Chapter 1 #2
We’ve gotten mostly used to one another.
It’ll happen when we all come back from practice, rushing to our fridge and the Powerades we keep stocked on the second self, or when we try to cook dinners together without catching the entire building on fire before letting Nguyen take charge as official head chef, or when we see each other naked way more than necessary.
The evolution from strangers to, at the very least, cordial and familiar was bound to happen.
Right now, though? Getting one another out of bed way too early and being pendejos in the water as part of some squad tradition and, also again, seeing each other naked way more than necessary? We dove in as boys, and we come up as brothers.
Which is why when P é rez yells out, “I love you guys,” I can’t help but say it back.
And when, after Ahmed tells us he loves us, we all hassle Nguyen to say it back too— “Like you mean it!” —I have a huge smile on my face, knowing that I’ve got friends again.
That I’m not alone. And I have a confidence that I honestly needed going into today and the start of my first semester of college.
“Good job, Pi n a,” Barrera tells me as he throws a towel my way once we’re back on the beach and rinsed off. “That’s the way to start off the day of our first home game. Counting on you for another shutout, yeah?”
“Claro, jefe,” I say back while wiping myself down.
We’ve had two away games in the past couple weeks, and I’ve been solid so far, starting off our season strong.
Even though I was so nervous for my first college game that I threw up in a trash can outside the locker room while everyone else was hustling to the pitch.
I went in with a lot of words fresh in my mind about what the team’s thoughts were with me being the starting keeper, Barrera included.
He’d been on my ass constantly since our first practice, all “You going to prove me right, Pi n a? You going to keep letting the ball get past you like that? You going to make Coach regret putting you here and giving you this spot?” But it’s only driven me harder to show them exactly why I’m here.
So, after that puke, I jogged out there ready to give it my all, and I’ve been playing better than I ever have.
Every goal attempt so far, from both teams we’ve faced, has been stopped.
That is, the few that have happened. If anyone’s quick-footed enough to make it through our defense that’s also playing better than ever, there’s no way they’re getting past me.
This team had been overlooked for years before I showed up, and we’re all ready to show everyone it’s our time.
“We’re getting our third W today. I know it.”
Barrera gives me an all-lip smile and hands me the plastic bag with my clothes.
“Don’t let this get to your head, but you might be the best keeper TAMUCC’s ever had.
And don’t make me regret saying that either, alright?
” He starts walking away from me, his hand coming to the back of my shoulder for a couple slaps before squeezing.
“Keep it up. Ponte las pilas. Oh, and if you’re not going to put your clothes on, at least wrap that towel around your waist, yeah? It’s starting to get weird.”
“What time do we got to be at the field?” P é rez yells, holding his towel in front of him, also not caring much about anyone who’s walking behind him and has to see his ass.
“Eleven,” some teammate in the mix of all of us yells back.
“’Ueno. So, when we get back to the house, you boys want to circle up and—”
“Shut up, P é rez , ” Nguyen, Ahmed, and I all groan together.
“Take a nap! I was going to say take a nap. It’s enough time for an REM cycle, I think. And if any of y’all want to cuddle, I’m cool with bed buddies. Not putting my clothes back on, though.”
“No one wants that,” Ahmed says, trying his best to keep his eyes open while Nguyen tells him, “You’re at least wrapping that towel around yourself! There’s no way your bare ass is sitting on my seats.”
“Suit yourself. Oh, but if y’all are down for a pit stop, I wouldn’t say no to a quick drive by Whataburger, if anybody’s—”
“ P é rez , I’m being so serious right now when I tell you to stop talking . And get in the car.”
P é rez puts on some Bad Bunny when Nguyen, as a sign of brotherhood, I guess, hands him the aux.
In the back, Ahmed lasts seconds before his head is on my bare shoulder and he’s snoring.
I put an arm around him to stay comfortable and keep it from falling asleep, and this boy unconsciously snuggles into me more.
Our passenger princess doesn’t last much longer, getting a brief second wind, pumping his arm as he sings along to “Est á Cabr ó n Ser Yo” one minute, and falling asleep the next, before the song’s even over, drool trailing down his chin.
I try to stay up and keep Nguyen company, even though he’s the quietest one of the group and my eyelids are tempting me with the promise of a few z’s.
I can make it until we’re back home. Easy.
I don’t. I get as far as “That was something, huh?” and a “Wait, who lost that race?” Nguyen offering a quiet laugh back with a “Yeah” and “I think Ahmed.” I’m not sure when it happens, but I don’t even remember getting off the island.
Next thing I know, I’m waking up as Nguyen is parking, the lights from the parking lot almost too bright as I open my eyes.
“I love you guys,” P é rez says again through a yawn before we all head off to our rooms. “The Fantastic Four por vida.” He holds up his Powerade, like he’s trying to make a toast. “Here’s to year one, boys. ?A huevo! ”
“Shut up, P é rez.”
Here’s to year one.