Tyrese Samuels had imagined when he'd been telling his family he was going off to the State championship, and the next time he'd talk to them, everyone would know he's the best in the state, they'd all be there.
The reality was much different. Meg was the only one sitting at the table with him, and instead of a rousing speech, it was just a quiet talk. In fact, he already knew by now that no one else gave a shit, and had been trying to leave without any speech at all when Meg caught him at the door.
'The bus'll be there soon,' he said. 'I don't need to tell you this one's the championship game.'
'All the more reason you need to eat something, Ty,' she said, looking at him sternly.
He took another deliberate bite of the banana in his hand, chewing slowly. He hadn't eaten anything all day, and she knew it. Now she was watching him to make sure he ate this, like he was one of the twins.
He hadn't eaten simply because he hadn't been hungry, just like how he'd hardly slept the night before, but he wasn't tired. He didn't NEED food or sleep; football was the only fuel he needed.
He met Meg's gaze. She was still staring at him, arms crossed as she watched his jaw work up and down. She was acting more like a mother than a little sister. Actually, he doubted Mother would act that way at all.
Ty didn't want to think about any other part of his family. He KNEW they didn't care, knew they wouldn't be there. But a stupid, incessant little voice in the back of his head—that sounded annoyingly similar to Ricky—kept asking, "what if they turn up?".
They WOULDN'T. Only Meg would be there. No matter what, she'd be there. 'Make sure you stay safe if you have to get a bus or something,' he said.
Her stern look melted into a smile, her cheeks darkening.
She was always so attached to him, so of course she'd be there. Thinking about it, they were closer than any of the other siblings. Except maybe the twins; the twins were almost as inseparable as if they were Siamese.
Even then, Meg doted on them. A mother hen looking after the young. The twins gave her some grief, but nothing like the trouble they caused for any of their actual parents. And Ty had never seen them fight, or be mad at one another for any meaningful period. Maybe they already knew they were all they had—the little miracles meant to save a marriage. Maybe they had, if Mother and Father could even constitute a married couple anymore, but it hadn't earned them any favours.
None of Ty's older siblings were close to anyone in the family. Devon and Victoria weren't home long enough to say more than one word to anyone. And Precious had already done the smart thing and moved away for college. "Has it been six months since we saw her?"
Maybe Vicki and Precious were closer before Precious moved away. Close like the twins? Or like how Megan and he were? Maybe in their own way. But he couldn't remember.
Devon hadn't been close with any of the girls, and Ty doubted he knew Josh and Jason's names. But … was it that long ago that Ty was looking up to his big brother, trying to cling to Devon the way Meg clings to him now? Yet Devon pushed him away.
Ty scowled around his mouthful. Ignoring the fact that he was ten when he was infatuated with his older brother, he'd been stupid to think that selfish, wannabe "gangsta" had ever been cool.
But maybe that was the thing, maybe the older a Samuels got, the further they drifted away from everyone. Wasn't the plan to follow Precious's lead and go to university somewhere far away? Preferably a D1 school on the other side of the country. Miami would work.
'What time did you say the bus pick up was?' Meg asked. Her voice dragged Ty from his thoughts.
'Now. I should go,' he answered.
He picked the last chunk of banana from the peel, ate it while he walked to the bin and dumped the peel. Meg stood, watching him as he grabbed his bag from the table. They stared at one another.
The faint roar of the lawnmower filtered in through the backdoor. Under it were the twins' giggles and squeals, Father's shouts. No doubt they were terrorising him as he finally did something about the husbandly duties he'd been avoiding for weeks. Were they playing a game? Running from some big, growling monster? Ty bet they'd be in for real trouble if the REAL monster caught them.
Like she knew his thoughts were occupied by their other family members, Meg said: 'I'll try to convince Mom and Dad to come. If not, I'll find a bus there, or an Uber or anything. I won't miss this game for the world.'
'Yeah, thanks. … Good luck.'
A bemused smile spread across her face. 'Good luck to you too, big bro. But I know you don't need it.'
Ty shrugged his bag onto his shoulder and went for the door. She was right; he didn't need luck. When the door shut behind Ty, he inhaled deeply. Climbing onto his bike, he rode away from the house, and as he started for Dominguez High, he finally put family behind him.
He couldn't afford to have them bogging down his mind. He needed to focus. Only one thing mattered, and that was taking down Sierra Canyon.
The quiet ride was the perfect way to clear his mind, then hone his focus. When he arrived at the Dominguez High parking lot, his mind was a sharp blade aimed at Sierra Canyon's throat—aimed at Lennox Freeman.
The bus was there, waiting for him, as were other members of the team. Not all of them, but a good portion. People were throwing their bags in the storage, and Ty added his to the pile. Then he turned and saw a stranger marching towards them.
