Higher, Faster, Stronger

The night of our first game was a Thursday. And that Thursday night I didn't sleep at all. My body was exhausted from all the adrenaline and the hits I'd taken but my mind didn't want to go to sleep. I ran though our conversation a thousand times in my head but still, his words were unbelievable.

He accused me basically of not being a team player. Did he mean that I wasn't subordinate to him?

What did he want me to do, bulk up on testosterone and grow a unibrow like the rest of them?

It was maddening. What did he mean? Was he insane?

Get closer to the boys? Play nicer? Be nicer? Heh, I will if he does.

But he wasn't saying it as a fellow subordinate on the team; he was saying it as a captain. He was my superior, technically. The only one who outranked him was the coach.

Even if I was special, I was powerless and that was a horrible circulating thought.

Would he convince coach to kick me off the team? That would give those who opposed my joining all the ammunition they ever needed. No, after all the effort, surely not?

I was ready to pull my hair out, frankly.

Then, at about 1, came a thought: maybe he wanted me to blend in more? That seemed to be the most logical out of all the scenarios. It would make sense. I never made that much of the fact that I made the team but I was still treated differently by the boys. More tenderly, maybe. Cause even though they knew I was tough, I was still a girl…

Of course…How could I have been so blind? He was assuming the boys treated me like a teddy bear, or a creature to be baby sat.

It was the whole girl issue again. I thought I had gotten past this earlier on in the year.

It wasn't really Coach. He had his softer moment but he was being monitored by the school for any signs of partial treatment. He couldn't do anything if he wanted to. But Coach was a fair guy; he put me sometimes through more work just so I could improve.

After this game were 12 more, a total of 13 games if we made it to the Championships. Depending on performance, we'd play the top seeded team and hopefully win. After that was a team banquet and that was it for the season.

I rolled over and looked for the clock. 2:45.

Oh.

NUTS!
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Friday turned unseasonably cold with a bitterly cold wind blowing the warmth from our blood. Even with our copious drills and plays, it was hard to get warm when you're losing all feeling in your fingers. Do you know that pins and needles, hard-to-stretch feeling? Try getting that all over your body.

Coach assigned us partners for tackling drills. Mine of course was Glacier Boy. Coach seemed to like pairing us together. Why, I couldn't tell you. His speed and my determination? His constant constipation and my rage? Mysteries, mysteries…

Tackling drills aren't really fun because not matter what, you're getting rammed into by someone running top speed toward you. But each time it got harder to lay a hand on him. His speed was amazing and I was pissed off enough as it was. The final time before I switched to running the ball, I finally read his pattern and knocked him a good two feet back. And of course, I landed directly on top of him.

However, this is the only sport that that can't be construed as sexual innuendo. Still, I couldn't really help but admire the scenery.

"Hall…" after a second, "You're heavy. Get. Off." He grunted.

"It's not my fault your bony hip collided with my stomach." I answered.

"You tackled me, therefore, it is."

"Fine….Captain." He tossed me his patented death glare as I tossed him the ball back. Fine, so I was baiting him, but I'm so not heavy! That glare could melt icebergs. I think I just found the reason for global warming.

In other parts of the field, Kael was getting his clock cleaned by Cameron, Neil was pummeling Nate and Steve was cloud watching.

I took off my helmet and redid my hair. I missed the warmth of my helmet; it was chilly even for the start of November. Even though I was wearing a pair of football gloves, my fingers were frozen. Ok, scratch that. My entire body was freezing. I guess coach must have noticed from our performance.

As the wind started to pick up, Coach told us to head inside to the gym to finish practice.

We still had more drills to go but the warm rush of air felt good.

We were exhausted and cold. He excused us. It was Friday anyway. Laziness and cold…?

Not a good combination. As I pulled a sweatshirt on to ward off the cold, I took a look inside my duffel.

I found Nate's spare water bottle. Odd, I thought I gave it back to him.

