Men, Women & Children (2 page)

chapter

two

“J
esus Christ!” Danny Vance said. Chris Truby had just shown him a video on his phone depicting a transsexual with double-D breasts inserting her penis into the anus of a man who was wearing a hockey mask. Danny and Chris had been friends their entire lives, so Danny wasn’t surprised that Chris would have pornography on his phone, but the nature of this specific video was more than slightly off-putting to him. Danny was even more disturbed by the fact that Chris chose to show him this material during lunch, giving any of the five or six teachers who monitored this thirty-minute period each day an opportunity to catch a glimpse, assume Danny was just as complicit as Chris, and suspend them both, forcing Danny to miss at least one, possibly two games and effectively ruining his eighth-grade season as starting quarterback for the Goodrich Junior High Olympians before it even started.

“What is that?”

“It’s a tranny fucking some dude in the ass while he’s wearing a hockey mask. Hilarious, right?”

“Hilarious? I’d go with
horrible, gay, repulsive
, a bunch of other shit before I’d go with
hilarious
. And what are you doing whipping that shit out at lunch? You’re going to get us both in trouble.”

“Relax. No one saw it.”

Just as Chris put the phone back in his pocket, Brooke Benton sat down at their table and kissed Danny on the cheek. Brooke had blond hair, blue eyes, an athletic yet feminine build, and a bone structure that made her almost unanimously considered the most attractive girl at Goodrich Junior High. She was the squad leader of the Olympiannes, a junior high precursor to high school cheerleaders. She was also Danny’s girlfriend of over a year.

She said, “Hey, babe, what were you guys looking at?”

Danny said, “You do not want to see it. Trust me.”

Chris said, “You wanna see it?”

Brooke said, “What is it?”

Danny said, “Just leave it, babe. You seriously don’t want to see it.”

Chris said, “I can’t really describe it. You’ll have to see it for yourself.”

Danny said, “Don’t get caught.”

Chris handed her his phone under the table. Brooke turned the phone on and winced at what she saw. She handed the phone back and said, “Gross. Those are guys having sex with each other? Are you gay or something now?”

Chris said, “It’s not guys. It’s a tranny and a guy. And yeah, I’m gay. I love to suck dick and take dicks up my ass and drink cups of jizz.”

Brooke said, “You really have problems, Chris. You know that, right? You’re not normal.”

Chris said, “Whatever. I think it’s funny as shit. Just because you guys are pussies. Fuck off. I have to go do a make-up quiz for Mr. Donnelly. I’m out.” Chris left, walking behind Brooke’s back and giving Danny a silent fellatio pantomime show as he did. Danny was used to Chris’s overly sexual antics and offered no response.

Brooke said, “So are you getting excited for the first game?”

Danny said, “Yeah, are you?”

Brooke said, “Of course. I can’t wait to see you out there and get to cheer for you and everything. This year is going to be awesome. I really think we’re going to win district.”

Danny said, “I hope so.”

Brooke said, “Can you walk me home today?”

Danny said, “I don’t think so, babe. Coach Quinn is doing his start-of-the-season thing after school.”

Brooke said, “How long will it be? I can wait.”

Danny said, “I don’t know. Like half an hour maybe.”

Brooke said, “Cool. I’ll just hang out with Allison until you guys are finished. I can help her make banners for the game and stuff, anyway.”

Danny said, “Okay, cool. Oh, wait, I actually forgot. My mom wanted to know if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight.”

Brooke said, “Yeah, as long as my mom says it’s okay. I’ll text her after lunch.”

Danny said, “Cool. And I think my dad can pick us up after Coach Quinn’s thing, so we won’t have to walk.”

The rest of their conversation covered topics that ranged from schoolwork to movies and television shows. As Brooke entered into a detailed description of an episode of
The Soup
she had watched the previous night, Danny looked across the room at Tim Mooney, who rose from his seat, threw his trash away, and then wandered out of the lunchroom. Danny and Tim had been friends through grade school and even through the entirety of seventh grade. Danny knew that Tim would be one of the main reasons that the Goodrich Olympians stood a good chance to win district.

