One of the Guys – A Screened Word Story

It all began during my first week of seventh grade.

For most of my life, I had grown up with some of my best friends, all of whom, I might add, were girls. Their names were Adrianna, Joanne, and Rosie. My parents knew them very well, too, since they were the daughters of our neighbors. What we had done as we all grew up together, I will never deny that it was truly something special, and I would have never stopped thinking fondly of them.

However, I began to feel much too comfortable with them. No matter where I turned, I always saw guys who were respected because they were one of the guys. And where was I? Ten years have come and gone, and yet I was the only guy in the school who had no known record of hanging out with guys who were looked up to because of what they have accomplished.

They were athletes. They made the sports team. They accomplished several school records. Surely, I could’ve gotten in on the action, too.

On my next day in school, I decided to track down Fred, a good friend and classmate of mine, and see whether he knew any of the guys that were hanging out and doing their thing throughout school. I had to have snuck in with them if I was to get to know them more.

“Fred?”

“Oh, hey, Henry! What’s up?”

“You know those guys we’ve seen wandering through the school halls together? And out in the football field from time to time?”

“Oh, you know I have. They’ve been practically school superstars.”

“Do you know anything about where they’d sit during lunchtime?”

“Dude, these guys are almost inseparable. If you can track down the tall guy with the blond hair, you should have no trouble seeking the rest of them out, either.”

Later at lunchtime, I kept my eyes peeled. And sure enough, I caught them sitting together in the school cafeteria. And Fred was right. The guy with the blonde hair was indeed the tallest of them.

I sat down at lunchtime with them, and the chance to get acquainted with some truly talented men around was truly something for someone like me to achieve. The more I sat next to them during lunch hours in the cafeteria, the more they started to look at me for who I was, who I aspired to be…no, what I aspired to be.

As soon as I glided along within their comfort zone, that's when I knew that I did have what it took to be one of the guys after all. I just never had the right chance to show off my skills or show other people what I could’ve been capable of.

I remember playing basketball with my friends when I was very little, and that seemed to be the proper place for me to start. So, what better place to start than to clue them in on what I’d mastered in terms of sports?

To my surprise, the tall blonde guy, Jackson, challenged me to a basketball game. I gladly accepted that challenge.

I did not anticipate the extra few rounds of dribbles or having to maneuver my arms to work my way past Jackson’s defenses, but my skills with basketball only grew as I pushed my limits forth with him as my worthy opponent. The longer I dribbled and shot hoops with him, the more confident I became in what I knew I could’ve achieved within sports, just like these guys.

Soon enough, one of his buddies, Bailey, was impressed by what could’ve achieved in basketball. So, he decided to challenge me next and have me partake in a football game with him out in the school field. I was stunned. I went from being an outcast to suddenly being invited by the coolest guys in school to partake with them in what they always dd best. I felt like I had scored the jackpot in that moment!

The only part about it that felt weird was, Bailey and his friends decided to have it where I could have played football with him in the middle of the rain. Yet, I didn't mind. Rather, I became intrigued.

Every time I saw the guys playing football under a sunny day, I always wondered whether they would have had sunscreen, water, or anything like that to keep them fresh and hydrated during such games. Here? I didn't have to worry about any of that and just kept my focus on the game.

Just like with Jackson, I had to work my arms, especially as I wrapped them around Bailey as he tackled me in the middle of the field. Parts of the game like that were a little rough, but this was football. What more did I expect?

Later on, after a few rounds of football tackling, Bailey then invited me to run to him and kick the football. And judging from what I noticed on his face behind the face mask of his helmet, he was counting on me to make the shot.

So, with my inner drive burning inside of me, I felt my determination to lunge ahead and use all my foot power to kick the ball to the skies. Then, I ran forward as fast as my feet could have carried me, and as I got close to the ball, I felt my foot slamming hard onto the ball and sent it flying to the goal posts.

Or so I was told.

I did not see exactly where the ball landed because after my foot kicked on the ball, my other foot was sliding throughout the wet grassy field, and I found myself landing flat on my back on the field. I was a little dizzy from the fall and felt nothing outside of the cold, wet droplets of rain on my face and the soggy grass on my back and legs. But the only thing that was on my mind was how I was able to kick that ball as hard as my feet could have allowed me and sent it flying wherever it landed.