I headed home. But he never called at the allotted time which was even odder. He and I always called between 6 and 7 no matter what. He was prone to setting his alarm clock to it he said. His house was only a couple blocks away so I figured, drop it off, have a little one on one and go home.

The lights were on but he didn't answer the doorbell. Even weirder. He once made point of telling me that if the lights were on, someone was home.

I opened the door and called in, "Nate?"

I closed it and looked around. It seemed fairly neat for someone so messy.

"Nate?" I kept calling. It was weird, I thought I heard…wheezing?

I turned a corner and saw a light on at the end of the hallway.

"Nathan?" I was getting scared.

I looked inside and was horrified at what I saw.

Nate was sitting on the floor mid way through an anxiety attack. His eyes were wide and his breath was shallow. His arms were folded and his nails were digging into his arms. He was bleeding because of it. What was even odder was what he was muttering.

"Monster…demon…stay away….go away…demon….no…I'm not a monster…no…please!" Endless repetitions of the sort.

I tried to get him to calm down but every time he saw my face, he turned away and said, "Don't look at me," and pulled away. He was surrounded in blankets but I saw his cell nearby.

I hurriedly checked the contacts. Someone named Ian was first, followed by Derek and then me. Calling a person randomly that you didn't know wouldn't exactly be wise. Oh nuts. I had to swallow my pride on this one.

I pressed send under Derek's cell number. Second ring he picked up.

"What do you want, idiot?"

"It's Sarah Hall."

"Why do you have his phone?"

"Shut up for a second! He needs your help! He's having a panic attack and keeps muttering monster and demon. Do you know what's going on?"

"I'll be right over there. Keep him steady." I heard a click and knew he was coming. All I had to do was make sure he didn't pass out and die.

Oh crap.

I put my arms on his shoulders as he doubled over, wheezing and crying.

"Nathan, calm down! It's me! It's Sarah. You're going to be ok."

"No…Don't look at the monster…no…"

"You're not a monster, Nate…" I put my arms around him in a desperate attempt to pacify him but he just started rocking back and forth.

Minutes passed and I heard a bang of the front door opening.

"Derek! Over here!"

He came in trailing a short cold blast of air.

He put a small bag down that he was carrying and took out a syringe.

I caught his arm.

"What are you doing?!"

"Do you want to help him or not? Its prescribed medication."

After giving him the shot quickly in the shoulder, Nate's eyes began to droop fast and he fell over.

I went to check him but Thompson waved me away.

"Don't bother. He's passed out and he's going to sleep it off."

"Care to tell me what just happened?"

"First let's put him to bed. I'll tell you what's necessary in the kitchen."

Glacier Boy lifted his body into bed and playing the mother role, I covered him up.

Once seated at the table he addressed me with a small frown.

"Keep your questions short."

"Who's Ian?"

"His guardian. He checks in every few days. Nathan's parents are dead."

"What was all that talk about a monster or a demon?"

He sighed as if disclosing a secret. Maybe he was.

"After his parent's death, Nathan became an outsider. Kids teased him and the nicknames of demon and monster stuck. Every time he tried to make friends, they'd run away, calling him monster. It gave him an anxiety issue. That attack is what happens when he forgets to take his daily medication."

"How long has he been living with this?"

"Close to 6 years now. For emergencies, I keep some of his medicine and a spare house key."

I looked down at the table. Poor Nate. He always got the brunt of a lot of jokes but I always thought he'd be ok with it.

"When is he going to wake up?"

"Don't know," he shrugged. "I'm staying here until he wakes up. Can't risk something else happening."

"Could I come early then, tomorrow?"

"Whatever."

Back to normal I see. I went in his room one more time. He looked so peaceful that it was hard expecting something like that.

When I walked out, Glacier Boy had the TV on, I sort of waved bye. I know he saw but he chose to do nothing. I expected that. I didn't expect us to be instant friends bonded by trauma.

I headed out the door and went home. But I'd be back.