Tim left lunch ten minutes early, checked his e-mail on his phone very quickly to make sure his guild in
World of Warcraft
was still planning to raid Icecrown Citadel that night at the predetermined time, 7
P.M.
, and then headed to Coach Quinn’s office with a specific purpose. He didn’t want to be late for his American history class, but knew that a few minutes of tardiness would have no effect on his understanding of the day’s lesson. He had already read ahead the night before and done the workbook assignment he knew would be given as homework that night so he could join his guild in their raid without having to worry about getting schoolwork done after the raid ended at 11
P.M
.

School was easy for Tim. He found most of it trivial, but knew it was necessary to do well so that he could maintain a grade-point average that would place him in AP classes once he got to high school, which would, in turn, assure him admittance to a good college. Although, lately, Tim Mooney was finding it more and more difficult to maintain this attitude.

His parents had been separated for a little more than a year. Tim had always suspected infidelity on his mother’s part as the reason for their split, but neither of his parents ever discussed this with him. They each maintained that they just needed some time apart. When his mother, Lydia, first announced that she would be moving into her own apartment across town, Tim was surprised at how little impact it all seemed to have on his life. He stayed with his father so he could continue going to the same school, but he saw his mother frequently. Not that much had changed. Then, at the start of the summer before his eighth grade year, Tim’s mother and father were officially divorced. Tim understood that this time would be difficult. His family no longer existed. His parents had no hope of working things out or living in the same house again.

A week or so after the divorce, Tim’s mother made another announcement. She was moving to California to live with a man named Greg Cherry who was in marketing. Tim was again forced to choose which parent he would live with, but this time the decision carried more weight. In all likelihood, he would see little to none of the parent he wasn’t living with. Since he had already been living with his father, Kent, and had little interest in moving to a new school, he stayed where he was. His mother offered no objection. As a result of this decision, he hadn’t seen his mother since she’d left, nearly four months ago. Her contact with him became more and more infrequent with each passing week, reduced to a phone call every Saturday that she usually chose to end short due to how busy she claimed to be.

Over the summer, Tim found himself staying awake until three or four in the morning every night. He played video games,
World of Warcraft
more than any other, and watched television, interacting with his father less and less, growing increasingly uncomfortable around him as Kent became more passive-aggressive and cold in the absence of his wife. One night, Tim stumbled across a documentary called
Manufacturing Consent
. After viewing it, he found some writing online by its subject, Noam Chomsky, and as a result began to feel that there wasn’t really a point to anything, that free will was an illusion, and that the things most people invested time and energy in were systems of control designed by those who sought to manipulate the general population. He thought about this as he knocked on the door to Coach Quinn’s office, interrupting him as he ate a sandwich and watched
SportsCenter
.

Tim was the best middle linebacker Coach Quinn had seen in years. He was bigger than most kids his age, much quicker, and generally more athletic, just like his father had been. He was essentially a one-man defense, holding most teams to under ten points per game almost single-handedly.

With the season opener against the Park Panthers less than a week away, Coach Quinn was more than confident that he would have a winning season and potentially even win district, which would afford him opportunities to pursue a head-coaching job at one of the area high schools.

Coach Quinn said, “Tim, come in.”

Tim entered Coach Quinn’s office and sat down.

Coach Quinn said, “You’re looking outstanding in practice, Tim. You must be excited about the Park game coming up.”

Tim said, “Actually, Coach, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Coach Quinn could feel a cold sweat forming on the back of his neck. Tim Mooney was a key component in what he felt was the best chance he’d had in years to ascend beyond the junior high coaching ranks. He said, “What are you talking about, Tim?”

Tim said, “Coach, I don’t think I can play this year.”

Coach Quinn said, “Excuse me?”

Tim said, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m quitting the team, Coach. I feel like it’s what I have to do.”

Coach Quinn said, “Where is this coming from, Tim? This is something you should really think about. Is anything going wrong? Maybe something at home?”

Tim said, “Yeah, everything’s fine at home. I’ve thought about it a lot, actually. Sports just seem pointless.”

Coach Quinn said, “Well, they’re not pointless, Tim. They’re the best times of your life when you’re young—hell, your dad can tell you that. Are you really okay with throwing that away?”

Tim said, “I think so, yeah.”

Coach Quinn said, “Well, I obviously can’t make you play football, Tim, but I think you should seriously reconsider this decision. God gave you a gift, son. You don’t just throw God’s gifts away like that.”

