”

“I tell you all the time,” his dad said. “I can still run straight ahead. I just can't go backward anymore.”

Without telling his dad more than he should, without breaking his promise, Ben said, “I think he could use a little break from his dad, but he didn't say anything about mine.”

Ben told Shawn it was a simple drill. His dad would rush him as hard as he could. Shawn had to get his pass off to Ben before getting touched. But instead of the three count or five count you usually gave the quarterback in touch football, Ben said Shawn wasn't getting any count.

“Instead of one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi,” Ben said, “I'm sort of giving you
no
-Mississippi.”

“I'm not feelin' you on this,” Shawn said.

“My dad's bigger than anybody who's going to rush you,” Ben said. “And he's gonna give you less time than you'd get in a game even if there was this almost perfect-o blitz. And you're gonna find out if you can still stand in there and complete passes.”

“I tell Ben all the time,” Ben's dad said, “that part of the
fun of sports is finding out you can do things you didn't know you could.”

Ben said, “It'll be fun.”

“Maybe for you.”

Ben said, “Nah. For both of us. You don't need to make perfect throws every time. But I'll bet you make more than you thought you would.”

Ben's dad didn't rush Shawn as hard as he could, but did come at him pretty hard, even yelling his head off sometimes as he did. At first Shawn tried to get rid of the ball too quickly, missing Ben on short patterns, the ball flying all over the place almost like he was throwing it away on purpose.

“See what I mean,” Shawn said to Ben. “I even stink here.”

Ben could see him working as hard as he could to control his temper. Not for Ben's benefit. For Ben's dad.

Ben said, “Relax, dude. You'll get better at it.”

Ben wasn't sure he believed that. But thought it sounded good.

Slowly, though, Shawn
did
get better over the hour the three of them were out there. He wasn't Ben Roethlisberger standing in against the rush until the last possible moment. Or Rodgers or Mike Vick throwing accurately on the run. But he started connecting on his passes. Ben's dad would end the play by getting a hand on him once in a while. Just not as often the longer they stayed at it.

Ben had already called “last play” a couple of times, wanting Shawn to end with a good throw, like they were shooting hoops and Ben wanted to make sure Shawn made his last shot.

But Shawn had underthrown Ben on one pass, then threw the next one wide and outside.

“Okay,” Ben said. “
Last
last one, and this time I mean it.”

“Good,” his dad said. “Because now I can't even run straight ahead.”

Finally Shawn delivered the goods. It looked like Ben's dad was on him, but then Shawn pump-faked, got Ben's dad to go flying past him, scrambled to his right, motioning with his left hand for Ben to go deep, planting and throwing and delivering a perfect strike at least thirty yards down McBain Field.

Money.

Money, money, money
, Ben thought.

Ben reacted as if they'd gotten a do-over on the end of the Midvale game, sprinting back and jumping in the air and giving Shawn a flying chest bump, nearly falling down in the process.

“Okay,” Ben said, “now
that
sucker we can quit on.”

Ben's dad said, “Throw like that against Hewitt on Saturday and we'll be just fine.”

“I'll try,” Shawn said.

“See, that's the thing,” Ben said. “
Don't
try. Just let it happen.”

Shawn smiled and said, “Okay, I'll try
that
.”

“You'll be fine,” Ben's dad said to him. “And now I am going to go across the street and spend the next several years in a hot bath.”

Just Ben and Shawn on the field now. Shawn reached out with his fist and Ben tapped it. He didn't know if this was real
or not, if this was the real Shawn, the way he wasn't sure if the Shawn he'd been with at the O'Briens' field was real.

But he'd go with this one for now. And found himself wishing that Sam and Coop
had
stuck around.

“Thanks,” Shawn said.

“What friends are for,” Ben said.

Shawn got on his bike and left. When he was out of sight down the street, Lily Wyatt stepped out from behind the maple tree and said, “Hey, you.”

“Hey, yourself,” Ben said, surprised to see her. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.”

“You've been spying?”

“Observing,” she said. “
Huge
difference.”

