The Bridge from You to Me

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It’s benny and me, tossing the football around in my front yard, like we’ve done at least a thousand times. But this is the first time we’ve done it before the first day of practice our senior year.

This is our last chance.

Our last chance to bring home a high school championship.

I look at my best friend standing across from me, sweat glistening on his muscular black arms, and I know for him, we have to win. Taking state may be the only chance he has at catching a scout’s eye.

It’s been a lot easier for me. How can he not hate me for that?

“You’re so good, you don’t even need to go to practice, do you?” Benny jokes as the football spins toward me. “I bet you just show up so Coach will make the rest of us work harder.”

It’s like he can read my mind. Maybe that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends for what feels like forever.

“You know if there was any way I could skip out on two-a-days, I definitely would,” I say as I take a couple of steps to make the catch.

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