Tim said, “I’ll think about it, Coach. But for now, I’m done for the season.”

Tim stood up and turned to leave. Coach Quinn watched him leave knowing that his best chance at the addition his wife wanted to their house was walking out of his office.

T
im left Coach Quinn’s office and continued to his American history class. He sat next to a girl named Brandy Beltmeyer. Tim had never had a girlfriend, but he thought that Brandy would make a good one. She was very plain-looking, not the kind of girl most guys would probably consider interesting. Tim liked the fact that she was understated. She didn’t get caught up in the same unimportant minutiae of being a teenage girl that all her peers seemed preoccupied with, and this made Tim curious about her. To Tim she seemed like the kind of girl who was probably extremely interesting to the people who took the time to get to know her.

Tim had been partnered with Brandy for a final English project at the end of their seventh-grade year, a book report presentation on
Huckleberry Finn
. They got along well and he liked the way her voice sounded when she said certain phrases that seemed unique to her and that she repeated often. “That is not even possibly real” was among his favorites.

Over the summer, Tim had sent Brandy a text message to see if she wanted to go to a movie with him, but she never responded. Unbeknownst to Tim, she would have been more than happy to see a movie with him but she never received the text message. In fact, she was disappointed that Tim never contacted her after their partnership, because she had developed a mild crush on him during the time they spent together and had fantasized that he would be the first boy to kiss her.

Tim’s text message, which read, “Want 2 go 2 a movie maybe?” was intercepted by Brandy’s mother, Patricia, who ran a local watch-group called PATI, which stood for Parents Against The Internet and was also an abbreviation for her own name, a combination she found to be clever. She formed the watch-group after seeing an episode of
Tyra
about a phenomenon called “sexting.” In addition to forcing her daughter to divulge every password to every one of her e-mail accounts, her Myspace account, and any other online membership, when Patricia gave Brandy her most recent phone, she installed software on it that allowed her to access that phone from her own. And when Patricia saw the text from Tim asking her daughter to go to a movie, she immediately decided that it was too soon for her daughter to start dating and deleted it. Tim interpreted Brandy’s lack of response as lack of interest and never made another attempt to gain her favor or attention. He still thought about her, however, and wondered if he had been too forward with his text message, or, more likely, whether Brandy simply found him unattractive.

Tanner Hodge, the Olympians’ tailback, walked past Tim on his way to his own seat. “Let’s kick some Panther ass,” he said, and offered Tim a fist bump, which Tim returned. Tanner had no idea that Tim had just quit the football team.

Tim opened his book to the section he had already read the night before and wondered what his mother was doing at that moment in California as Mrs. Rector began her lesson about the Boston Tea Party.

chapter

three

C
oach Quinn began every eighth-grade season by delivering a speech, on the week of their first regular season game, that was designed to motivate and excite his team. He had given this speech so many times that it was almost identical to each previous year’s speech, with some small variation in inflection or tone and possibly one or two words changed.

Coach Quinn had tried several times in the past few years to secure employment as a high school football coach in various school districts. He used to be comforted by the complacence he felt in his position as an eighth-grade coach, but that had given way to frustration in recent years, primarily fueled by his wife’s desire to live in a nicer house, drive a nicer car, and eventually even move to another city. He hoped this year would be his last at Goodrich Junior High School. But if he wanted to maximize his odds of employment elsewhere, he knew, a successful season was a must.

Some of the thirty-two eighth-grade football players had already begun to notice that Tim Mooney was not among them. Coach Quinn could hear their whispers asking about their star linebacker’s absence. If he wanted to have any hope of salvaging the season, he knew he would need to address any questions and concerns his players had immediately, rather than ignoring them and hoping that Tim would come back to the team. With that in mind, Coach Quinn decided to improvise his season opening speech for the first time in his career.

He said, “Guys, sometimes Jesus throws you a curve ball. This afternoon, he threw us one that broke about four feet. But Jesus isn’t trying to strike us out. Jesus would never do that. The reason he threw us a curve ball is because he wants us to swing at it. He wants us to hit a home run. That curve ball’s name is Tim Mooney.

