Read an Excerpt

Fall 2016
Prepare to Play
The day of the first 
school game,
the team marches down the halls together,
loud with laughter,
matching jerseys filling their faces with triumph,
applause around them as they prepare to play while
I
flatten my b
o d
y against the lockers,
                                         moving
                                         out of their way.
All I can think is if I was on the team,
I wouldn’t 
be invisible.

Stadium
It seems like everyone in 
Chesterton comes to the first game,
the silver and red colors of 
our Bulldogs streaked on hundreds of faces,
wide smiles,
spirits high,
arms waving,
loud voices in the stands chanting the school spirit song,
the barely fall breeze of September flowing around us.
It takes 
only one quarter for everyone to realize our team isn’t going to win.
Austin’s tosses fall shorter,
Coach’s yells get louder,
and the 
number of fans in the stands gets smaller.
I feel like I’m rewatching last Sunday’s game,
rewatching Jay Cutler 
get sacked five times,
rewatching Bears fans 
leaving to 
avoid seeing a game 
end so low it crushes us to the ground.

Late Fall 2016
Division
In the book
The Last Fifth Grade of Emerson Elementary
the fifth graders don’t want their school 
shut down.
Because their class would be
                         divi          ded.
Because when friendships fr      ,
classes are lonely.
Months shuffle forward,
books my only companions,
lessons and learning all I do.
I hide in the library to escape the embarrassment of where to sit at lunch,
but even my favorite books don’t distract me from 
my despair.
I text Adam about how awful school is without him,
almost as awful as the Bears’ season has been.
Their loss in October against the Packers left a bitter taste in my mouth that hasn’t disappeared all of November.
                        I’m thinking
                        of switching teams, bruh.
BOOM.
My book falls 
out from my hand onto the school hall floor.
Adam’s moving on from the Bears?
From our team?

Free Agent
Adam 
and me were more 
than friends.
We were brothers,
since kindergarten.
Before we learned our letters,
we learned to toss a foam football.
Back and forth and forth and 
back.
Adam’s the one who 
first taught me the game,
about the Monsters of the Midway,
Da Bears.
We watched replays,
studied Super Bowl XX
over and over,
and together,
we drew dreams of being the next 
Super Bowl stars,
of bringing the Bears 
back to 
sweet greatness.
Adam was the lineman to my QB,
the one who had my back,
the encouragement in my ear that helped me play.
He was my link to the game.
Like a free agent without a team,
when Adam 
left,
my link was bro
         ken.