Chapter 27

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JAX

Denver was already gone when I woke up, probably to breakfast downstairs. The light was just barely coming through the curtains, lighting up his empty, neatly made bed.

I groaned and stretched, rubbing my eyes tiredly. I had barely slept last night. How the hell could I, lying silently beside Denver, trying not to give any indication I was awake.

I sighed and slid out of the bed, running a hand through my hair, leaving the blankets left in a crumpled pile. Denver was so dumb. Didn't he know about room service? You'd think that he was the poor one out of us.

Soon I was entering the restaurant, which now had a buffet breakfast spread laid out. I spotted Denver sitting with his mates at a table to my right, and pretended I hadn't.

Ryan joined me on my other side, coming up for a second round of food. "Hey man, still alive after last night with Denver? "He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Barely, " I muttered, looking away.

"What?" said Ryan, grabbing a bread roll straight off the bread roll plate and stuffing it into his mouth.

"I said, leave some for me. " I reached out and grabbed two rolls.

I had never been to a hotel this nice in my life. They had way too many types of fruit and milk you could have. And cured meat, and cheese. And bread. Who the hell needs seven different types of bread?

After breakfast, we were sent back upstairs to pack our day bags. Denver had already started, as once again he had gotten there earlier than me. His skin was unmarked - the bruises I had given him were gone. I guess he had used Mrs. Coach's magic stuff. We worked in silence, even as loud cheerful conversation sounded through the walls from our teammates.

Then Denver cleared his throat. "Here, " he said, chucking something at me. "Yours. "

I caught it in one hand. It was the sweatshirt I had slept in. It was literally like seven years old, and had been huge on me when I first got it.

I willed my face not to go red. How had it ended up on his bed? Shit. I must have chucked it when I got changed or something.

Reflexively, I went to say thanks, then stopped. Should I say thanks? It seemed weird to thank Denver for anything.

In the end I just nodded at him, and he turned around and kept packing his gear away.

Fuck. So fucking weird.

Soon he was finished faster than me, again, and the door to our room clicked closed.

I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding, letting my grip on my bag loosen, stopping what I was doing.

All the tension in the room had vanished the minute he stepped out the door. All the energy, too. I felt drained like I hadn't in weeks.

I started packing my stuff again slowly. The smell of Denver's deodorant still filled the room. With a jolt, I realised it was the same he had used back when we first hit puberty and needed to. I had used the same as well. Until things went to shit, anyway.

In the hallway, I caught up with Ryan, who quickly stubbed his lit cigarette into an ashtray, then relaxed when he saw it was me.

"Could have said something, man. That ciggie wasn't finished," Ryan said regretfully.

"Dude, you can't smoke in here. " I said, wrinkling my nose.

Ryan laughed and looked at me weird. "Since when have you gave a shit? Wait, do you not smoke anymore?"

Now it was my turn to give him a weird look. "Fuck you mean? Course I do. "

"I literally have not seen you smoke in ages. "

"What! I - " Now come to think of it, I hadn't smoked in a while.

"Huh. " I said. "Wack. "

We went down the stairs, our footsteps quiet on the carpet, gear clunking in our bags.

The guys, decked out in our school uniform red and grey tracksuits with AMBICTON ALPACAS and our alpaca logo across the back, stood clustered in the middle of the gleaming lobby, talking animatedly. Coach stood scrolling on his phone, no doubt checking the day's schedule.

Denver stood in the middle of the crowd, gesturing with his hands, Rio cackling beside him.

As we got closer, I heard what he was saying.

"Yeah, the Roosevelt Reindeers - they've got this HUGE linebacker. What's he called? What did we call him?"

"Rudolph!" crowed Rio from beside him.

"Yeah, Rudolph - cos his nose goes so red when he gets drunk, it's perfect. Yeah, we love the Reindeers! They were staying at the same hotel as us and - " his voice drops to a whisper "we shared our booze around. I'm actually looking forward to seeing them again, they're our homies." He tugs on the front of his jacket. "They came fourth last year, one place behind us. They play fair, but some of them get angry. They won't do anything dirty, they'll just play rougher. The Aztecs, however - " a chorus of boos rose up from the guys who had gone to tournament last year "- man, they're dirty as dirt. Stomping, tripping, clotheslining - hey Rio, didn't some guy also grab your crotch last year?"

A chorus of whoops went up from the guys. Rio grinned.

"Yeah, he wanted some. And he got it too - hurt like hell. He was suspended for that. "

"Yeah, fuck him - they're also just kind of assholes, you know? They'll mess with your head on the field. Don't let them do that. Anyway, we're playing them last, and we're playing the Reindeers today. It's gonna be hype. "

The guys broke off into their own conversations. Ryan yawned. "I remember the Reindeers, " he said. "Oscar's cousin is on that team. He brought the booze last time. "

"Alright, boys. " Coach hollered over us. "Van's outside, let's go. "

We made our way outside to the van. It was a still, overcast day, and seagulls circled overhead. Minory City was by the sea, but we hadn't caught a glimpse of it yet.

We boarded the hired van, it's interior smelling like new leather. I took a window seat, and Ryan sat down next to me, squeezing over to make room for Marc. Denver sat at the front (course he did) with Rio next to him, outlining the shape of a football field in the air and pointing to "players", talking strategy.

Rio was nodding furiously, his jaw working on a wad of gum. "Uh huh. Yeah. Exactly. I definitely know what the fuck you're on about, " He was saying, making Denver laugh and drop his hands.

Man. Rio was definitely gonna have face tattoos when he was older, I just knew it.

Marc was talking about a book he'd read recently that basically said that guys who were mean or "overly critical" as he put it were insecure about themselves or something.

