Box Out (10 page)

Liam gets in the car and drives. He doesn't know where he's going. He just drives. For the first time in years, he doesn't have practice or a game on a Thursday in February. For the first time in years, he's not on a team. He can do whatever he wants. But what?

He drives west past the turnoff to his house. He winds down the hill to the Kakabikans River and hits the brakes. Three deer stand still in the middle of the road. The buck has a ten-point rack that would make a fine trophy during hunting season. All three are bony with matted fur. It's been a hard winter—sharp cold and deep snow. Tough for them to find food.

The doe and the yearling bound up the hill to the west, while the buck crashes through brush below. Liam pulls the car to the shoulder and turns off the engine. He watches the spot where the buck disappeared behind the trees but nothing stirs.

He's off the team. So why doesn't he feel better?
When he talked to Megan, he was excited. But that's all evaporated.

Mackenzie and basketball—the two most important things in his life—are both gone. He takes off his glove and examines the white blister of the burn. It looks like a half-closed eye. Or half-opened, depending on how you look at it.

The river makes icy curves among the bare trees. Liam gets out and crunches snow as he steps downhill into the ravine. He follows the twists and turns of the ice, looking for signs of the buck. He picks up a smooth black stone that's lying on a stump. How did that get here? Maybe it washed up in a spring flood. He cleans sand off the stone and puts it in his pocket.

A flash of brown to his left makes him turn. The buck looks out from behind a clump of bushes twenty yards away. Liam stares back and tries not to move. He holds the buck's gaze and concentrates on not blinking. As large as the buck is, his eyes make him look vulnerable.

A grain truck roars by on the bridge and the spell is broken. The buck turns his head and bounds up the hill. Liam
digs his boots into the snow to keep from slipping as he climbs back to the car.

He drives west past Dixon on the Old Fort Road and pulls into the empty parking lot of the wildlife management area. He zips his coat all the way up and ties his hood. It's windier out here than in the ravine. Mackenzie broke up with him four days before Valentine's Day. How romantic. At least now he doesn't have to buy her a stupid gift.

He trudges through knee-high snow to the frozen lake. Maybe quitting wasn't all that brave. Maybe part of it was fear. Maybe he was afraid of screwing up on varsity and this provided a way out.

He lies on his back and looks up at the gray sky. What's he going to do without basketball? What's he going to do without Mackenzie? He searches for a sign. Nothing. Just heavy clouds. He lies on snow that is on top of ice that is on top of water. Between the sky and the water, he is so small, so insignificant, so alone.

The ice groans as it shifts and his eyes moisten. He doesn't feel connected to anything. Tears roll down his face, and he
does nothing to stop them as he lies on his back on the frozen lake.

When Liam gets to his locker the next morning, Mr. Franzen, the art teacher, is waiting for him. He's tall and thin with a neatly trimmed goatee and rimless glasses.

“Good morning, Liam. I'm Jack. I coach the girls' basketball team. Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah.” Liam matches his firm grip.

“I heard what happened with Principal Craney. How are you doing?”

“All right.” Liam hangs his coat on its hook.

“I've got a proposal,” Jack says. “We've got two weeks before regionals and I need a couple of guys to practice with the team. One of them needs to be a strong post player to bang around underneath. Would you be willing to join us?”

“Sorry, Coach. I'm not interested.”

“No, no, not Coach.” He holds up his hand. “Call me Jack.”

“Okay.” He can't say Jack. It's hard to call a coach anything other than Coach.

“Some of our younger players don't realize how good our opponents are going to be. They need a new challenge in practice.”

“No thanks.” Liam grabs his English book and stuffs it in his backpack.

“Please consider it.” Jack holds out his palms. “I talked with Darius Buckner. He's joining us Monday. I'd love to have you there, too. You'd be a terrific addition.”

“No, sorry.”

Jack moves a step closer. “Principal Craney talked with all the coaches about the letter he received. I think what you did took courage. I think what you did was right.”

“Thanks,” Liam says softly. “I appreciate that.”

“Consider joining us, Liam. It would be an honor to have you be part of our team.”

Liam shakes his head. “Sorry. I'm not playing with girls.”

The night of the Sweethearts' Dance, Liam's shooting hoops at the Borton College Athletic Building because the Y is hosting a middle-school tournament. He can't stay away from the game. It's not about being on varsity. It's not about
being the best sophomore post player. It's the game. He's pulled to the game like a magnet to metal.

He hits a jumper from the baseline, chases the ball down, then shoots from the other side. Back and forth, setting his feet even though he's exhausted. When he can't run anymore, he sees how many free throws he can make in a row.