“For some reasons that are beyond all of my faculties to understand, Tim Mooney isn’t playing this year. He came into my office this afternoon and told me he didn’t see a reason to play, that football wasn’t important. And I know you all probably think that’s a bad thing, but I’ve come to a conclusion this afternoon. It’s not a bad thing at all. A team is only as strong as its weakest link, and Tim was psychologically weak. He didn’t have what it takes mentally to stick it out and help this team win a district championship this year.

“So I don’t want to hear anything about Tim for the rest of the season. I’ve decided that Bill Francis is going to be our starting middle linebacker, and he’s gonna make us all forget about Tim Mooney. Isn’t that right, Bill?”

No player in the field house was more stunned than Bill Francis by the unfolding developments of that afternoon. He stammered slightly before responding, “Yes, sir.”

Coach Quinn said, “As I look around this room, I see the talent. I know you know how to win district this year. And, let me just say this: For some of you guys, this is it, your eighth-grade season. Some of you guys will go on to play high school ball and some of you won’t. So, for the ones who won’t, this is going to be your last shot to do something special, to play that season of football that you’ll remember for the rest of your life. Think about that in every game, in every play this year. Just do me that favor, just take a swing at that curve ball and we’re gonna have a real shot, gentlemen—with or without Tim Mooney.”

Coach Quinn paused for effect, took off his baseball cap, and said, “Now, our first game is coming up this Friday—the Park Panthers. We know they play hard, and we know they like to run the ball all over the field. We’re going to have to be ready for that. So let’s have a good practice today and focus on the Panthers.”

A
s everyone stood and prepared for practice, Danny Vance sat in the back of the room near Chris Truby. He thought about Tim not being part of the team. He felt angry that Tim had found something more important in his life than football, and he felt even angrier at the fact that Tim had very likely taken away the Olympians’ chance to win district. Despite everything Coach Quinn said, Danny had seen Bill Francis in practice. While he was unquestionably the best possible candidate to replace Tim as middle linebacker, he was nowhere near as good. Danny knew that, to have a real shot at winning district, he was going to have to lead the charge on offense, never really being able to count on the defense to hold a close game or make a timely stop. The entire season rested on his shoulders and it was all because of Tim.

At thirteen years old, Danny had only one dream in life, and that was to be the starting quarterback for the Nebraska Cornhuskers. His father had played for them. His older sister currently played volleyball for them. And his mother had been a cheerleader when his father played. That’s how they’d met. He had been groomed to play football for Nebraska. He knew that, based on his passing ability, he would likely be the starting junior varsity quarterback when he went to ninth grade the following year, but it wasn’t a guarantee, especially if they didn’t win district. If another junior high or middle school won, he knew that team’s quarterback would come into ninth grade with a little extra attention. If the Olympians could win district decisively, allowing him a chance to showcase his quarterbacking skills, he might even have a shot at making varsity as a freshman and being second-string behind Mike Trainor, who would be a senior, giving him a probable chance of starting on varsity as a sophomore: a feat only three other players had accomplished in the history of the school. And if he could put up impressive numbers and capture a state championship or two during his time in high school, he would garner attention from Nebraska. This was his plan. He vowed to maintain his plan even though Tim was making it more difficult.

He hoped that the defenses of the other junior high schools wouldn’t be ready for a strong passing game. He knew no other eighth-grade quarterbacks had his arm or accuracy, and the other schools’ defenses would assume the Olympians would run a heavy ground game. They would practice against run plays and get their corners and free safeties used to blitzing and stopping ground plays that got away from the linebackers. He had to have hope, and this strategy gave him that hope.

Danny looked over at Chris, who would be his go-to wide receiver this season. Chris would have to play to his full potential. He knew Chris was faster than most kids their age, and he had decent hands. Those things, combined with the fact that Danny was able to regularly throw a pass thirty-five or forty-five yards deep with accuracy, led Danny to believe they would have a shot at more than one deep pass play. He wondered if he could count on Chris, if he would be able to get the job done. As he wondered these things about his friend he noticed that, instead of paying attention to Coach Quinn, Chris was flipping through a series of pornographic images on his phone. From what he could see, they appeared to feature immensely obese women and abnormally skinny men engaged in various sexual acts.

