Final Breath Ch. 02

"Thank you," I said, and meant it. My Mom and Dad annoyed me sometimes, as I imagine all parents do to their kids, but I knew I was one of the lucky ones who had parents who were both loving and pretty cool.

My parents shared a look before Mom went on. "You know, when you and Erin were growing up, we thought for sure you'd end up where you are now, falling in love and being a couple. Of course, I don't think anyone could have imagined it happening the way it did, with all that she and her poor mother went through. I guess what I'm trying to say, Garrett, is that we're so proud of you for being friends with her since they moved back. Even with this... what does she call it again?"

"Goth?"

"Right, yes... even with her goth... persona," and Mom shook her head, clearly still confused why 'a nice young girl' like Erin would adopt such a lifestyle. Still, in all that time I never heard my parents condemn her or say anything negative about her for this decision, and that made me very happy.

"Anyway," Mom went on, "like I said, we're proud of you, and now that you and Erin are together as a couple, we support that too and we're very happy for you both."

"Thank you, Mom and Dad. I'm glad you're OK with this; it's one less thing for Erin and me to worry about. Not to be rude, but if you didn't approve of us being together, we'd have said to hell with it and kept seeing each other anyway."

"I know. I can tell by how you two talk to each other, and by the way you both look at each other, that you're both really in love. And we wouldn't dream of standing in your way. She's always been a good kid. We were worried when she and her mother moved back and she looked like she did, but she opened our eyes and helped remove our prejudices. Underneath it all she's still the same sweet girl she's always been." Mom looked at Dad for support and he nodded in agreement.

"We like Erin a lot," Mom said. "She needs someone like you, Gare. Someone who sees past the outward appearance and appreciates her for the person she really is. She and her other goth friends don't have nearly enough of that, you know. Alice is always saying how difficult it is for her at school."

"Really?" I asked. "I didn't think she knew, and I know Erin doesn't say much to her about it."

"No, Erin doesn't say much about it to her mother," my Mom replied, "but you know what? A mother knows. A mother always knows her child. And I know you're a good young man, Garrett, and you'll do right by Erin, and... oh, my baby..."

Mom always became emotional easily; Dad and I would often joke that she would cry at the drop of a hat, and while she always protested when we said it she knew just as well as we did it was true. Tonight was no exception. She had tears rolling down her face but she was smiling at the same time, beaming with pride for me. Dad and I stood up and gave her a big hug. We were a close family, and moments like this just made our relationship even more special.

"Why don't you go and talk to Erin's mother," my Mom said, wiping her eyes dry. "I think she has something she wants to say to you."

As it turned out, I simply traded rooms with Erin. We smiled at each other as we passed by. I took a seat across from her mother. She was staring off in the distance with a wistful look on her face.

"Still hard for me to believe Erin's old enough to be sexually active," she said, probably to me, but possibly also to no one in particular. I wasn't sure how to respond, so I didn't.

Alice took one of my hands and folded it into hers. "But since my daughter is, and because she's chosen to share herself with someone that way, then I'm glad it's you," she said to me as she looked me right in the eye. "You're a fine young man, Garrett, and the only one I can think of who is deserving of the precious gift she gave to you. My Erin has always thought you were someone special. I don't know what she would be like if you had never been part of her life."

I shuddered a little at the intensity of her praise. It was nice to hear, it was just a lot to take in all at once. "Thank you," I quietly replied. "She's very special to me, too. Always has been."

"Promise me one thing, Garrett. Can you do that for me?"

"What's that?"

I stood up at her request and she pulled me into a powerful embrace. "Take care of my baby. Please. Erin... she's all I have left..."

I felt her tears drip on to my shirt. My stomach tied itself up tight in knots. While I appreciated the support my parents and Erin's mother were giving us, they were also unwittingly adding pressure on an already highly charged situation. It was asking a lot for two eighteen-year-olds to handle. I just hoped I didn't let anybody down.

To the relief of Erin and I, there was no further drama that evening. Erin and I kissed briefly yet sweetly before she and her mother said their goodbyes and went home. I turned in to bed early, totally drained from everything that had happened over the last two days. Even so, without the warmth of Erin at my side, without her there to talk and whisper sweet nothings to, without her body available to me to caress, to hold close to mine, it was a long time before I fell asleep.

