Freshman year came faster than expected; but it arrived regardless. A few things had happened at that point in my life since we last picked up in our journey. My father had died in a car wreck because he cared more about driving home drunk than he did his own family.
       Then there's, my mother, who has become very I'll with lung cancer. It was probably from the two-pack of cigarettes she smoked a day to deal with the stress of our drunken father everyday. Losing a parent and learning another might have the same fate would seem like two times in someone's life that might feel like the worse; but it wasn't. Even after enduring through those key moments in my life the worse things that happened to me my freshman year.
       I tried out for the football team. I had always loved the sport as I always watched it on television every Sunday. I had decent speed for my age; and I wanted to make some kind of name for myself in high school. So, I decided to try out for the team.
       I should've known it but I was surprised to see all four of the horsemen groups trying out for the team, as well. By this time in their lives they had a definite nickname for their group.
       I came out of the tunnel. Most of the team was gathered on the field aside for Mark, of course, who had snuck his way over to the cheer squad to talk to Kristina. Finally, another chance for me to redeem myself. Finally, another chance to show her I can do something valuable.
       I sounds of Kristina yelling, "Mark, knock it off."had pierced my ears and my attention. I turned to examine what was going on. From my viewpoint Mark was kissing her in ways that was making her feel uncomfortable.
       Quickly, I realized this was a moment that I need to seize. I ran to her aide, as if, I was her personal superhero to save the day. I remember thinking I felt like Tom Welling, aka Clark Kent, from the Smallville version as he never hesitated to swoop in to save Lana Lang; and or Lois Lane down the road. Maybe, she'll finally realize how much I like her. Maybe, she will realize she doesn't have to put up with Mark's bullshit and she deserves better than him.
      "I believe she said stop," I demanded Mark as I reached the epicenter of the commotion. I didn't have a second thought about the words. They just slipped on out without a worry in the world.
       Mark who, at this point, was working his way down Kristina's neck lifts his head before he turned his attention towards me. "What did you say?" He questioned as he approached me.
       By this point, in our life, Mark and I had a rivalry known around the town. Everyone knew that we didn't like each other. There was even an occasional bets going around town and how long each other would last before the next big brawl would happen. It almost felt like the town was watching their monthly PPV's of WWE. Just in this case it was free.
      "She said stop. I didn't hesitate," I fire back. I was no longer scared of Mark or his goons. To many years had passed for that to be the case.
      "You're just jealous that you don't get to do it to her. Does it bother you when you see it?" He teases me. I can't say anything because it was the truth. He knew it, I knew it, and so did everyone else. I'm pretty sure even deep down Kristina knew it even if she didn't acknowledge it.
       I looked down at the ground, but not before I notice Kristina looking at me. It was almost as if she was waiting for me to say the words.
      "Oh my, it does. It looks like Kristina has a creepy secret admirer," he laughs as some of the cheerleaders join him. I'm not the best looking guy even though I had a large ego, at that point. But to hear all the prettiest girls in the school laughing at me because I had a crush on Kristina knocked me down a few steps.
      "Stone. Jones. Get your asses over here and stop playing with the skirts," our coach yelled for us to break the tension. Mark and I didn't care about the joke that the coach had made because we knew that jokes like that come with the territory.
       We made our way over to the huddle. Mark was, of course, trying out for quarterback of the team. He had been the quarterback in middle school so there was little doubt he would get the position. I on the other hand was looking to be a wide receiver. I had to make my mark in tryouts. No one had ever seen me play. I needed to impress coach and everyone else that I deserved to be on the team.
       Mark called out the play before we broke the huddle and rushed to the line of scrimmage. The play we were running required me to run a slant pattern.
       I got into my stance as I waited for Mark to signal for us to begin the play. I was so focused on running the best route I could that I didn't notice that Mark was hinting over the play to over to Ray Jenkins who was on defense playing middle linebacker.
