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He nodded, “Got it, man. Thanks.”
I grabbed my own water, and then lowered it before I got a drink when I heard one of the freshmen talking. And a red haze settled over my eyes.
I slammed it down and then stormed over there, “Hey motherfucker, you want to repeat that shit to my face.”
He looked wide-eyed then.
“I don’t know what you're talking about,” he stammered.
“Your nothing but a punk ass little bitch, get your ass on that fucking field,” I snarled.
“I…” he stammered.
I got in his face then, “When one of the captains tells you to get out on that field, you fucking do it.”
“I’m not on the line.” As if that was going to save his ass.
“Do I look like I give a fuck? Get out there, get in position. Now, boy. Move.”
He moved then, but slow as fuck.
And as soon as the whistle blew, I fucking moved, and had the little bitch on his ass in under five fucking seconds.
Seeing his head bounce off the ground was rewarding.
I moved and stood over him and snarled, “If I ever hear you call Marcus the n-word again, I’ll make sure they have to carry your body out of here in a fucking body bag. Do I make myself fucking clear?”
He nodded.
“What did he say?” Coach asked.
I looked at Marcus, “He’s a racist little bitch.”
Marcus looked at the boy then at me and nodded.
I was in the showers in the locker room, my back to the room, letting the hot water run over my body.
“I… I’m sorry.” I heard someone say.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the little bitch.
“It’s not me you owe an apology to. But I will say this, someone says shit about you, if you treat Marcus with respect he’ll do the same for you. And he won't hesitate to lay that person out.”
He nodded.
As I was walking out, I heard that boy again, but I looked to see he was talking to Marcus, “I’m sorry. Where I’m from, it’s a common word. I shouldn’t have used it.”
Marcus growled then and towered over the kid, “Don’t do it again.”
The boy nodded so fast I thought his head was going to bobble off.
I waited for Marcus, and together we headed out to my truck and then we headed home.
***
After I sprayed on some cologne, I checked myself in our hall mirror and nodded. Tonight, we were going for pizza and hitting up an arcade, so I had on my boots, jeans with a few well-worn holes in them, a fitted Metallica shirt, and a black ball cap on.
Heading down the stairs, I was about twenty feet from the door when Marcus called out, “Hey man, where you going?”