Friday, November 2nd, 7:57am

I was back at school, standing in front of my locker, dressed according to the code laid down by Coach on game days; a crisp, clean white dress shirt, black dress pants, dress shoes and a royal blue tie, emblematic of our school colours. The butterflies were already flying in formation in my stomach, but having played big-time high school football for some years now I was used to this sensation. It was all a part of the game day rituals with which I was so familiar.

I slammed the locker door with a bang and, sure enough, Erin was there. Wearing a deep violet blouse which matched her eyeliner, nail polish and lipstick, a short plaid skirt with purple inlaid with the black and white pattern, sheer black stockings and short, high-heeled black boots, she looked like the gothic version of a Lolita-type schoolgirl. I was awestruck by the vision before me, and I was pretty sure I'd soon have a bulge in my pants that would show my appreciation.

"Wow, Erin," I said in quiet admiration. "You look incredible."

She moved in front of me and ran her hand up and down my tie. "Thank you, Gare. You look pretty great yourself. You're so handsome and sexy all dressed up."

"Thanks." After a moment's hesitation, I decided I really needed my curiosity satisfied. "Erin, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?" Erin took a step back and asked innocently.

"Don't play coy with me little girl!" I replied playfully. "How do you manage to show up at my locker all the time without me hearing you?"

She giggled and said in a sing-song voice, "I'll never tell!"

I laughed out loud, even though she wouldn't answer my question. Maybe one day.

"Come here, you," I told her. She did, and we kissed.

"Garrett?"

"Yeah?"

"I have something for you. I forgot to give it to you yesterday." Erin fished through her backpack until she found what she was looking for. She handed me a silver-coloured necklace that looked like small chain links hooked together, with a familiar design attached to the bottom of one link.

"This is called an ankh, right?"

"That's right, Gare. Look." Erin directed my attention to the pale skin of her neck and showed me the necklace she was sporting. It also featured an ankh, and it had the exact same pattern and design as the one she gave me.

"An ankh is a symbol of life," she explained, "so us having the same style of ankh is a sign of our new life together."

I was touched by her gift and proudly put the necklace on. Erin fingered it and smiled. "Thank you, I'll wear it always," I said. "I'm sorry I didn't get you anything."

"That's OK," she answered. "You've already given me so much."

"Even so, I need to make it up to you, and I will."

"I know."

She tilted her head upwards and I leaned down to kiss her tenderly. We held the kiss for a long time, so long that I forgot where I was. At least, until I heard a low voice rumble from behind me.

"Man, you two gotta get a room!"

Erin and I were momentarily startled, but when turned our heads and saw a grinning Jamie and Cindy, both of them standing close to each other and holding hands, we let out a nervous laugh of relief. Jamie had a well-developed fashion sense, much better than the average high school senior, and he looked typically sharp in his shirt, tie and dress pants ensemble. Cindy looked demure yet very pretty in a white blouse and blue knee-length skirt, which is what the female members of the cheerleader squad wore on game days.

I greeted Jamie with our customary secret handshake and asked if he was ready for tonight's big game.

"Gare, I was born ready!" he exclaimed.

Erin and Cindy stood to the side of us. Erin had a neutral expression on her face but Cindy's head was bowed and she looked guilty.

"I'm sorry, Erin," Cindy said quietly. "I used to think the other cheerleaders were cool, but I feel terrible that they make fun of you and your friends and treat you so badly, and I never did anything to stop them. I hope you can forgive me, but if you don't then I understand."

Erin smiled back at Cindy. "It's OK, Cindy, I do forgive you," she said. "I know you never did any of that stuff directly. And with Garrett's help I've gotten to know his friends. Jamie's a great guy and if he likes you then you must be a good person, too."

"Thank you," Cindy replied. "I hope we can become friends."

"I'd like that," Erin said.

"Awww, it's so beautiful!" Jamie said jokingly, and I pretended to cry right along with him. This earned both of us dirty looks and rabbit punches on the shoulder from our girlfriends. All was soon forgiven as I kissed Erin and Jamie kissed Cindy, and we walked together to hang out in the cafetorium before the first bell rang.

