Page 44 of For the Fans

The whole thing seemed much less about my uncle and more about making sure we understood the black and white of it. The good versus the evil. Anything that didn’t serve to please God would bring punishment, unless you confessed it. And I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that type of judgement.

I became terrified of making a mistake. Of accidentally slipping up, doing something wrong andsinningin the eyes of the Father.

That fear is what led me through years of blind compliance. Attempting to overcome it was the first actual mistake I made.

Sitting on a wooden bench in the locker room reminds me of sitting on those hard, purposefully uncomfortable pews inside the Cathedral of the Holy Cross. When I open my hands, I see the lines of my palms covered by the rosary my father handed to me that day…

“Plead for salvation, Kyran… Loud enough that He can hear you.”

Closing my eyes, I squeeze them shut, clenching my hands into even tighter fists. I grip so hard my fingertips dig into my palms… And then I release them.

Releasing my fists slowly, Irememberit slipping away…

“Hey…” A voice startles me, and my eyes shoot open, face springing in the direction of the doorway.

It’s Avi, wandering slowly into the locker room, still half-dressed in his mascot costume with only his head exposed. Even rolling my eyes at his presence feels exhausting right now.

He takes a seat next to me on the bench, and I just shake my head. “What do you want?”

He’s quiet for a moment, and I can feel his gaze on the side of my face, but I’m not in the mood to look.

“I just figured I’d check on you…” he says.

I let out a tired breath. “Leave me alone, Avi.”

“It’s just one game, man,” he mumbles. “Five-and-one is still a great record.”

“You don’t know shit about shit,” I grunt, raking my fingers through my hair.

I really don’t want to hear it right now. Fromanyone, but especially not from him. He doesn’t understand how important football is to me, becausenothingis important to him. He doesn’t care hard enough about anything to be devastated over a loss like this.

Tonight was the first game I played since finding out about my dad’s business going under. And I just couldn’t get it out of my head…

For two weeks, I’ve been stressing the fuck out over being suddenly broke. And I know, it makes me sound like such a whiny, privileged brat, but I can’t help the way I was raised. We’ve nevernothad money. It’s like going from a massive head-start in the race to being dropped smack-dab in the middle with everyone else.

The insecurities I try so desperately to swallow down on a regular basis were all suddenly climbing up my throat faster than projectile vomit.

Maybe I’m not special… Maybe I’m not good enough to lead this team to the playoffs and get us a championship. Maybe everything I’ve ever had was given to me out of circumstance. Being a rich white kid was the cushy insulation, and after losing therichpart, I’m just another boring white boy in Boston, struggling to show the world an image that doesn’t even exist.

Having an existential crisis is never convenient, but having one in the middle of an important game against Georgia Tech was like the perfect storm for a disastrous failure. No matter how loudly Coach screamed at me, or how many looks Guty and the rest of the team gave me on the field, I just couldn’t push past it…

The idea that I’m nothing but a fuck-up who’s been posing as an all-star this whole time.

GT kicked our asses twenty-one to three, and even though no one said it outright, I justknowthey’re all pissed at me. Our defense held out strong. Really, everyone played great.

Everyone but me.

“I know that the Yellow Jackets are a great team,” Avi goes on, and my teeth grind together. “I know there were a few bullshit calls, and I know you guys did your absolute best. It’soneloss at the beginning of a stellar season, Ky. Stop wallowing in it. That’s not your style.”

Tilting my face in his direction, I narrow my gaze. “What’s with the pep-talk? We’re notfriends…”

“Yea, no shit,” he sighs. “I just figured you could use it. This whole no money thing definitely just smacked us both upside the head.”

I sit in silence for a second, contemplating if I even want to keep talking to him about anything. But again, I’m too tired to fight.

“There’s just so much riding on this now,” I mutter. “The scholarship relies on mewinning, and I was denied financial aid for housing because of the assets my dad still has in his name. And to top it all off, the backwards-ass rules state that if I’m not living on campus, I don’t qualify for the scholarship at all. It’s completely ridiculous.”

Avi lets out a breath. “That is pretty fucking asinine…”