Six.

Seven.

Too short.

One.

Two.

Three.

He was never going to this dance anyway because Mackenzie's in France. That was one of the good things about going out with her. He didn't have to worry about who to ask out. Now he's back to nothing.

He lines a bank shot off the board. He doesn't want to play with girls. The game would be slower, softer, boring. There would be less bumping and shoving. It would be a weak imitation of what he's missing.

He hears a ball bouncing at the other end and turns to see Darius release a three. Nothing but net. Darius jogs to the ball, dribbles behind the arc, and launches another.
Swish.

Liam walks down. “Hey, what are you doing?”

“Shooting.” Darius looks at him like he's asked a stupid question. “What are you doing?” He launches another jumper.

“Same thing. The Y has a tournament.” Liam grabs the ball and passes to Darius, who makes another shot. “I heard you were going to practice with the girls' team.”

“Yeah.” Darius sets his feet and nails another three.

“Why?”

“Jack asked me and Leah's been begging me.” Darius pump-fakes and lofts a fadeaway. “Are you going to do it?”

“I don't know.” Liam rebounds the miss and dribbles along the baseline. He makes a fifteen footer and Darius passes him the ball. He steps back and makes another. Running with Darius might be fun. And pushing and holding with girls like Iris could be interesting. He shoots from deep in the corner and the ball hits the rim and bounces off. “I'm thinking about it.”

Walking down the hall on Valentine's Day, Liam's assaulted by heart decorations. Red and pink shapes plaster the gray lockers and scream “I'm not a loser like you.” Exactly what he needs—more reminders of his four-thousand-mile breakup.

“Quitter.”

“Jerk.”

“Atheist.”

He overhears bits and pieces of conversation. It feels like everybody's talking about him.

In the back of the art room, Mr. Franzen is by himself. “Good morning, Liam.” He tears off a chunk of clay.

“Morning.”

“Buc, buc, buccaw.” A giant chicken stumbles into the room. “Buc, buc, buccaw. Valentinegram.”

Liam recognizes one of the guys from theater through the chicken's beak. How did he find him here? Did Mackenzie schedule this before breaking up with him?

“Roses are red, violets divine. But only you are my valentine.” The chicken flaps his wings dramatically. “You are the grape to my wine. You are the eight to my nine. You will always be my valentine.”

Mackenzie always went for that corny stuff. The chicken does a little dance and ends with an awkwardly landed split. “With love from your valentine, your wifey, Mrs. Jack.”

“Bravo.” Jack claps as the chicken bows and shakes his feathered butt in the air. Liam looks at the paint-stained floor. It didn't have anything to do with him. Jack presses the clay and turns on the pottery wheel. “Sorry,” he says. “I need this for a demonstration piece. What can I do for you, Liam?”

“I've been thinking about your offer.”

“Yes.”

“What you asked about Friday.” Liam rocks back and forth.

“Yes.” Jack's hands move confidently even though he's not looking at them.

“I guess I'll do it.”

“Excellent.” Jack adds water with a sponge, and out of the muddy mess, a smooth edge emerges.

“There are three rules.” Jack holds his hands steady as the wheel spins. “Number one, respect yourself. Number two, respect your teammates.”

Those sound easy enough.

“Number three, no dating anybody on the team during the season. Can you handle that?”

“Yes, Coach. Sorry. I mean, yes, Jack.”

Jack stops the wheel and inspects a finished bowl. “Practice is at three-thirty today in the main gym.” He cuts the bowl from the clay and sets it on the board beside him. “You and Darius will dress in the gym locker room.”

“Principal Craney wants to see you again.” Mrs. Stabenow raises her eyebrows as she writes out a pass. “You're getting to be a regular.”

Liam trudges down the hall and stops at the art display case. Anything to delay talking to Craney. He spots the triangular tower and reads the card.

Liam gazes through the glass. What's it reacting to? Maybe Darius moving to Horizon. The face looks more fearful today. But maybe that's just him.

Liam resumes walking toward the office. Craney said he was going to interview people. Did he talk to Drake? Darius? Coach Kloss? Liam reaches into his pocket and squeezes the stone from the river he's been carrying around.

“Sit down, Bergstrom.” Craney points to a chair when Liam walks in. “Let's make this quick. I've got lots of people to talk to.”

Liam sits down in the leather chair as Craney opens a three-ring binder.

“Has Coach Kloss been leading Christian prayers in the locker room before boys' basketball games?” Craney leans over and squints at the paper.

“Yes.” Liam nods.

“Has Coach Kloss been leading these prayers at halftime?”

“Yes.”

