Achieving Unbroken
Chapter Thirty One

—

"When life deals us cards,
Make everything taste like it is salt;
Then you come in like the sweetener you are,
To bring the bitter taste to a halt"
Sweetener | Ariana Grande

—

Jason
[Monday, July 11th, 2018 - 8:30 AM]

"OKAY, OKAY!" Coach Jenson screams on the sideline. He furiously blows into his whistle, which grabs the team's attention fast. Even though we have stopped conversation, he keeps screaming the following instructions: "DAVIS IS GONNA LEAD WARM-UPS. DYNAMICS, STATICS. OFFENSE: SEVEN LAPS AROUND THE FIELD. DEFENSE: FOUR LAPS AND TACKLE PRACTICE. AFTER THIS, WE RUN THROUGH PLAYS. UNDERSTOOD?"

From the other side of the field, where JV is starting their practice, I see a few freshmen looking over at us in fear. Coach Jenson's a tough coach, but cool guy. Listen to him and there's not a problem.

"I SAID, UNDERSTOOD?!" Jenson hollers again. A chorus of  "yes, coach" ripples through the team. He nods his head once, looking at us fiercely. "THEN GET STARTED!"

We look around, walking towards the field to get started, and Cannon — being the team captain — quickly starts spitting out instructions.

"High knees, to fifty yards and back!" From the 10-yard line, the team starts the dynamic warm-ups. While I can't complain that I'm getting a workout, I haven't done anything of this intensity in awhile. Clearly, Patrick, who is next to me in line, hasn't either.

"Jesus... Shit..." He huffs out every few jogs. It's a little distracting, because whenever he curses I want to laugh. Laughing distracts me from workouts.

"What, haven't worked out lately?" I joke through tired breaths.

"I'm not a cardio dude."

We hit the 50-yard line and turn around to go back. My legs ache from continuously keeping my knees at waist height, and I already feel myself working up a sweat in this 85 degree heat. Fucking global warming.

"God," Patrick pants when we are done, "I need to get in fuckin' shape." He bends over, hands resting on his legs and head bowed. I laugh, but it gets blended with all of the heavy breaths I'm inhaling and exhaling.

"Yeah, I think that this will do some good for me too."

Patrick lifts his head, and his eyes scan me before they shrink into a glare.

"Shut the hell up, Adonis."

"Lunges!" Cannon belts. Patrick and I share a look while he straightens up, the two of us walking together to get back in line. I notice Cannon watches us interact, almost confused; but he shakes it off and continues to observe the rest of the team's lunges.

"Are you two... I don't know, arguing?" Patrick pipes up after seeing what I just did. I shrug, knee bending forward.

"Not that I know of. He just doesn't seem interested in being friends anymore. I've tried to talk to him, but I can't force anything, right?"

"Right," he asserts. "Besides, the guys are pretty excited that Lilla brought you around. Peyton was beside himself, and Lilla raves about you to Vince non-stop, so he's excited that he's gotten to know you, too. E.J... Doesn't care about anything most of the time. But he's chill once you get to know him."

We hit the 50-yard line again, and turn around.

"Good to know," I smile through the pain of my burning legs, the smile coming across as more of a wince.

After the lunges, Cannon leads us through one more dynamic stretch and then we start statics.

"What're you doing this summer?" Patrick asks during a stretch.

"Uh... Not much? Football, hanging out. What about you?"

"Same. Vince's dad always brings him to the coast, and they rent a house over there and he lets Vince invite people. You should come."

"Isn't it invite-only?"

"He'll invite you. He wants to be friends, so I think he'll invite you. I think he's even trying to convince his dad to let Lil, Pipe and whoever else come. His dad thinks it's gonna turn into some kind of orgy though."

I choke on air. Patrick claps me on the back as I cough.

"Dude, was it the orgy thing?"

I try to grin through the coughing, shaking my head.

"White, Oakland! You two good over there?" Cannon yells from the other side of the field. Patrick gives him a strained grin and a thumbs up.

"All good, Cap!" He yells back, cupping his hands over his mouth for extra volume. Cannon nods, and then starts screaming about switching to laps. Patrick is offense, as am I; so we start our seven laps complaining like crazy.

"Who does Coach think he is?"

"For twenty bucks, I'll walk up to him and scream in his face 'You give us seven laps, Coach!'" Patrick jokes, impersonating how pissed off he would look if he yelled at Coach like that.

"You'd get kicked off the team for twenty dollars?"

"There are a lot of things that I would do for twenty dollars." He deadpans. This feels like a hole that I just keep digging myself into.

"... That sounds like a list of things that I don't want to see."

"Depends on how you look at most of 'em." Patrick shrugs. I choose not to answer; deciding that I don't need any more details about what goes on in his head.

Our feet shuffle along the track for awhile, trying to complete the seven laps without absolutely collapsing from how weak our legs are. Once we finish the last step of the seventh lap, him and I are close to dropping to the ground.

Very out of shape.

"OKAY, BOYS! HUDDLE UP. WE HAVE PLAYS TO RUN!" Jenson's voice scares us so bad that Patrick physically jumps up in surprise. The shock seems to exhaust him more, and he gives me a knowing look before yelling something at our coach while we walk to make a huddle.

"COACH! Time check?"

Jenson checks the bulky watch around his left wrist.

"10:21!"

Practice ends at 1:30.

—

Practice is over after three more grueling hours of fitness and football. Patrick and I grab our gym bags and sling them over our shoulders, and start up the stairs from the field to the parking lot. I dig around my bag to get my phone out to see if there are any messages from my parents. Turning it on, I see that there's only one notification: A text from Lilla.

Lilly: Heyyyyyy Ik ik ur at practice and I hope it's going well! Piper thinks we should hang so go shower, grab a teammate and meet us @ the Barn? Or the Honey Bear, we haven't decided what we want so plz help us

As Patrick and I walk, I hit him on the arm, eyes still on my phone screen.

"Wanna go clean up and meet Lil for lunch somewhere?" He knits his eyebrows together, thinking that he would be the third wheel.

"You, me and Lilla?"

"Well, Piper too, it sounds like."

Patrick's face perks up, barely noticeable to the naked eye, but I saw it because I know how it feels.

"Piper will be there?" I hold the phone up in front of his face to read the text. When he's done, he looks at me and smiles.

"I'm in."

"Sweet," I reply, texting Lilla back. "God, first you flirt your ass off with Lilla and now you're all over Piper?"

"Shut up," he emphasizes the "up" by elbowing me in the stomach. "Lilly? You've gotta be the only person on the planet who calls her that."

It takes me a moment to see that he's referring to Lilla's contact in my phone.

I'm the only one who calls her that?

"Oh, cool." I play it off nonchalantly, even though I'm internally high-fiving myself.

I'm the only one who calls her that.