A young man with hardened eyes, a deadly serious expression, and a razor sharp buzz cut. With the duffle bag slung over his shoulder, he looked more like a teen soldier marching off to war.
Others stood and stared at the stranger, confused mutters spreading as he drew closer. Coach Hoang's voice cut through the noise when he said: 'Is that Breechwood?'
It WAS Jay. But now the visage of some Venice Beach surfer hippy had been replaced. It wasn't just the haircut, Ty had never seen him with such a determined look in his blue eyes, nor seen him carry himself so stiffly, all muscles taut, ready to explode.
Other seniors crowded around him, Deshaun and Stephen closest amongst them, rubbing his shaven head, trying to ask what had happened, but constantly interrupting themselves with laughter.
Ty, for one, was glad to see this more serious edge to the slacker. It hammered home the importance of the championship. From the approving look JJ gave Jay, he felt the same.
Coach Long whistled, wrangling the boys away from Jay as he called for the team to come onboard and find a seat.
Ty, assuming the back of the bus would be too rowdy with how Jay's new look had stirred up the seniors, took a seat at the front. Bella slid in beside him shortly after.
'Oh my god, did you see Jay's hair?' she asked, failing to suppress a giggle with her hand.
'It suits him,' Ty said. Though when he envisioned Jay he still saw a beach hippy instead of a boy soldier. 'He looks more focused. Which is good. I only wish more of us were.'
She rolled her eyes. 'What are you? A buzz cut buzzkill? It won't kill you to laugh, you know.'
Ty huffed. Maybe he'd chosen the wrong seat. Bella smirked at him, then giggled more. He looked at her like she was going crazy.
'What are you laughing at?' he asked.
'Ohhh, nothing,' she said innocently before tugging on one of his dreads. 'Just thinking about how funny you'd look if you shaved your head. … But the dreads suit you.'
Ty turned away, frowning at his reflection in the window. He didn't think much about his hair or his looks. He touched the dread Bella had tugged. A buzz cut would be easier to maintain, wouldn't it? But he didn't really like the thought. He was plain enough with dreads. What was he thinking? He snarled at himself, the sharp, shark-like teeth flashing. They were an anomaly, a sign that he was different; special. Ty was bland only until you saw his teeth and REALLY looked into his eyes. Then you'd see him for what he really was—a shark in human skin.
No one else had these teeth they were an indicator that Ty was special. … But Myles had. How could MYLES be special? There would be others, too. But if that didn't mean they were special …
The bus rocked into motion. Ty used the jolt to swat away his thoughts, then settled back into his seat. He WAS special. It didn't matter if there were others out there with his teeth. That didn't make them like him.
Bella felt the confidence exuding from Ty. A glance was all it took to see he was brimming with it. Self-assured confidence, bordering on arrogance. It was the usual aura he had. She looked away quickly, cheeks heating up. She tried to smother the fire burning behind them with her hands.
Why wouldn't Ty be confident? He had every right. He knew he—and the Dons—would win, and that Lennox Freeman—and the Trailblazers—would lose. It was a forgone conclusion; simple fact.
Why? Because Tyrese Samuels was special.
The bus ride was long, and loud chatter drifted down from the back, as Ty had suspected it would. Though with his choice of seat keeping him away from most of the noise, his headphones blocked out the rest and allowed him to keep his focus.
Eventually, they arrived at the field, pulling into the parking lot. As they did so, another bus, near-identical to theirs, pulled in from the opposite end. Sierra Canyon was here too.
Ty wasn't in any rush, but he was still the first one off to represent the Dons' players. He swaggered to the storage container and took his bag. He moved with purpose, a relaxed, confident bounce in his step. The game had already begun, and these first impressions—mental warfare—were almost as important as the physical battles that were saved for the inner sanctum of the gridiron's coliseum. You needed to keep your own confidence high, whilst obliterating your opponent's.
He pulled his bag free, and turned away from the Dons' bus, facing Sierra Canyon's. There, standing in the doorway, planted with no intention of stepping off soon, was Lennox Freeman.
It was Ty's first good look at Lennox's face. A plain face, similar to his own. Yet it'd be one he'd etch into his memory over the course of sixty minutes, and be able to recall as clearly as Meg's.
Receivers and CB's that played against each other knew each other as intimately as anyone would. On the gridiron, you saw into each other's souls.
Ty knew Lennox would have to recover from the shock of looking deep within Ty and finding a player unlike any he'd ever faced before or ever would … but Ty wondered what he'd find inside Lennox's soul.
The two stared at each other for what felt like an age, but couldn't have been more than ten seconds—still enough time for Lennox's teammates to start complaining about him blocking the door.
Then Lennox grinned, revealing criss-crossing rows of sharp teeth.