NEW LIVINGSTON DAY SCHOOL STAR QUARTERBACK SET TO RETURN FROM DISLOCATED SHOULDER INJURY

While the New Livingston Day School Lions are still undefeated on the season, the return of star quarterback Dallas Gunther is what could undoubtedly propel the Lions into playoff contention for the third year in a row. Gunther is coming off of an injury to his non-throwing shoulder, which he sustained after an illegal hit late in the season opening home game against Brighton Prep. Coach John Knox came under fire for keeping Gunther in the game after tallying up a sizable lead, but he's reassured the team that Gunther will be 100% by Friday's homecoming game against Delbarton.

Sophomore backup quarterback Lando Harrison has proven to be a worthy replacement for Gunther, completing 65% of his passes over the last three games and tossing eight touchdown passes.

"It's total bullshit, if you ask me," Chris huffed and took a swig of his Gatorade. "Like you haven't been everything to this school's football program for years. You make one mistake and everyone's ready to toss you aside like bad movie theater nachos."

It was unusual for him to have hard opinions, but I knew he was just trying to be a decent friend. A cool breeze threaded its way between us, and I struggled to readjust my varsity jacket over my still-injured shoulder.

"It's fine," I waved him off, and I could hear the exhaustion in my voice. "The quicker I get this god damn sling off, the quicker we can all just move on and pretend none of this shit ever happened."

Chris sighed and looked across the courtyard. I followed his gaze over to a table under a big oak tree dotted with dying leaves, zeroing in on Lando Harrison and his wild, curly head of hair. A swarm of junior cheerleaders surrounded him and another sophomore on the football team.

"He's really eating this up," Chris grumbled.

"Let him," I shrugged. "It's better that he gets used to it now, anyway."

Chris scoffed and gestured towards Lando's little crowd with his hand, still gripping his half-eaten burrito. "That's your replacement you're talking about."

I threw Chris an eye roll. "How well do you know me, Christopher?"

"Oh here we go with the Christopher shit..."

I held my hand up to stop him. "Exactly. Which means unless I've been replaced by a time-traveling alien, you're fully aware that I am in no way, shape, or form threatened by a baby like Lando Harrison. My sling comes off today, genius."

At least, I was supposed to, but I was slowly learning that even if I had a crystal ball, I couldn't control my fate. A butterfly flaps its wings in the congo, and it separates my god damn shoulder. That was enough of a storm to me.

As if he could hear us talking about him, Lando poked his head above the little crowd that had gathered around him, offering us a smile and a wave.

"Besides, it's kind of hard to dislike him," I shrugged casually. "He's a good kid, he means well."

"You're so annoying," Chris grumbled and took a massive bite of his burrito. "Why can't you just be like a normal high school quarterback? Go bully some freshmen and cheat on a history exam. Your innate desire to be a likeable person is setting wildly unrealistic expectations for the rest of us."

It was wildly unrealistic expectations for anyone, but I didn't have a choice. Bend, but never break.

I barked out a dry laugh. "Right yeah, let me just squeeze shoving freshmen into lockers into my schedule, probably somewhere between AP Lit, practice, and tutoring sophomores for Calculus. I think I could make it work."

Chris laughed, and a silence settled between us as fallen leaves danced across the stone patio of the courtyard in another cool breeze.

"Fuck, I'm really gonna miss you," he said so softly, his words were almost carried away in the breeze.

"Hey, we'll see each other once a year," I forced a smile and put my hand on his shoulder. "In the national championship game, of course."

That got Chris to laugh. "God, Alabama and Clemson in the natty every year is like Lebron's Cavs and the Golden State Warriors, but somehow worse."

"It'll be a lot better once we're there," I nodded, and maybe there was part of me that was only trying to tell myself that I'd actually be at Clemson. The residual bitterness of Chris actually committing to Alabama tried to seep its way into my voice, but I wouldn't let it. "At the very least, we'd make it more entertaining."

Chris and I gathered all our junk from our Taco Bell lunch run, and as much as I knew he was only trying to help, I hated watching him carry my backpack and open doors for me. I could handle being a lot of things, but helpless wasn't one of them. He accompanied me to my locker and helped me switch my books out for the afternoon too, and all I could think of was how close I was to tasting freedom - or at least, life with two functioning arms.

"Oh yikes," he grimaced and pointed at my neck as I bent over to fumble with my backpack.

"What?" I played dumb, but a tiny jolt of panic shot through me.

"Jordyn's handiwork, I'm assuming."

I flipped the front camera on my phone on, and sure enough, a little supernova of black and blue and red dotted the edges of my neck down to my collarbone.

"Fuck," I groaned. "Rochelle put concealer on it this morning, but I guess it all came off."

Chris shook his head at me as I slammed my locker shut. "I will admit a weird level of respect for you being able to do...whatever it is that you two do, with your bad shoulder."

I couldn't help but smirk. "We make it work."

"The hooking up thing or the sneaking around thing?" I felt Chris side eye me, and I readjusted my backpack on my one non-lame shoulder.

