Andrew Smith - Winger

Then the four boys walked back to where Joey was, and I watched them, but it didn’t look like Joey was expecting them at all. In fact, Joey looked startled when he saw them. And the next thing I knew, all hell broke loose and someone yelled to look out because the kid had a knife in his hand.

I’ve seen people do some pretty stupid things in my life, but trying to jump a rugby player in front of his whole team has to be about the stupidest. One of the boys ran off right away. I saw Chas going after him, but the punk had too much of a lead on Chas, so I thought I’d help him out, which was also pretty stupid considering my stitches and that other injury I’d been trying to forget, but couldn’t, because I felt the sting of pain every time I moved my right leg.

I caught the kid and took him down right on the wet black asphalt of the Sacred Heart driveway. I didn’t get hurt, because he was wearing a down jacket and I landed on top of him, but he scraped up his face pretty good when he hit the pavement. I just pinned him down and tried to not get his blood all over my dwindling supply of school shirts, and Chas caught up to us and kicked the kid twice in the ribs. I know he broke something when he did it, too, because Chas was never one to go soft on anyone if he decided to actually go that far.

“What the fuck are you thinking?” Chas said, but the kid didn’t answer, he just gasped and bled. A lot. And Chas continued, “You’re hardly bigger than Winger. I should just piss on you, you stupid dumb fucker.”

Well, that really didn’t do much for my self-esteem, but I said, “Let me get off him first if you do, Chas.”

When I stood up, I heard sirens. Someone had called the police.

I looked back to the crowd where Joey and Kevin had been standing, and I saw that Coach M and some other adults were holding on to the other three boys.

“Let’s take him back to the others,” I said.

And Chas grabbed the bleeding kid in a wristlock and forced him back toward the cafeteria. As we got closer, we both saw that several people were kneeling. Kevin was down on the ground, lying on his back. A nun had her hand on his forehead. Joey was saying something to him. He was holding Kevin’s hand. The front of Kevin’s shirt was covered in blood, and he was coughing and staring straight up into the sky.

Kevin Cantrell had been stabbed.

A knife lay on the ground beside his shoulder.

The sirens grew painfully loud, and the first cop car screeched up right alongside where Kevin was lying.

COACH MCAULIFFE RODE WITH KEVIN to the hospital in an ambulance.

The boy who pulled the knife was taken, handcuffed, in another.

Kevin had been stabbed in the shoulder when he tried to take down the guy with the knife. He wasn’t badly cut, and Coach assured us he was going to be okay. Not so good for the guy who stabbed him, though, because Joey broke that boy’s arm and jaw when he slammed him into the pavement. I honestly think that kid might have died if there haven’t been so many grown-ups around.

By the time the cops had arrested the four boys and gotten us all to write out our statements, it was almost seven o’clock and a cold rain was falling. Coach called from the hospital and told the bus driver to take us back to Pine Mountain.

It was a quiet and dark ride home.

No singing.

I don’t think any of us could stop thinking about Kevin and why something like this happened to someone as easygoing as him. It hurt us all because Kevin could accept anyone and anything, which is why, we all knew, he didn’t mind rooming with Joey—something that would be social death to most guys.

But Kevin was just Kevin.

I hoped it didn’t ruin him.

JP was still upset about the penalty he’d given up. Every fullback I’d ever known was like that; they had the toughest job on the team, and when they made mistakes, it was usually costly, so they tended not to let go of things very easily. That was probably the biggest reason why I believed our fight was far from over—the fullback psychology. But I knew I’d have my opportunity over the weekend to ruin his chances with Annie once and for all.

Seanie sat beside JP, but JP wasn’t talking. He just stared out the window, brooding, until he fell to sleep.

I sat stretched out in a bench seat by myself. I looked back the length of the bus and saw that Joey was alone too. So I got up and stumbled down the aisle to sit with him. Joey put his arm across the back of the seat in front of him and lay his head down on it. He had to be hurting about Kevin, but who wasn’t? It wasn’t Joey’s fault.

“Hey,” I said.

Joey didn’t answer.

I never saw anyone on the team cry before, but just then I thought Joey might have been. And I felt really awkward, but I put my arm around Joey’s shoulders. And then I thought how stupid I was for feeling like that because I wouldn’t feel weird about putting an arm around Seanie or Kevin or any other guy friend of mine who was hurting.

Seanie turned around from where he was sitting up near the front of the bus, and he looked at me and mouthed “homo,” then smiled. That was just Seanie being Seanie. So I flipped him off.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Joe,” I said. “You want to talk or something?”

Then I patted his head and put my hand down so I could push myself up to stand.

“Oh, and hey, I never did say thanks for that pass, Joe. So, thanks. Oh, and I’m breaking up with Megan tomorrow. I swear. As soon as we make out one more time, that’s it. Well, maybe twice more. Okay, three more times. But that is it .”

I laughed. Joey looked at me.

He looked pissed.

“I’m just kidding, Joey.”

I stood up and looked out the window.

“How stupid was that, anyway, trying to jump a guy in front of his whole rugby team?” I said.

Joey didn’t say anything.

“Okay. I’ll go now. I guess you don’t want to talk. Sorry, I just thought this fucking ride was getting boring.”

“Since when do you cuss?” Joey said.

“I cussed when Seanie stepped on my balls yesterday.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“In that case, I take back what I just said about the bus ride, just to keep my record clean.”

“Sit down,” Joey said.

“Okay.” I sat next to Joey.

“And, yeah, it was a pretty stupid thing to do,” Joey said.

“The one guy said he was your cousin. That’s why I pointed you out. I’m really sorry, Joe.”

“He isn’t my cousin. And it wasn’t your fault.”

“At least Kevin’s going to be okay,” I said. “He might have saved your life.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know what it was about, Joey?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Okay,” I said. “Well, you know I totally trust you, Joey. I know you can keep a secret for me. So if you want to tell me anything about it, it’s okay, and if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand too.”

Joey took a deep breath. He glanced around. The bus was dead. Nearly everyone was asleep.

He said, “The kid with the knife. His name’s Mike. His brother and I used to see each other. When his folks found out, they flipped. They sent him away to a hospital for crazy kids.”

“Oh.”

Joey said, “It fucked him up worse than anything. Mike told me he was going to come after me one day. I never believed him.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Joey cleared his throat. “I never tell anyone this shit, Ryan Dean.”

“I won’t say anything, Joe.”

“I know.”

“Did you tell the cops?” I asked.

Joey nodded his head. “I wrote it all down, Ryan Dean.”

“Oh. Okay.” I drummed my fingers against my leg. That Band-Aid, which had become a symbol of my life, was really starting to bug me. “Hey, Joey? Can I tell you about how stupid my mom is?”