“Does Coach Kloss encourage members of the basketball team to join in the prayers?”

“Yes.” Liam uncrosses his legs. These questions are unbelievably easy.

“Does he encourage team members to lead these prayers?”

“Yes.” Liam watches a cardinal peck at seed outside the window. Who put that feeder up? Craney doesn't seem like he'd be into birds.

Craney closes his binder and rubs his chin. “Tell me one thing, Bergstrom. What exactly is your objection to these prayers?”

Liam's stomach tightens. “Religion is kind of personal. Not everyone believes what Coach does.” He leans forward. “Some people on the team feel left out. Some say things they don't believe to please Coach.” He points to his chest. “That's what I did. It encourages hypocrisy.” He pauses. “Anyway, it's unconstitutional for Coach to lead these prayers at school.”

“Whoa,” Craney says. “The lawyers will take care of that.” He locks eyes with Liam. “You know you've opened up a can of worms, don't you?”

Liam shakes his head. “The can was open. It's been open a long time. I just told some people about it.”

“That's enough, Bergstrom.” Craney turns to watch the cardinal. “Back to class.”

Liam and Darius dress for practice in the beat-up gym locker room. Unlike the shiny benches of the basketball locker room, everything here is from the last century.

“Did Craney talk to you about Kloss?” Liam ties a double knot.

“No, why?”

“He got a letter about Coach leading prayers before games.”

“What kind of letter?” Darius pulls up his shorts.

“A letter from a lawyer threatening to sue if Kloss doesn't stop.” Liam kicks his locker to close it completely.

“Who contacted the lawyer?”

Liam taps his chest.

Darius's eyes widen. “No way! Quitting the team. Taking on Kloss. I didn't know you had it in you.” He extends his fist and Liam pounds it.

“I told Craney you made me do it.” Liam smiles.

“Get out of here.” Darius gives him a shove and Liam slides away.

As they walk down the hall, Darius stretches his arms over his head. “I'm glad someone else is finally standing up to Kloss.”

Liam stretches, too. Standing up to Kloss. Hearing Darius say it makes it sound stronger. “I've got another question.”

“Yeah.”

“Why is your sculpture titled
Reaction
? What's it reacting to?”

“Two things.”

“What?”

“Life and death.” Darius scrunches his eyebrows and tightens his mouth to look like the sculpture. “I practiced making faces in the mirror.”

Liam laughs. He unwraps a piece of Trident. He's not sure
what to expect at practice, but with all those girls, he'd better have decent breath.

Heads turn as Liam and Darius enter the gym. Leah Braverman, who's leading a stretching exercise with one leg bent behind her and the other in front, pauses. “Let's welcome Darius Buckner and Liam Bergstrom. They're going to practice with us for the rest of the year.” Leah waves them forward. “Join the circle for Transition.”

“Why do we need guys?” Jessica McAuliffe sits up. She's a junior and she's big. Not as tall as Liam, but she must weigh forty pounds more. She's got a tattoo of barbed wire around one arm and Scooby-Doo on the other.

Liam sits down next to Darius.

“It's girls' basketball.” Chloe Keenan tightens the band on her ponytail. “It's only supposed to be girls.”

“Yeah,” Jessica says. “We're doing fine.”

“Listen.” Leah stretches to grab her foot. “Our goal isn't to do fine. Our goal is to win State. We won it my sophomore year and we had a couple of guys practice with us then. I
want another championship, and to do that, we need to improve. We need Darius and Liam. It's not going to change the rotation in games. It's not going to change playing time. It's going to help us get better. Everybody got it?”

Liam looks over at Jack Franzen, who's sprawled out on the bleachers reading a book. He sure doesn't act like a coach.

“We don't need them,” Jessica mumbles.

“Last stretch.” Leah extends both legs in front of her and bends her head to her shins like she's made of rubber.

Liam tries to bend, but he can't even get halfway to his knees.

Leah sits up straight. “Who's got Game of the Day?”

“I do.” Chloe raises her hand. “But now it doesn't seem right.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I had a silly one for Valentine's Day, but I didn't expect we'd have guys.” She glances at Liam and Darius.

“Jack talked with us last week about inviting them.” Leah raises her voice.

“Yeah, but I didn't think they'd be crazy enough to say yes.” A couple of girls laugh.

Liam looks down at the floor. He shouldn't be here if he's not wanted.

“Tell me the game.” Leah slides over to Chloe, who whispers in her ear.

“That's okay,” Leah says. “They're just guys.”

“Maybe I should call it Duck, Duck, Goose,” Chloe says.