"Well, you do always beat me in Call of Duty and then laugh, " Ryan points out to him.

Marc spreads his hands, palms up. "I cannot help it! Maybe if you were not so incompetent. "

"I'm not incompetent! You just are - "

I stopped listening, turning my face to watch the city outside passing by. It was early morning and many people were rushing to work, coffees in hand. We passed a few museums and a swimming pool.

I wondered if Denver travelled much still. Back when we were friends, his family once went to Canada for a skiing holiday and brought me along. I had never been skiing before that. My dad hadn't wanted me to go, saying Denver's parents were trying to "rub money" in our faces, but actually Denver's parents had always liked me. Especially his dad.

Who had probably had had sex with my mom. The thought made bile rise up at the back of my throat. Had they? What did adults do usually when they cheated on their married partners? My parents had been married when my dad was twenty-three and my mom was seventeen. Younger than me. Wack.

I remembered my first girlfriend, when I was twelve. Her name was Alyssa, and she played netball. All the other guys had wanted to go out with her, and that was the reason I asked her out. I literally said like twenty words to her over the course of our "relationship". Denver had his first girlfriend when we were both thirteen - he was actually seven months older than me, though. It was Mallory. She wasn't hot back then, and kind of had rabbit teeth. She was also high-key crazy. She asked Denver out, and I think he said yes because his little thirteen-year-old self was so flattered at having a girl notice him.

So dumb. He was literally so dumb.

Did Denver still like girls? Were him and Mallory actually together? No...

I remembered her standing behind him as he came up to me at what's-his-name's party, and her trying to seperate us as we tried to tear each other apart.

Were they together?

I forced myself to relax my fists, opening them. I had made small red half-moon marks in my palms from pressing my nails into them, even though my nails were short.

Shit.

It didn't mean they were together though. Not that I cared. But Mallory and Denver had been friends since they had "broken up" two days after they started "dating" in 8th grade.

She was like into arts and stuff. I didn't have any friends like that.

I rubbed the half-moon marks on my right hand with my left hand thumb, feeling inexplicable discomfort boiling under my skin.

I sighed and dropped my hands, looking out of the window. We had stopped at an intersection, and over to our right was giant statue of a sheep.

"Oi guys, look. " I yelled over the din in the van. "Short alpaca."

Heads went up, looking over to where I was pointing.

"Short alpaca!" Somebody yelled hysterically. This prompted a chant in the van.

"AL-PA-CA. AL-PA-CA. AL-PA-CA. "

Somebody started beatboxing, and Coach, in the front seat, even joined in.

This continued until we rounded the corner and came up to a parking lot with a green field stretching out behind us, a large sign with "McArthur Sports Field" printed in block letters across it.

ROCCO

The warmups were tense and focused, which was good. A little bit of tension was always good. It was our first real game as a team - it was kind of weird to start off the season with a tournament, but we'd been training for weeks now and were now fighting fit, if I said so myself. Even with a few new guys - our flow as a team was way better than last year's.

I turned to run another length, and saw Wilson out of the corner of my eye, five guys down from me. His stride was way too graceful than was fair, for someone who did not give a shit about being graceful. As he bent down to touch the white line in the grass, strands of his platinum hair slipped down and fell in front of his face.

I wrenched my eyes away. Now was not the time. Not that there was a time for watching Wilson. We had a game to win, and I could not be distracted with Wilson's  -

"Alright, come on in boys!" Coach hollered. I swear this man could only holler and start sentences with "alright".

We gathered in around him, all breathing hard, all kitted out in red and grey ALPACA football gear, helmets still off for the time being.

"Grab a drink boys, and then we'll go over what you guys all already know, " said Coach.

We jogged over to grab our drink bottles, then formed a half-circle again around Coach.

"So we should have done this yesterday, but there's no time like the present. Denver and Wilson have something to say to you all. "

JAX

My stomach dropped. The guys around us stilled, wondering what the hell me and Denver could possibly have in common. My eyes flicked over to Denver. He looked unfazed, moving into the middle of the half-circle.

I sighed, and pushed through the guys to stand beside him, feeling their eyes on us.

Denver cleared his throat. "So as you guys already may or may not know, me and Wilson had a, um, fight recently. "

This brought forth a few chuckles and eye-rolls from the group. "What's new. " Someone muttered.

"We wanted to apologise for putting the team and this tournament at risk with our actions. We could have gotten injured and not been able to play, not mentioning being suspended or something, and just generally making the team look bad. I, as team captain, am especially ashamed of my actions. "

That brought a bad taste to my mouth. Was that meant to mean that bad behaviour was just expected of Jax Wilson? Like it wasn't anything to be surprised about? I guess that was true enough, but it didn't feel right.

"We have learn from this and promise it won't happen again. As Alpacas this kind of behaviour is not what we represent as a team, on or off the field. "

There was silence.

"Yeah. " I said, and pointed to Denver. "What he said. "

A laugh went around the team.

"Nah, I'm playing. I am really sorry guys. It was pretty fucki - uh, really dumb of us. And you guys are fire. I love the Alpacas. Not gonna happen again. "

There was scattered clapping and "Encore, encore. " from Rio, who flashed me a grin. I was too surprised to react - Rio hated me with all his guts. Weird.

"Alright, now we're done with that. You guys remember the T formation we worked on last week? Marc, you remember how you gotta move in variation 1? Yeah? Good on you, my man. Ok, this is a solid team, guys. Stay focused, play fair, loosen up. Hands in, boys. "

We all put our hands in, and Denver counted down "1,2,3 - "

"Alpaca." We roared, then peeled off onto our starting positions on the field, the refs on either side jogging to their positions.

The blue and yellow Reindeers mirrored us on the other side.