"Dad, slow down," Cole Carver sat in the passenger's seat of his father's crimson Lexus, as it screamed down the highway.

"Shuttup!" his father slurred, wiping tears out of his eyes. "I ain't sittin' in that living room just to watch that bitch pack her bags! You hear me?"

He nodded, even though he knew Mr. Carver saw none of it. It was all Cole could do, not to grab the steering wheel every time his drunken chauffeur approached a curve.

"Don't let him get in that car, Cole!" his mother had screamed. "You have to calm him down, Cole!"

Even with all of the bulking up Cole had done for the football team, he knew it was beyond his power to drag a full-grown man out of a car. Which only left calming him down. And he couldn't very well do that if his father left alone.

So there he was, attempting a heart-to-heart with the man who refused to even talk him through the birds and the bees.

But if I don't, we're both gonna die.

"She's not leaving, Dad," he assured his father. "Mom's right where we left her, if you turn around, you'll see,"

"No. I don't trust her," his father sobbed. "With me, or with you,"

"Dad-"

"No! If she won't take me, she can't have you either!"

"Dad!"

His father swerved the car into oncoming traffic.

Horns blared, and headlights enveloped Cole's vision.

But before the crash, Cole woke up, in a cold sweat, clutching his blankets to his chest.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

He laid back down on his bed. The sheets were damp, but that didn't matter. He didn't even notice.

All of Cole's attention was focused on lying to himself. That it was all just a dream.

That was no dream. Just a memory.

***

Cole knew the school like the back of his hand, he did. But still, he moved cautiously through the halls, touching the wall next to him as often as possible. Just to make sure that it was still there.

Pushing the sunglasses further up onto his nose, Cole made his way to the end of the hall, near the Coach's office.

Left turn here and I should be -

Crash!

He slammed into a solid, oak, door, at a speed-walking pace, and stood very still in front of it, trying to gather his wits.

Ignoring the snickers echoing around the hallway, Cole leaned as casually as possible, with his hand against the door.

What he hoped people would think is that he'd done it on purpose, for laughs. Or even that it was an accident, and he was simply trying to act casual. Almost anything would work. He just didn't want them to know that, in reality, he was tracing the letters of the door's nameplate with his fingers.

Coach Rodgers. He affirmed, silently. That's weird, Coach's door is never shut.

"Hey, Carver!" A voice came out of nowhere, causing Cole to jump out of his skin.

"Relax," Ethan laughed patting his shoulder. "It's just me,"

"Oh," Cole nodded vaguely and dug his phone out of his pocket so that he could pretend to look at it. At least then he'd have an excuse not to try and look at where Ethan was probably standing. "What's up?"

"I did the same thing a few minutes ago," Ethan's voice informed him, a slightly confused tone in his voice. "Ran right into the door,"

He sounded wary, almost like he could tell something was wrong.

"Any idea what's going on in there?" Cole wondered aloud, in an attempt to break his friend's concentration.

"Coach is talking to Ms. Hayman, can't you see through the glass?" The quarterback inquired. But distracted himself with a thought from earlier: "Oh, by the way, I meant to ask how you're doing. You know, after the whole car accident thing,"

"Yeah, I remember," Cole grumbled. How could he forget? The wreck had cost him his vision.

It was the scariest thing imaginable, to wake up one day, in a strange and loud place, completely and suddenly blind.

He didn't want anyone to know about that part though. He just wanted to get through high school without becoming a cautionary tale. And anything that made it that much easier for him to end up in a locker, had to stay under wraps.

"I'm alright. Back to normal," Cole lied, confidently.

"That's good to hear," Ethan patted his chest, once again causing the blind boy to jump. "Cause we have practice later and-"

"I actually... can't," Cole interrupted.

"Why not?"

Before Cole had the chance to think up an excuse, the Coach's door swung open, and Ms. Hayman marched out.

And even though Cole couldn't see her, he knew exactly the look she was wearing: When she stomped like that the English teacher always looked disgusted. And always right after having a conversation with the Coach, as well.

"You want to see him first?" Ethan asked, this time without physical contact.

Cole nodded and headed for the door, slamming straight into Ethan's chest.

"Dude, watch where you're going,"

If you had any idea...

"Carver!" Coach Rodgers announced from his desk. "Good to see you. Have a seat,"

"I'm just going to be a moment, sir," Cole sighed. "I'll stand," The last thing he wanted to be doing right now was groping around the room, aimlessly fishing in the darkness for a chair.

"Alright..." Coach hesitated. "How are you? I heard about... your father. I'm sorry for your loss,"

"I'll be fine," Cole told him. "But my mother is pulling me from the football team. She doesn't want me to get hurt. Especially now,"

That was the truth. Not the whole truth. But still some of it.

"I see..." Coach Rodgers's voice traveled from near the window. "And what do you think, son?"

Cole took a deep breath. "I think that, given my current state... I'm not going to be much of an asset to this team anymore," He continued to stare straight ahead, hoping the coach would take it as a sign of respect.

"I see..."

There was a long silence, and Cole shifted uncomfortably. No sounds. He had no idea what the hell was happening around him. Coach could be waving in front of his face right now and he wouldn't be reacting at all.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Coach,"

"You're dismissed," Coach Rodgers announced, with a sound of what might have been him waving Cole away.

Cole nodded and turned to go.

"Oh, and Carver?"

"Yes, Coach?"

"There's going to be a pop quiz in English class today. Hayman just came to tell me that she thought some of my students weren't 'living up to their fullest potential'. Not that you were one of them, just a heads up. It's some written exam I think," Coach Rodgers warned him, helpfully. "Might want to study up,"

"Oh. Thanks, Coach," he nodded and waited just outside the door until he felt Ethan pass. He'd definitely be suspicious if Cole trucked into him a second time.

A written exam? How am I supposed to write without being able to see?

I really didn't think this shit through...