I’m sure it would have been high enough for the guys to see what potential I had to be one of them.

Speaking of which, they came up to me one day and admitted to me that they were proud what I had accomplished with them. “To celebrate,” Jackson said, “there is one task, if you will, for you to pull off with us so we can see whether you’re one of us.”

They told me of an exclusive store out in town where the best drinks you could ever have asked for was held. They told me it was called Key Draft, and that what they were after would’ve blown the other drinks out of the water.

I thought that's what they were telling me about anyway, but as they kept on going, it sounded like such a big deal, too big a deal for me to turn down such a challenge. If I did not take this chance, I would not have had a chance ever again to prove myself as someone worthy of being one of the guys.

I remembered walking through at the end of the parking lot in front of Key Draft. As I had suspected, it was the alcohol store that I had only seen in passing whenever my parents took me places. And here I was, finally about to set foot inside that store. As soon as I was halfway through the wide-open parking lot, I noticed Jackson, Bailey, and the other guy – I should’ve asked him for his name – pooching out from behind the building and silently urged me to go forth and do my best. After taking a few deep breaths and ignoring the burning heat of sun beating down upon my face, I felt myself walking across the rest of the parking lot, into the shade, and through the door.

What I had seen was probably the most I had ever seen in alcoholic beverages on display, left and right. I never would’ve guessed that liquor stores would have had their beverages lined up and stuffed to the brim front and back. What the boys told me to look for was the biggest drink that they had, specifically with a red maple leaf on its packaging. No other drink in that store would’ve had that symbol except for this one. So, I looked around, and after investigating every which corner of the store, one such drink that caught my attention was a giant brown bottle. I remember it saying, ‘Fresh Canadian Bourbon.’ I was more drawn to it because of its unusual shape. But I didn’t recall seeing any other alcoholic beverage in the store that had the big red Maple leaf symbol, either.

This must have been the one they were seeking. I had no idea what they would have wanted with this bottle unless it was to drink out of, which I hoped wasn't true. But I was going to do what it took to be one of them, anyway. So, once I grabbed the bottle, I stepped up to the cashier and presented the bottle to him, as I noticed a disconcerted look on his face.

“What do you think you're doing with this bottle, kid?” He asked.

“I’m ready when you are, sir,” I responded.

“Kid, this drink is definitely not for children your age.”

“Actually, sir,” I said, “this is not for me. I meant to snag this for my parents.”

“Sure. I've heard this story before,” he retorted. “A kid comes in buying something for their parents, drinks, cigarettes, whatever, but then it turns out they got them for themselves. Face it, kid, I’ve heard that a dozen times before.”

“Well, the truth is, sir,” I said, “my father would have brought this back home with him, but he has a broken leg back home and will have to go to the doctor tomorrow at his earliest convenience. He wanted to see if I could’ve grabbed him this bottle. That way, he could have one last swig before he goes in. Could I go ahead and still purchase this for him? He even gave me his ID so I can prove it.”

After showing it to him, it turned out that was the evidence he needed.

“Well, it is very kind of you to do this for your father. It will be $56.17, whenever you’re ready.”

I went ahead and used my father's credit card, and he left me the receipt.

Then, feeling a slight rejuvenation inside of me, I walked away from the cashier. Once I felt my knuckles press against the handle of the door and pushed my way outside, I saw nothing beyond me outside but some passerby cars and a couple of passersby walking around the parking lot. All I knew was that I finally managed to get what my friends wanted me to grab for them. I had no idea what they were going to do with it, but what mattered back then was that I got it.

So, I decided to make a run for it before anyone saw me. I ran as fast as I my legs could have carried me. As I ran closer to the building, I noticed a couple of the guys peeking out from behind the building towards me, like they were expecting me.

Little did I know that I heard a car beside me driving at full speed, which then left me feeling a large, hard thump on my arm and side.

