We’d probably be here a lot actually, at least during the off season.
Going through all this shit, well, it was probably necessary. If the guys hadn’t actually gotten an adjustment period, then it was better they had it now instead of everything falling apart once the season actually started.
Everything needed to be hashed out, but still, I didn’t like that we didn’t get started right this year. Felt like we were behind now, which meant a lot of working out, running, and catching up.
“We have to work together,” I said. “I’m captain.” I hesitated, then added, “You voted for me.”
He made a noise of protest but said, “Don’t make a big thing out of it.”
“Hey, you really did.” I hadn’t even been trying to trick him, but I got him to admit it anyway. I really am a genius.
“Congrats,” he said dryly. “You outsmarted me.” He wasn’t as impressed with me as I was. With me. Must be how Zach feels all the time.
“You’re here talking to me now when you don’t have to be,” I pointed out. Maybe he wanted to get along, he just didn’t know how after all his complaints.
He waved a hand. “You’re actually better than history class.”
“Of course I am.” Almost insulted he had to spell it out. “That’s not really a thing that needs to be said. It should just be understood.” I wrinkled my nose or maybe my whole face. “Wow, I sound like Zach.” Man, channeling a lot of Zach realness over here. Too much for comfort.
I could swear he almost smiled at how much I hated being like my best friend, so I tried to build on that momentum. “Man, one thing we do have in common? We’re both seniors. This year is our shot. I don’t want to blow it, do you?”
He gave me a serious look, like he was sizing me up or something. I met his gaze back, and it seemed like we had an understanding for the moment. Felt like we could put this all behind us. And then he said, “Would think you liked blowing.”
Guess that’s a no on the whole getting along thing.
Sam winced. “That actually sounded meaner than I meant it.”
“You didn’t mean it mean?” Sure fooled me.
He smiled tightly but met my eyes. “Trying to make a joke?” He sighed when it sounded like a question. “Look, I’m not 100% cool, and I’m sure I made that obvious already, but you’re right about two things. I did vote for you and I do want to win just as bad, so, I don’t know.”
He thought for a moment. “We can start a swear jar,” he suggested. “Anytime I accidentally call anyone or anything a fag, I’ll donate a dollar.”
“You think that will help?” My problem wasn’t even with any derogatory words directed my way. Just—
“I’m thinking of the amazing victory party we could have at the end of the year,” he pointed out.
Huh.
That was a really good point. Lots of the guys, even me sometimes, said a bunch of dumb shit we probably shouldn’t. Apparently, there was a way to profit off this. Felt kinda weird complimenting him at the moment, even in my head, but maybe he was a genius too.
“Okay,” he said. “No hard feelings.” We shook hands.
Now that we were gonna try to get along, I guess Sam decided I really was better than history class because he stopped trying to leave. I should really make him go to class… next time. Us getting along was more important.
Ted and Greg came into the weight room, not really hiding that they’d been listening at the door. “Maybe we should all play this swear jar game,” Ted said. “Or, uh, offensive word jar game?”
“No thanks,” the other guy contradicted immediately.
Sam gave him a serious look. “Victory party, Greg. Victory. Party.”
Greg sighed. “Okay, so you’re a bunch of queers?” He gestured to all of us, not only me while Joey and Kevin entered the room.
“And now I owe a dollar,” Greg continued. “Which means I can request a bottle of pineapple vodka and I don’t care if you all hate it.” He jeered at all of us for making faces about his enjoyment of flavored vodka. “Double queers!”
“I see your queer,” Joey said regally, jumping right in. “And I raise you a retard.”
“You sir,” Ted said right back. “Are a faggot.”