We met up with Brandon, Torrey and Ricky on the way, and no one protested when Erin subtly steered us to the table where all her friends -- Scarlett, Mel, Al, Kory, Kris and Jackson -- were already gathered. At first, my buddies and I were talking about our upcoming game tonight with Cindy quietly listening to us, while Erin and her friends talked about something else.

Then something interesting happened. Al was messing around with his smart phone and suddenly burst out in laughter. Ricky was sitting next to Al and asked his fellow Latino (their shared racial heritage was about the only thing that, on the surface, they had in common) what was up. Al showed him the viral video he was watching and Ricky laughed out loud. In turn everyone saw the video, either through borrowing Al's phone or checking their own, and we all joined in the laughter. Soon we were all engaged in a 'serious' discussion about the video, breaking it down piece by piece, debating whether it was real or staged, and how people we knew would react if they were in a similar scenario.

This might not seem like a big deal. But in our school, it was. It was a very clique-y place. And I used to contribute to that problem, until soon after I met Erin again and became closer with her friends, when I realized how stupid and petty this kind of behaviour was in the first place.

So it was obvious to me that seeing two seemingly disparate groups of kids all laughing and talking animatedly together, much less just sitting at the same table, was a strange sight to everyone else sitting at the other tables. I couldn't help but smile at some of the reactions I was seeing out of the corners of my eyes from some of my fellow students as I tried to keep up with the conversation. Disbelief, curiosity, amusement... they were all on display.

Unfortunately, it seems that good moments like this can never last. I soon noticed a contingent of cheerleaders, led by an angry-looking Vanessa, making a beeline towards our table. The first target of her wrath was Cindy.

"Well, Cindy," Vanessa said in a short, clipped tone, "you never told me your dream in life was to join the freak show!"

"Vanessa, stop it! I'm here with Jamie," Cindy replied firmly, making the point by kissing Jamie on the cheek. "I'm getting to know him and his friends, and if you don't like it that's too bad."

"Oh, no! Hell no!" came the shrill voice of Stacie. "You are so not going out with my man!"

Jamie sighed loudly. Stacie had designs on him for a long time but he wanted nothing to do with her brand of crazy. "Dammit, Stace, how many times do I have to tell you?! I'm not your man..."

Cindy interrupted him with what, apparently, for her was a very uncharacteristic outburst. "Back off, bitch!" she growled at Stacie.

This led to an intense shouting match between Cindy and Stacie, with Jamie stuck very uncomfortably in the middle. Smirking with satisfaction, Vanessa turned her attention to Erin in an attempt to unleash more chaos.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you, freak!" she yelled; the taunting, angry look on her face turned her usually attractive physical features truly ugly. "I'll be the first in line laughing in your face when Garrett gets tired of you and dumps you for a real woman!"

"Then you'll be waiting a long time, Vanessa," I said as calmly as I could before Erin could react with anger of her own. "I won't ever get tired of Erin. I love her."

I said my piece with total conviction, and I gave Erin a kiss for added emphasis. I turned our backs to Vanessa and hoped she would take the none-too-subtle hint.

No such luck.

She grabbed my shoulder and whirled me around. "I don't know what's happened to you, Garrett, but you've changed. You used to be cool, now you'd rather be a loser..."

"Shut up, bitch!" Erin yelled at Vanessa. "Don't talk to my boyfriend!"

"What are you gonna do about it, bitch?!" Vanessa disdainfully shot back.

It looked like Erin was about to pounce from her seat and go for Vanessa's jugular. The sound of someone clearing his throat behind me distracted her but the angry look on her face remained. I turned and stood up to come face-to-face with a smirking Billy Jordan.

"Ooh, Garrett, your little girl looks mad. Maybe you should control her." The sarcasm dripped from Billy's voice.

"Maybe Erin wouldn't have to get so mad if your girlfriend didn't act like a total and complete bitch," I replied.

"That's harsh, friend." The grin on Billy's face was wolfish. He punctuated it with a hard slap to my injured ribcage. I sucked in my breath but otherwise did all I could to not wince or show any pain or weakness; there was no way in hell I'd give him that kind of satisfaction. The bastard knew it hurt though, damn him.