"I do not sneak," I insisted, though I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince more - me or Chris. "You know. Rochelle knows. Half the football team knows. As far as I'm concerned, as long as Patrick and Meredith Gunther don't know, it's fine. And you know why."

Chris shrugged. "Whatever you say, man."

We reached a split in the hallway and Chris put his hand down on my good shoulder. "Alright well, I gotta go fail my Spanish exam."

"Should have taken French with me," I shrugged. "Au revoir." 

Chris disappeared down the hallway to the right, and as the squeaking of his shoes on the linoleum faded, I realized I was totally alone. I caught sight of the English Lit sign up sheet for tutoring outside of Dr. Fontanella's classroom, and there were already eight students who wrote their name under mine. I let out a deep sigh, then swallowed down something awful that knotted itself in my throat. Something that would crack me open if I let it.

I threw myself against the doors at the end of the hallway and walked out into the arms of a chilly afternoon. Most of the seniors' cars had filed back into the parking lot after lunch, but a few kids lingered. I slipped on my Ray Bans and hoped nobody had the balls to come and talk to me. My mother wasn't picking me up for another 20 minutes, but I needed air. I waited at the top of the stone steps to the parking lot for her and her Porsche Macan, trying to slow my breathing.

My reprieve was short lived as Jordyn came walking up through the parking lot, and her long blonde hair looked like it had been threaded with gold in the afternoon sun.

"Hey you," she gave me a smile as she stopped a step below me, looking up at me through big, bug-eyed Gucci sunglasses. She nodded at my sling. "Today's the big day, huh?"

"Yeah," I nodded, forcing a smile. "And soon all will be right with the world again."

Jordyn let out a dainty giggle, like little glass bells. "Oh! That reminds me." She dug through her designer backpack and produced a small folder.

I took the folder from her and opened it to find a small card on thick paper. Watercolor pinks and reds dotted the edges, and in the center, a big, intricately sketched C - for Cornell. Like something my mom would order from Etsy when she wanted to give someone a handmade gift.

"I painted it for you," Jordyn beamed. "As sort of a good luck token. Or like you said, all is right with the world."

I raised an eyebrow at her, and in my daze I sputtered out the only thing I could think of. "You paint?"

"Well, yeah." She giggled again, but this one felt forced. As if my dumb ass should have known she painted, but she didn't want to be mean about it.

"Wow," I breathed out. "Well, um...it's really good. Thanks. I'll keep it in my locker."

"You are a true marvel, Dallas Gunther." Jordyn reached down and gave my hand hanging out of the sling a squeeze.

"A true marvel? That's a new one," I chuckled. "Can you write that for me on my college applications?"

She reached up and gently trailed her fingers down my cheek, and suddenly I felt the heat of the afternoon sun bearing down on me.

"Sorry," she quickly pulled her hand away. "Um...before I forget, I decided to go with the green dress for Friday, so I'm not sure if you're wearing a tie, but it's more of like a dark green-"

"Wait, what?"

"I mean, we don't have to match, but I think it would be really cute-"

"Jordyn, what are you talking about?"

She eyed me with confusion. "The homecoming dance? It's Friday."

"But I haven't asked you," I blurted out, and I was hit with an instant wave of regret as a look of hurt flashed across Jordyn's face.

She quickly deflected with another giggle and rested her hand on my arm. "Come on, it's not like you were going to ask anyone else."

I sighed. "No, you're right...I wasn't. Because I wasn't planning on going."

She looked downright horrified, as if I had just shredded up her platinum AmEx. She slid her sunglasses up on top of her head and sighed. "Why not?"

"Okay listen," I worked my jaw. "I've had a lot going on, and going to that ridiculous dance immediately after my first game back isn't exactly a priority of mine-"

"But we're going to be homecoming king and queen."

My whole world came to a screeching half, and In that moment, I knew what a fucking idiot I was. That all the hookups in the library alcove and the backseat of my car created something tangible for her to hold on to. I'd given her a shiny gold thread and strung her along on it, leading her right to the throne beside me.

When I looked down into her eyes, I knew none of it came from a malicious place. I only wish it did. It would have made my life, and everything concerning Jordyn Wagner, a lot easier.

Bend, but never, ever break. That includes other people.

"Okay, okay," I sighed out. "But If it's alright with you, I'm just gonna wear my black suit. Green's not really my color."

"Oh that's fine," she perked up. "I just figured I'd let you know."

Never in my life did I think I'd be happier to see my mom than in that moment, when her car rolled up to the curb.

"I have to go," I said and brushed by her as I trudged down the steps. "Wish me luck."

I almost laughed. Luck couldn't help me now.

When I dropped into the passenger seat of my mom's car, I rolled the window down to keep myself from actually puking up my lunch.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine. Let's just go." I shifted in my seat. "Oh, by the way...we need to get my black suit dry-cleaned."

can you just wish me luck?
i'm always getting stuck
inside of my mind
i'll be fine

wish me luck / wallows

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yes, i did in fact name dallas's backup lando...thx for enabling as always w1ldflow3r. da baby is always in da way #ifykyk

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