Second Chance (9 page)

“
Stop
changing his diapers,
Miles
.
The kid
’
s got to grow up sooner or later.
”

He turns his
scowl
back to me
,
and I keep my face level with his
.
His
green
eyes are
smoldering
with anger
.

“
You want to curl up and die, be my guest
.
But you
’re not taking the team
down
with
you
,” h
e says
.
Todd and Bubba and Miles are standing
close by
,
but they don’t step in
.
I think Travis is speaking for everyone
.
The locker room is quiet as the rest of the guys turn to listen
.

“He has a point, Gray,” Todd s
ays
.
“It’s not just you
.
It’s the whole team you’re
messing
with.”

My eyes narrow
at the attack I’m getting in all directions
.
“
Thanks for this thoughtful intervention
guys
,
”
I say
.
“
Are you going to give me
a workbook
I can fill out to help
me
find myself?
”

Travis slams my back against the locker again
.

“This is my
life
,
” Travis says
.
“
This team is my shot at the pros
,
a
nd I’ll
drop
you before I let you
screw
up our season.”

“
Alright, back off
,
”
Bubba says
,
and he pulls Travis
away from
me
.
Bubba has
four
older brothers and
claims to have
a lifetime
of
experience breaking up fights
.
He’s thicker than both of us and has
tribal tattoos that curl around each of
his biceps, which he can pull off because he’s actually from a tribe
.

Travis
lets go of his grip on my shirt and
stares me down
.
He grabs his duffel bag but b
efore he walks out the door he
stops and turns to
face
me
.
There’s still a death threat
on his face
.

“And as for your sister—
”

My hands clench into fists
.
Now he’s pushing it.

“
Get over it
.
Move on
,
Gray
.
You’re pathetic
.”

Before my heart takes another beat m
y hands are on him
and w
ith the force I
use to push him
, we both fall hard to the ground
.
I
throw
a
fist
that
lands on his
jaw
and there’s a loud smack when bone meets bone
.
H
is
fist
flies
and
I take a blow to the side
of my face
.
T
he contact makes light explode behind my eyes
.
A dozen hands try to pry us apart
.
I
slam my knuckles into
stomach
,
and he takes another swing that hits my mouth
.
T
here’s a flash of heat from the
punch
and
I can taste blood
on my lips
.
S
omeone’s grabbing
my waist
and I
’m getting pulled off of him
.
Voices are s
houting
,
but
the sound barely penetrates through the
fire raging in my
head
.
Bubba has my arms pinned
back
and
I’m pushing to get free
.

“
You can say anything you want about
me
Travis, but the next time you
insult
Amanda
,
I’m taking you out,” I
yell
.
The hate pouring from my eyes must be making me blind because I don’t see Coach until he starts yelling
.

“That’s enough,” Coach barks
at
us
.
“
When the hell did my team turn into a bunch of middle school girls
?
Gray,
go home
.
Travis, I want you in my office.
Now.
”

Bubba
lets me
go
and Miles shoves me out of the locker room
.
He tells me to get in the car
like
he’s my dad and
I’m grounded
.
I slam the door shut and slump
down
into the
back
seat
, wiping
the blood
off my mouth
with my
T
-shirt
.
I wonder if my life can get any worse
.

DYLAN

Can my
night
get any worse
?
A
half hour
ago
, my luggage was stolen at the train station
.
I’
m soaking wet
and freezing cold
after running three blocks in
rain and sleet
.
Now,
I’m
stranded in the middle of Switzerland
,
and
it
’
s
past
midnight
.

“
L
ook
,
I have a reservation,” I
insist and
smack my receipt on the
counter
for proof
.
“
There is
no
way
you can be full
.” 

The manager
of the Alpine Hostel
in
Interlaken
stand
s
across the
bar from me
.
He looks
younger than I am
and
his
long
,
curly
blond
hair bounces
like springs
when he
shakes his head
. He says something in a British accent
.

“
What
?” I yell over the
s
houts and music inside the bar
, which doubles as a check in lobby for the hostel
.

“You’re supposed to call to confirm the room
, love
,” he says
.
“It’s our policy, since
y
ou didn’t put down a deposit.” He informs me that I was supposed to call twenty-four hours in advance to confirm the reservation. He points out the fine print on my receipt. I follow his finger along the words. Fine print, I decide, is bullshit.

“What are you saying
,
Mr. Alpine
?
You’re goin
g to throw me out on the street
?
”
He ignores my question to fill a pitcher of beer for a customer
,
because
that’s more
important than my current state
of homelessness
.