      "Down. Red 22 Zip. Red 22 Zip. Set. Hike," Mark yells through his mouthpiece. I sprint off. I reach five yards from the line of scrimmage before I darted in a diagonal route towards the middle of the field. I spot Mark release the ball from his hand as he was looking me right in the eyes. I reach to catch the ball but it sails way over my head. My arms in the air exposed me to the point where I couldn't protect my body. That's when I learned my first lesson as a wide receiver on the very first play of tryouts. Ray runs right through me. It felt as if ever rib cracked in my chest. All of the air in my body fled as it wasn't even to scared to be around Ray, at the moment.
       During my time on the ground I could hear the coach chewing Mark out for such a piss poor pass. Coach's words not mine. Finally, the air returns to my body even though the pain echoed around for a while. I, finally, rise to my feet.
      "Shake it off ,Jones." Coach yells at me. I do my best but I never expected to get hit that hard on the first play of tryouts.
       For most of the practice every time the ball was thrown my way the ball always seemed to be in the right place where I could get leveled by a defender. It was a helluva a day.
       By the time, I reached the locker room my body was aching and bruised as if I got ran over by a bus. There was some part of me that enjoyed it because I was able to make it through the first tryout and I believe I proved my toughness could take a hit. I proved that even when things were literally hard I didn't give up.
       I headed for the showers to wash away the blood, swear, and tears from the days tryout. I wasn't quite at the point though, where I was comfortable taking a shower with the team. So, I waited for the last player to exit before I went in. I quickly washed everything and wrap a towel around me as I headed out to my locker to get dressed.
       I made my way back to my locker where Mark was waiting for me. "Look I'm sorry about all those bad passes. I don't know what was going on out there. I had an off day," he says as he holds out his hand as if he wanted a truce. I can see in his face that he's just trying to play me. I wasn't dumb. I know the type of person Mark was. Part of me wanted to really believe him, but I knew I couldn't. After everything we had been through to really thing we could forgive and bond over just one practice seemed like a ridiculous idea to me.
       "Maybe, if you weren't too busy trying become part of the cheer squad you would've been able to throw the football right. It looked like you were practicing on how to throw pompoms." I disregarded his gesture as I fired back before he could assault me with his words like he had so many times in the past. I would be lying if I said the insult didn't feel awesome. In fact, it felt like the greatest feeling ever, at the time. The entire locker room broke out in laughter. It felt as if the team was coming to my side, for once. I even heard Ray, Alex, and Owen laughing with everyone else at Mark.
       Mark, of course, didn't like the embarrassment one bit. He never knew how it felt to be humiliated like he made me feel all those times. Well, now he knew and he didn't like the feeling.
       Suddenly, out of the blue with no warning- but not surprising-, Mark grabbed the back of my head before he slammed it into my locker. Just like that PPV 67 Mark Stone V.S. Bailey Jones was live and in action. This wasn't much of a fight, though. This time was definitely worse than all the other times I got my ass beat. I would've rather got my ass beat, again.
       I didn't even have a chance to stop what happened next. Before I had the chance to defend myself; or before I had the chance to throw a punch of my own Mark ripped off my towel.
       I remember it happening in slow motion as I tried catch the towel; and when I failed at that I tried to cover myself before anyone seen. It was too late, though. Everyone that was just moments ago laughing at Mark was now laughing at me.
      "Oh my. Is there anything even there. No wonder why your parents named you after a girl," Mark fired back.
       This time I didn't fight back like I normally did. I quickly got dressed and sprinted for the exit. I fell over one of the benches as I try to quickly leave the scene. The entire locker room laughed even more.
       I, finally, made it outside to my vehicle. I lock myself in my car right away. I didn't shed a tear when I learned of my father's passing. I didn't shed a tear when I found out the news about my mother because I needed to be strong for her. In this moment, though, I had enough of the torture that life was throwing my way. I made sure no one was looking as I began to cry for the first time. I knew I cried before; but I can't remember when.
       The feeling hurt so bad. It was as if a thousand knives were being stabbed into my heart. My stomach was tied in a million knots. Needless to say, I didn't returned to the football team the next day nor did I ever, again.