Chapter 5

I couldn't help but smile as images from the past ran through my head, including the sensation of Ruth's surprise as she realized I had led her in a wide square around the campus, as well as the feeling of warm, soft flesh brushing against my arm. The blonde who was standing next to me brought my thoughts back from their wanderings. I had intended to drag her behind me for some time, at least up until the point where I was nude and riding my cock, but I found that I didn't want to do that at the moment.

I apologized to her and called her "babe." "I have a match scheduled for the next day."

Riana's expression of disappointment was already a thing of the past as I turned my back on her and proceeded from the rain shower to the shower in the locker room. After becoming a little warmer in the shower, I had a brief conversation with Holder, gathered my belongings, and then I went home. I was driving out of the parking lot when I saw an old, beat-up Hyundai with a pretty little brunette sitting in the driver's seat. I made the decision to tail her all the way back to her house.

Holy motherfucking f***!

It was none other than the town's sheriff, Murphy Brown, who was home when the Hyundai came into his driveway. I wasn't sure if I should laugh or laugh even more at the situation. To begin, the guy truly detested me, not so much due to the fact that I got into trouble, but rather due to the fact that I was always able to get out of it on the rare instances that I was caught. I had never been required to pay a fine for whatever I had done, whether it was a citation for speeding, an illegal parking infraction, or a noise violation. Not back when Daddy was the head of the sheriff's department. In no uncertain terms, no. About the other matter, well, the individual was armed with a firearm.

It looked like we were in for an intriguing ride.

Before I headed back home, I made a few passes by the location but did not stop at any of them. As soon as I walked through the door, my home was peaceful and devoid of anyone else, so I pulled a frozen pizza out of the freezer, heated it up, and ate it. After that, I swiftly completed my assignments and brought out my sketchbook. I had a couple of hours to kill before my dad got home, and I was getting close to finishing the picture of the goalie. Just a little adjustments here and there, such as darkening the shadows and rounding out the corners. After I was finished, I removed it from the book and cut the edges so that they were nice.

I think that it had a really decent appearance overall. I focused my eyes intently on the piece of paper and examined it from a variety of angles for a full minute. I wondered if Dave would enjoy it… I mean, at the end of the day, it was still an image of soccer. Is what you did art? After giving my head a light shake, I slipped it inside the folder containing my homework and then stuffed everything else into my book bag. I dragged the bag all the way down down to the basement and set it down on the ground in the kitchen.

When I heard the ringtone on my phone, I quickly scanned the display to see who was calling before picking up.

"Everything fixed?"

At the very least, he won't officiate in the state of Oregon ever again.

"That's a good thing. Suspensions?”

“Wiped.”

"You rock."

I was on the phone when I heard the front door open, so I hung up.

"Have you cleaned up your act yet?" The call came from the foyer where the father was.

Excellent timing.

"Yes, everything's good—there have been no suspensions."

“Good.” After placing the mail on the kitchen table, he began perusing the takeout menus that were already there. “Homework?”

“Done.”

"Did you end up with a ton of extra work from those classes that prepared you for college?"

I responded, "No, don't worry about it. I've already finished the first book that we're going to be studying in English, and the most of the biology material will be covered through lab work at school."

He snarled, "When the hell did you read a book?" as he snapped the question. "You don't have time for that shite," the person said. I don't see why you're making any effort at all. You will not be attending a university. It's the pros or nothing, you jackass."

I responded with "I am aware." I made an attempt to leave the room, but he grabbed my arm and stopped me.

He responded by saying, "I asked you a fucking question." His eyes, which were a frigid blue, gazed into mine. I anticipate hearing back from you. Which book is it?"

I mumbled something about it being a Shakespeare class.

"What the fuck are you smoking, Williams!" His hold on my arm became increasingly firm. Because I knew that flexing my arm would only make him more angry, I made an effort to avoid doing so in order to reduce the amount of pressure that was being applied. I couldn't afford for him to get upset.

I responded by stating that I "figured it would be an easy A."

"Little shit," he said under his breath. "The next thing I know, you'll be playing the fucking piano like a pussy again."

My hands began to shake slightly, and I could feel the stress rising from my stomach all the way up into my arms. Once he let me go, I made a beeline for the sanctuary that was my room as soon as I could. I made a conscious effort not to look at the piano in the living room as I was walking, but I couldn't stop myself. Like it had done for the previous six years, it sat there with the lid down. I felt a momentary sense of comfort when I locked the door to my bedroom, but it was fleeting.

“Williams! Go down here!"

Shit! What shall we do now?

I walked back down the stairs when I unlocked the door and went back inside.

"Yes, Dad?" When I stepped into the kitchen, I questioned him where he was eating the Chinese cuisine as he was doing it. My book bag was unzipped, and the folder containing my homework was located in the exact center of the table.

He pushed the sketch that I had just done in my direction and questioned me, "What the fuck is this?" as he did so.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

“Um…”

"That is not a fucking response," the speaker said. I was startled when he slammed his fist on the table, which caused me to jump slightly.

It is better to finish what you are doing and move on.

I informed him that I would be attending the art class instead of the study hall. I made an effort to disregard it. Another simple A for my senior year, do you know what I mean?

"Goddammit, Williams!" I flinched when he slapped his hand down on the table with such force. "You should be out on the field fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking f I don't understand what the hell is wrong with you.

I informed him that my final period was open, and that I went to the field during lunch. I had an idea—"

He said indignantly, "Bullshit!" I started to reach for the sketch, but then I realized how huge of a mistake it was after I had already started. He seized it, tore it to shreds, and held the resulting fragments in his hand. You shouldn't be concentrating on this bulls—-. You idiots and your soccer. You center your attention solely on soccer, and I want you to understand that. Do you believe that Real Messini will be interested in looking at your coloring?

"No, Dad," I reluctantly responded. Before putting it in the rubbish can, he stuffed the torn paper into the bag with the empty soy sauce packets and fortune cookie packets and then threw the bag away.

"The day after tomorrow, drop that fucking painting class."

I had to force myself to swallow and respond, despite the fact that the feeling in my stomach was similar to that of having large balls of pizza dough in it.

“Okay.”

Shakespeare used the phrase "dash'd all to bits" to describe the catastrophe. I tried to think of something different, but for some reason the sentence from The Tempest kept popping into my head. I'm not sure why it did, but it did.

So the question was how I was going to convince Ruth's tilt Brown to tell me what her first name was.

“Hiya!”

At the exact moment that I was winding up my lunch and getting close to being ready to head out to the field, Braden Longs sat herself down next to me.

I replied, "Hello," even though I didn't much want to talk to her.

You are aware that the dance will take place the next weekend, correct? She popped a piece of chewing gum into her mouth as she rocked back and forth in the plastic chair that was provided in the cafeteria.

"Sure," I answered. Because I could see where this was headed, I didn't feel like listening to the rest of it.

"So, are you interested in coming with me?"

As I got up to depart, I greeted her with the word "busy."

"Have you already made plans for tonight?"

"That's beside the point." I made a move to leave, but she continued behind me.

"Williams!" she whimpered. "Williams!" You should know that you do not have to spend all of your time out on the field.

"Yes, actually," I answered, "I do."

I picked up the pace of my stroll and rapidly distanced myself from her. I took a couple shots on the goal, which is not my position, but every once in a while you have to branch out, and there was no one else outside to kick a few shots at me. When I got back inside the school, changed, and headed to biology with my hair still dripping from my shower, it was only misting, so at least I wasn't completely drenched.