Chapter 11

Ray

I opened up my locker and got out my football gear. The locker room ironically reeked of mixed body odor and spray-on deodorant. My teammates were around me, getting their pads on too. I was really looking forward to practice today. This was the first time I would play after having discovered my powers.

Doug was next to me, tying his cleats. “You feelin’ okay, Ray?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Why?”

“Just saw you pass out when you touched a glowing rock a few days ago. Doesn't happen every day, you know? You haven’t fainted like that again, have you?”

“No. I’ve been feeling fine.”

The red space rock was taped under my pads, where it wouldn’t bother me on the field, and where I could keep it close. I slid my helmet down to partially conceal my eyes. Lessons I’d learned from a weekend of testing out my powers.

“Well, good,” Doug said, all geared up and ready to play. “Let’s go.”

I nodded, and we jogged out to the field. Practice started with some light warm-ups and stretches. None of these ignited my powers. I’d learned with some practice that I can turn my powers on and off. It wasn’t easy to do, especially while exercising. My powers felt like a burning in my gut that was ready to erupt, but I kept them dormant by concentrating on remaining calm. I didn’t want to use my powers just yet.

Coach Jones blew his whistle every five seconds to keep us going through our warm ups. His hat hooded his dark skin from the hot Arizona sun. He wore his usual blue on red T-shirt and shorts with a cougar, our school mascot, printed on them. His expression was intense, focused on getting us ready to win the next game. I was excited to show him a whole new level of quarterbacking.

Coach had us do hitting drills. It was especially difficult to keep my powers in check during this part. We all got in lines and practiced tackling each other. Even without my powers on, I was able to take down the guys I was put up against.

We finally started running some plays. Coach formed offensive and defensive teams. I, of course, was the quarterback. Doug was the wide receiver, as usual.

We huddled to hear the first play. It was a long pass play, my favorite. After we broke the huddle I looked at Doug. “Run all the way to the end zone,” I told him.

“C’mon, Ray,” he said skeptically. “That’s like eighty yards away.”

“Just do it!”

“Okaaay…”

We lined up and I called the snap. The two teams collided on the line as I held the ball, ready to throw it deep to Doug. One of the defenders broke through the offensive line and charged after me.

I usually would’ve run to keep my distance from him, but today was different. I just smirked at him as he got closer. At the last second, I ignited my powers, and I zipped out of his path. Surprised by my quick dodge, he flew by me and stumbled to the ground. I looked downfield. Doug was halfway to the end zone. Most quarterbacks would’ve thrown the ball by now, but today… I wasn’t most quarterbacks.

Three more defenders broke through the line, coming to tackle me. I heard Coach Jones shouting from the sideline. “Throw the ball Ray! Throw it!”

Not yet, I thought. Just keep on watching, Coach. You’re gonna love this. As the three defenders closed in on me, I ignited my powers. As if a slow-motion button was pressed, they instantly slowed down, but I kept moving fast. I easily evaded the first two, and I gave a solid stiff-arm to the third defender. His feet flew up from underneath him and went down hard on his back.

Doug was almost there. I was about to throw the ball, but before I did, I took a quick sidestep to the right. The very first defender who’d missed me earlier blew by me again, missing me entirely, stumbling to the ground.

I chuckled under my breath, having a blast. I could do this all day long! No one could tackle me! I was untouchable!

I eyed Doug way downfield. He was about ten yards from the end zone. I had never thrown an eighty-yard pass before. I didn’t know if any high school quarterback had. I cocked back my arm, ready to throw. I ignited my powers and the burning feeling surged up into my arm, and then I threw the ball harder and farther than I ever had before.

A little too far. Way too far. Whoops…

The ball flew high over Doug’s head, over the field goal post, over the practice field fence, over the street, and finally landed somewhere in the neighborhood beyond the practice field. It may have broken somebody’s window; it was too far to tell.

The play ended without a whistle, which was unusual. Coach Jones was too stunned to blow it. The whole team, including Doug and his defender in the end zone, stopped moving and just looked at me in disbelief.

“Oh crap,” I said.

Coach Jones eventually found his voice. “Ray!” he shouted from the sideline. “What in the world was that?”

What was I going to say? I just shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know, Coach. I guess I threw it a little too far.”

“A little? I think you just beat the world record by a couple hundred yards. Somethin’ you're not tellin’ me Ray?”

“No, I… uh…”

“Coach, he’s hurt!” The voice came from one of the defender’s who’d tried to sack me. He was kneeling over the defender I’d stiff-armed; James was his name, I think. I usually called him Mighty Jaime. He lay, sprawled on his back, not moving.

Coach Jones and his two assistant coaches hurried over to Mi—James. I watched them run by me and kneel over him. A lump came to my throat. What had I done? I didn’t mean to hurt him like that. “Is he okay?” I asked, worried.

“He’s unconscious,” Coach said, “but breathing. Probably has a major concussion.”

I sighed, relieved that I hadn’t killed him, but still guilty for hurting him with a strength that normal football players shouldn’t have.

Coach stood up, grabbed me by my helmet, and yanked me toward his face. “What are you takin’ Simmons?”

“What?” I said. “Nothing!”

“Be honest with me, Ray! Are you on ‘roids? Some illegal super drug?”

“NO! I—”

“Get off this field!”

I froze, unable to move or breathe.

“NOW!” Coach said, shoving me away from him. “And off this team! Before someone else gets hurt!”

I was speechless. A part of me wanted to argue with him to let me stay, but he had turned his attention to James. Truth was… he was right. I was likely to get someone else hurt. My powers were too dangerous for high school football. I turned and ran toward the locker room.

So much for becoming a football Hall-of-Famer. So much for impressing my brothers and living on in my dad’s legacy. That was all gone now! Why did I touch that stupid stone?