Football Season

The holiday comes to an end all too soon, and we head back to school. On the very first day, you can feel the excitement in the air. I just want to roll my eyes at everyone—I don’t really get the appeal of football.

I walk toward my locker and soon spot Ceci bouncing in, as though she has springs under her feet. That girl’s hyper energy is something that needs to be studied because nobody should be that full of energy all the time.

“Hey, twinee,” she greets me when she finally stops in front of me.

“Hey. What’s got you so hyped up?” I ask.

“It’s football season, baby. The only time we’re allowed to ogle those meatheads without reservation.” She wiggles her eyebrows, and I just laugh, shaking my head. Ceci has a weird obsession with looking at ripped men, and while I get the appeal, hers is on another level.

“Let’s go to class,” I say, slamming my locker shut and grabbing her hand.

“You’re the only person I know who isn’t excited about football season,” she says, shaking her head.

“Well, maybe it’s because I don’t see the appeal of grown humans fighting over a tiny ball,” I reply.

“Oh, how dare you, Gavin Montez!” she gasps, pretending to be offended. I laugh at her antics. She’s known my opinion on these games since day one, yet she still tries to rope me into liking them. I almost admire her dedication.

We make our way down the hallway and soon reach our classroom.

Not long after we sit down, Mrs. Agatha walks in. The fact that she still looks exactly the same as last semester doesn’t surprise me. She seems to prefer ill-fitting suits and oversized glasses that dwarf her small face. Combined with her permanently severe expression—as though the entire world has wronged her—I wouldn’t be surprised if someone said she had chronic constipation.

She starts handing out test papers. To say I’m surprised would be an understatement, and judging by the groans around the classroom, I’m not the only one.

For goodness’ sake, it’s our first day back.

“Answer the paper seriously,” she says, banging her ruler on the desk when the noise becomes too much. “I will use it to assess whether you spent your holidays playing or actually reading.”

“Mr. Montague, your performance will determine whether you can play for the team. Academics are a high priority for our athletes.” She pauses. “The same goes for you, Mr. Wheeler.”

I glance at Ryan and his crew and almost laugh at how pale they look. Since our little disagreement at their party, we’ve had an unspoken agreement to avoid each other.

We finish the test quickly and submit it, but the rest of the day feels tense. Everyone is on edge, expecting another surprise test. When the final bell rings, it sounds like the sweetest melody I’ve ever heard, and for once, I’m the first to rush out of class.

“Twinee, wait for me!” Ceci calls, running after me.

“Hurry up,” I say, turning back.

“Can you believe that woman?” she bursts out, and I laugh. I’ve been waiting for this reaction all day. “How dare she do that to us? We weren’t even prepared!”

“Well, that’s kind of the point of a test, love—to catch us off guard,” I tell her.

We soon reach the school gate and go our separate ways. Ceci lives on the northern side of Saber Hills, in the Rose Garden Villas, while I live in the Dream Villas to the south.

I spot Dad waiting by the gate, and I’m relieved—I don’t feel like walking home.

“Hey, Dad,” I say, getting into the car.

“Hey, baby. How was your day?” he asks, starting the engine.

“Horrible. We had a surprise test, and let’s just say I’m not expecting much,” I reply.

He laughs loudly, like it’s the funniest thing ever. I just let him be.

When we get home, I head straight to my room. Later, we have dinner, and I try to get some sleep.

The next day, I arrive at school and find most of my classmates crowded around the notice board. I spot Ceci and pull her out of the crowd.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“They posted yesterday’s test results,” she says, and I blink in surprise. That’s not exactly normal.

“How did I do?” I ask.

“You got a B. That’s better than me,” she admits.

I stay quiet. That’s… not great.

We head back to class, where everything seems calm—too calm, except for a few noisemakers at the back.

I should’ve known it was the calm before the storm, because what Mrs. Agatha tells me after class shocks me so much I can’t make sense of it.