“No.” Leah shakes her head. “Keep it the way it is.”

“Okay.” Chloe rolls the sleeves of her shirt up. “The game is called Friends and Lovers. We need to move back and make this circle huge.” She gestures for everyone to scoot back. “Three of you are going to be searchers who stand on the outside of the circle and run around tapping people's heads and saying ‘friend' or ‘lover.' If you get a friend tap, you stay sitting. If you get a lover tap, you chase that person around the circle and try to catch them before they can get back to your spot. If you catch the searcher, you get to go back to your spot.”

“What if you don't catch them?” Leah asks.

“Then you stay a searcher,” Chloe says. “You, Jess, and Iris will start out as searchers.”

Liam sits cross-legged. What does this have to do with basketball? He feels like he's accidentally walked into a women's bathroom and can't get out.

“Friend.” Iris taps him on the head.

“Friend.” Jessica whaps him harder than necessary.

“Lover.” Leah taps Darius, who jumps up for the chase. She races around the circle, but Darius closes fast.

He lunges for Leah right before she slides back into her spot. “I got you,” he calls.

“Agghhh,” she moans.

“Friend.” Iris taps Liam again.

“Lover.” Leah taps him on the head. He's watching Iris, so he's slow to jump up. Leah has a head start and dives into his spot before he can catch her. “You're a searcher, Liam.”

“Friend, friend, friend.” Liam runs around the circle, tapping heads. This game is silly. He's got to tap somebody who won't catch him.

“Lover.” He taps Iris on the head. She's up quickly and chases after him. He runs hard past Jessica, who leans back
to slow him down. Iris is right behind as Liam slides into place.

“You're a searcher again,” he says, and she looks disappointed. Maybe he should have let her catch him. He watches everyone laughing and yelling. It's a way to run and make it less boring.

“Great game, Chloe,” Leah says and the girls all stand. “Let's hear it for Chloe.”

“Vada vim. Vada vom. Yom. Yom. Yom.” The girls dance and shake. “Go, Chloe!” Liam looks to Darius, who shrugs. He doesn't have any idea what's going on either.

The rest of practice is a scrimmage. Liam, Darius, and three reserves run the offense and defense of Plainview, their next opponent, so the starters can get used to it.

“Don't let Leah have an open three, Darius.” Jack stands on the edge of the court and is into practice now. “Make her put it on the floor. She likes to crossover and go left. Force her right.”

Iris cuts underneath and Liam pursues. Jessica steps out, and Liam crashes into her. It's like running into a truck. She smirks above him as he's sprawled on the floor.

“You okay, Liam?” Jack asks.

“Yeah.” He scrambles up. He didn't expect a screen like that from a girl. He scowls at Jessica, who flexes her muscles and grins.

Darius passes to Liam. The girls' ball is a little smaller than the one he's used to. He bounces it once and passes back to Darius, who hits a jumper.

At the other end, Liam guards Jessica. “Get up on your feet,” Jack calls. “Have a lightness in your feet like you're about to lift off the ground.”

Jessica calls for the ball and Leah passes it. “Don't let Jess go middle,” Jack says. “Force her baseline, Liam.” Jessica turns and Liam blocks her shot.

“Foul,” she complains.

“Play through it,” Jack says. “Jess, you'll be going against taller players in the playoffs. You can't go straight over the top of them the way you've done in conference. You need to make a move.”

Jessica bumps Liam as he jumps for a rebound. If he doesn't play as hard as he can, he's going to get run over. These girls can play.

At the end of practice, players spread out and lie on their backs on the floor.

“Liam and Darius, join us,” Jack says as he turns out the lights.

Everything is quiet in the dark and Liam hears Iris's breathing next to him.

“The river is never the same twice.” Jack walks among them. “Your challenge is to be aware. Right here. Right now. Satisfaction comes from being deeply present in each moment.”

Liam shifts his hips to get more comfortable. How can Jack see in the dark? What if he trips over someone?

“Horizon High School Blazers,” Jack says. “Trailblazers. The word comes from scouts who rode ahead to make a mark, or a blaze, on a tree so others could follow. You each have trails to blaze.” Jack stops walking and lets the words hang in the stillness. “You are Trailblazers.”

Liam wiggles his ankle. How long do they have to lie like this?

“Tomorrow, Plainview visits,” Jack says. “Don't make the game more complicated than it is. Basketball is beautiful in
its simplicity.” He pauses. “Visualize what you want to do on this court. Visualize how you will move. Visualize how you will feel with the ball in your hands.”

Liam breathes in the smell of sweat and wood varnish. The only thing he can visualize is that his butt hurts.