My body hurtled away from the car and out onto the ground. I felt nothing as I flipped over a few times, and when I stopped, I could have barely moved. What I felt surging all across my body was sharp, massive, and the worst I had even felt in my life. I tried to contain it, but with no such luck. All I remembered hearing around me were pedestrians who walked up to me and others who ran up to check up on me. As for what I saw in front of me, the bottle that I bought had surprisingly remained unbroken, except for a few dents in the glass and a small leak I noticed on the side as the bourbon trickled onto the pavement.

What I had seen next cut me even deeper than the bruises the incoming car left all over me. Jackson, Bailey, and the other guy huddled beside me and grabbed the whiskey bottle as they looked like they were about to scurry away. I somehow felt an encroaching sense of sadness as I drifted away until I only saw three pairs of feet scrambling away as they ran with the bottle they picked up. I heard nothing but screams and yells around me, but I couldn't have made them out as I drifted off into the blackness.

I didn’t know how long I was out. When I finally came to, before I opened my eyes, I felt something firm on my shoulder. That sensitive touch was what might have woken me up. As I opened my eyes, I was dumbfounded by what I had seen around me. And who I saw around me, too. My parents were there sitting right beside me as I laid in the bed, and the hand that was placed on my shoulder was from Rosie. Judging from the looks of the general whiteness around me, I must have been resting in the hospital.

“Henry, are you all right?" She said to me. I felt the aggravating pain across my body all over again. So awake as I became, I did the best I could have to sit up a little bit without experiencing what I feared to have felt again .

“Yes. I think so.”

“We heard some of the news, and we were so worried about you.” Turned out Rosie was not lying. Adrianna and Joanne were all sitting behind her and watching me as I carefully tried to sit myself up.

“Listen. We also heard about your run-ins with the school jocks. You may think you're a little lost, but trust us. You will always have a place with us,” Joanne said.

“Thanks”, I remembered saying to them. I glanced toward my parents, who looked even more pale than my best friends. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

“We’re just more thankful that you’re okay,” my father said. “Also, your friend, Fred, wanted me to tell you that he wishes you a full, speedy recovery.”

Then, just as I was about to say something more to my parents, I heard some noises coming from outside the halls. They got louder as they came closer, and I noticed the reason for these footsteps barging in through the hospital door.  But I was shocked to see that this was the guy, the one guy whose name I did not remember, who was among the athletes.

When I wasn’t in pain, I felt a glimpse of pride when he came along. Maybe my accomplishments did something right for him and his buddies.

Maybe?

He was breathing in and out as hardly as he could have. His exhaustion from the running must have gotten to him.

“Henry,” he said in between gasps, “I want to tell you that I'm sorry.”

“For what?” I asked. I should have spoken up sooner, but I didn't.

“Can you forgive me?”

“What is this about? What's going on?” I asked.

“Mr. and Mrs. Levington, I want to apologize for getting Henry mixed into our shenanigans. It was Jackson's idea for us to push Henry into snagging him and Bailey a bottle of that bourbon. Before you say anything else, I already called 911. I'm pretty confident that Jackson and Bailey won't be bothering any of us anytime soon.”

“Well, you still ought to be ashamed of yourself for not doing anything sooner, young man,” my father said.

“Dad”, I said to him. I had to stop it before it got worse. “Please. It's okay. He at least did what he had to do.” Next, I turned my head toward the other guy. “I appreciate you telling me about what happened. I never would have guessed that those guys who I thought were thee real deal were real chumps.”

“As soon as they became professional athletes in the school, I started to sense that in them, too. I also thought that joining them would have been worth it, but I'd rather be one of the good guys than one of these guys.”

“I appreciate that. Uh, you are…?”

“You can call me Ken, Henry.”

“Thank you, Ken,” I said back to him. “I guess it’s safe to say that we’re both among the good guys.”

“The good people, rather,” I heard Joanne say. “As much as we want to talk more about that, though, we better let you get some shut-eye.”

“Okay,” I said, as they all walked down the door one by one.

“We will be talking more about this too, Henry,” I heard my mother say. That was enough for me.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said to her. As they all stepped outside, I noticed my mom's hand on the knob of the door as she quietly and gently closed it behind her. As I watched her slowly close the door, I felt my eyelids drooping on me and drifted back to sleep.