She raised an eyebrow on him, the way she did sometimes, knowing she was good at it. When Ben tried to practice the same look in a mirror, he just looked confused.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing,” Lily said.

“You're giving me a look.”

“What look?”

“You know what look.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Lily Wyatt said. “But I will make one observation, off my observing.”

Ben waited.

Lily said, “Nobody gets that happy in a pretend game.”

“The guy made a great throw.”

“Even I could see that,” Lily said. “But you acted as if your
new friend had just won the championship of the entire universe.”

“Well, maybe we did get a little too excited,” Ben said. “We're just trying to prop him up on account of the way yesterday's game ended.”

He saw her staring at him now. Giving Ben what he thought of as her “big eyes.” When she did that, Ben usually found himself wanting to hide his own thoughts.

“Anything you're not telling me?” Lily said.

Ben and Shawn were able to work out a couple of more times at McBain, after school on Tuesday and Friday. Just the two of them. Both times Ben asked Sam and Coop to join them.

Both times Sam and Coop said no.

Ben asked them why they were so dug in on Shawn, and Coop said, “I don't have to know who I don't want to know.”

“But you really
don't
know him.”

“Well, then, problem solved,” Coop said.

“What about you?” Ben said to Sam.

Sam said, “I'm waiting to see if he'll be as good a friend to you as you are to him.”

Then Sam said, “It's hard enough acting like I'm happy to be catching passes from him — when he gets one anywhere near me, that is — when I know it should be you. It would be even harder for me to pretend I want to be his friend. I'm not a phony.”

Ben said, “I know that.”

“I should be catching passes from you,” he said. “Then the season would be as fun as it's supposed to be.”

Ben kept trying to find fun ways for football to be more fun to Shawn, but to also get him throwing better under pressure. On Friday, Ben's dad hung a tire from the maple tree at McBain. When Shawn got there after school, Ben rushed him like a crazy man, and told Shawn they were staying out there until he could either put the ball through the tire, or at least hit it.

“You're sure this is fun?” Shawn said.

Ben said, “Hey, you think it's fun for me being a defensive tackle?”

Lily showed up on Friday just as Shawn was leaving. They knew each other a little from school. But just a little.

“Can I ask you one serious question?” Lily said, before she started going out for passes.

“Like I could stop you even if I wanted.”

Lily said, “Does it bother you that you're trying to help Shawn get better at something you're already better at than
him
?”

Ben grinned. “It did at first, no lie. But I just keep telling myself that if it helps the team, it's worth it.”

“All about the team with you,” she said, “isn't it?”

“Well,
yeah
,” he said.

“Boy, there's something about this guy Sam and Coop really don't like,” she said.

“You're
kidding
,” Ben said, “I hadn't picked up on that.”

Even though Shawn always seemed to throw pretty well at practice, Ben thought he could see improvement out of him as the week went along. And Thursday's scrimmage ended
with him pulling the ball down on a busted pass play, running to his right, avoiding a linebacker, hitting Kevin Nolti with a strike in the middle of the field. Doing what Ben wanted him to do in games, reacting instead of thinking too much.

Ben and Coop and Sam walked off the field together.

“You gotta admit, he's looking better,” Ben said. “You gotta give me that.”

“In practice,” Coop said.

“What about the thing that coaches are always telling us, that you practice like you play?” Ben said.

“Shawn doesn't,” Sam said.

“Even if he is your new best friend,” Coop said.

“You know that's not right,” Ben said.

“I'm right about Shawn until he proves me wrong,” Sam Brown said.

Ben wanted Shawn to prove Sam wrong. And Coop. But for now, Ben knew Sam
was
right. Even though they'd only been playing town football since the Bantam Division, they all knew something by now: There
were
guys who could practice like total champions, just never bring that with them to Saturday, when you started keeping score.

Coop's mom was driving them all home tonight. On their way to the parking lot a few minutes later, Coach O'Brien and Shawn were up ahead of them, Coach with his arm around Shawn's shoulders, talking away, Shawn nodding his head up and down, as if to keep up with whatever he was being told.

His dad coaching all the way to the car.