Ficlets

Gail or Cerri? For Whom the Bell Tolls

At 6:15 PM, I was in the crowded, noisy gym locker room. Tonight was our first football game of the season, and we were donning our uniforms.

Van hustled in, late as usual. “Matt, I talked to Gail again.”

“Drop it,” I said

Van pulled on his socks. “Maybe you could ask her to Homecoming next month.”

I laughed, “You kiddin’ me? Besides I already asked Cerri.”

“Oh, man, she’s hot, but dumber than a bag of marbles. Give Gail a call.”

I pulled my jumper down over my shoulder pads. “Van, what is it between you and Gail? If you’re that into her you ask her out.”

Van was quiet for a few heartbeats, then said, “Maybe I will.”

The coach shouted. “All right guys, you have been trained….”

Saved by the coach, I thought, listening to the same speech he gives every game. I looked over at Van, seated on the bench, his hands between his knees, studying the floor.
I reached out and punched him, whispering, “Wake up buddy the coach is giving one of his ‘you guys are the best’ speeches.”

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