"Billy, you wouldn't want me to beat the hell out of you with half the school watching, now, would you?" I didn't want to get in a situation where I had to fight him, but I had to stand up for myself.

He just smiled, and suddenly I noticed some of his friends gathering around him. Then I heard the sound of chairs and tables shuffling, and soon felt the presence of my friends having my back. My mind flashed back to last year's school production of West Side Story that Ricky got me to attend because he had what he called a starring role, which I later found to be at best a liberal interpretation of the truth. In any event I thought we might end up conducting our own real-life rumble scene.

That is, until we saw the tall and imposing figure of Mr. Harvey, our school's principal, striding in the cafetorium. He had a reputation as fair and friendly while also capable of being a strong disciplinarian, and his reputation clearly preceded him as students stepped aside to make room for him, until he was standing right in front of us.

"Hello, Billy. Hello, Garrett. Is there a problem, gentlemen?" Mr. Harvey asked.

"No sir," we replied in unison.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed in his loud booming voice. "Glad to hear it! I trust it will remain that way. Oh, and best of luck in your big game tonight, gentlemen."

Mr. Harvey left without another word, just as the first bell rang to signal five minutes until the start of the day's classes. With that, the situation was defused. At least for now.

Quietly, everyone started to scatter towards their classrooms. I said goodbye to all my friends and walked Erin towards her classroom. I was wishing more than ever that we shared even one class together during the day, but no such luck. But I did still have just enough time to ask her something.

"Erin?"

"Yes, Gare?"

"I won't be able to see you after school because of the game tonight. I know you don't really like sports much, but I'd like it a lot if you'd come and watch."

"OK. For you, I will."

"Thank you. If none of your friends want to go, I'll understand. You can sit with my parents if you want, so you're not by yourself. They can pick you up on their way."

"OK. Be careful tonight."

"I'll try," I said, though I wasn't sure if I could, knowing how I play and how important this game was to myself and a lot of other people.

"I love you, Gare."

"Love you too, Erin."

We kissed, and I watched Erin step into her classroom, turn and give me a little wave goodbye, which I returned with a smile. I broke into a jog and reached my first classroom just before the second bell rang.

Friday, November 2nd, 6:05pm

"Five-yard curls, followed by ten-yard outs. Ready... and hut!"

Our starting quarterback, Josh Brunswick, gave me and the other skill-position players the usual pre-game warm-up instructions. I started the drill standing third in line, behind Torrey and Jamie, ahead of Brandon and Ricky, impatiently waiting my turn.

It was still nearly a full hour before kickoff. Sixty long, drawn-out minutes before we could finally get down to business. We had all sat through interminably lengthy classes where we were surely too distracted to learn a damn thing, ate a pre-game meal conducted mostly in silence, trying to will our nervous stomachs not to return our food from whence it came, and tried to concentrate as our coaches went over last minute instructions from a game plan that we all knew... or, at least, should have known... like the backs of our hands.

By this time I was just too antsy and keyed up from all the waiting, all the anticipation, all the wishes of good luck and stuff said that wasn't meant to put pressure on but you totally knew it would anyway... I had enough of all that shit. I just wanted to play. Wanted nothing more than to get out on the field, play as well as I knew I could, and whip Central Tech's ass yet again.

We all started to loosen up and get more animated when we got to the locker room and started putting our equipment on. I had to make a quick detour to the trainer's table for an extra tape job and flak jacket fitting to better protect my bruised ribs. Billy had the perfect viewpoint to watch this from his spot in the room; he said nothing but the cocky asshole grin he wore did all the talking for him.

I did feel the extra padding impede my movement slightly during the course of the drills, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. In truth I wasn't thinking about that very much. I used this time to get into that mystical "zone" that athletes talk about all the time; a mental place where I would feel ready to perform at my best. I stretched and warmed up, got used to the feel of the grass field, saw the ball cutting through the sky and felt it land solidly in my hands each time.

We finished our drills. Jamie then ran into the end zone and, when he got there, motioned for us to follow. This was our own pre-game ritual; every other group of players, from the offensive line to the different defensive units, had their own method of pumping each other up for the game, and Jamie, Josh, Brandon, Torrey, Ricky and I were no different.