A
cross the room, Tanner Hodge, the Olympians’ starting tailback, was having a much less strategic reaction to the discovery of Tim’s rejection of football. Like Danny, Tanner had dreams of pursuing the sport of football as a career, which meant being successful through high school and college, which he knew would be easier with a district championship in junior high.

But beyond the practical disappointment Tanner Hodge felt as a result of Tim quitting the team, he was offended on a deeper level; he felt a sense of personal insult. Tanner and Tim had been teammates on youth football and baseball teams since they were children. Tanner thought of Tim as his athletic equal, which, for Tanner, commanded more respect than friendship. Tanner felt a masculine connection, a camaraderie with all of his teammates. In Tanner’s mind, Tim was flippantly dismissing this bond that they had all built over the course of several years playing various sports with one another. He was dismissing the very identity that they all, in some part, shared. That dismissal was unforgivable.

Tanner thought about the fist bump he shared with Tim a few hours prior and became incensed. Tim Mooney immediately became the focus of a rage and hatred that Tanner Hodge had never experienced. He wanted to punch Tim. He wanted to kill Tim.

I
n the gymnasium, Brooke Benton and Allison Doss made banners for the season opener. The girls had known each other since early childhood and had always been a part of some sort of cheerleading group together. They prided themselves on their craftsmanship in the area of banners and posters. They were working on a poster that depicted an Olympian cutting the head off a panther when Brooke said, “Your hair looks so hot. And you are seriously skinny this year. You look really good.”

Allison, who had recently dyed her hair black, said, “Thanks. I went on a super diet over the summer and then I was like, ‘I should do my hair different, too.’ ”

Brooke said, “Well, it worked.”

Allison said, “Thanks.”

Allison had lost twenty pounds over the summer as a result of simply not eating when she was hungry. She was five foot two and weighed eighty-two pounds. Despite the fact that she often felt lightheaded and occasionally suffered from nosebleeds, she felt disgustingly fat and was determined to lose a few more pounds to ensure that she wouldn’t end up like her mother, father, or younger brother, who were all overweight if not obese.

She said, “So are you and Danny going to like do it this year or what?”

Brooke said, “My opinion is I don’t think so. I don’t know if we’re ready, you know? And it’s not really like either of us feels like we have to or anything. You know?”

Allison said, “Yeah. I guess so. I’m not rushing to do it or anything either. It’s just like, you guys have been together for so long, it wouldn’t be like you were doing it with some random guy just to do it or anything.”

Brooke said, “I guess.”

Hannah Clint, the first and only member of the Olympiannes to have C-cup breasts, joined the conversation, having overheard the last few comments as she worked on her own banner a few feet away.

Hannah said, “Um . . . I’m pretty sure you know next year we’re going to be in the ninth grade—high school—and you know Mike Trainor is going to be a senior. He’ll be the starting quarterback for North East and, Brooke, you’ll probably have a pretty good shot at him. You’re seriously way hotter than pretty much any of the cheerleaders who’ll be there next year. And you’re definitely not going to want to have it be your first time with him. He’ll be able to tell that you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Brooke had never liked Hannah. She tolerated her because she was a fellow Olympianne, but she felt that Hannah wasn’t worth her friendship. Although she had no direct evidence, she felt that Hannah had been jealous of her since they were children. Brooke felt that Hannah was jealous of her beauty. Brooke felt that Hannah wanted to be everything that Brooke was, but that she always came up slightly short. Hannah had gotten her breasts before any other girl, and Brooke felt that had just made Hannah that much more pathetic in her quest to be the prettiest girl in school, because she clearly flaunted them more than necessary. Every so often, Brooke would lay awake at night thinking about Hannah’s wardrobe and makeup and wonder if any male students had found Hannah more attractive than her that day. Hannah was unaware of any of this.

Brooke said, “He won’t be able to tell anything.”

Hannah said, “Are you kidding? You should just do it with Danny now, so you’re not completely terrible for Mike.”

Brooke said, “How would you know? You haven’t done it with anyone,” as she sent Allison a text message that read “Hannah is such a bitch.”

Hannah said, “I gave a blowjob over the summer.”

Allison said, “To who?” as she replied to Brooke’s text message with “I know. She thinks her tits make her god’s gift or something.”

Hannah said, “This guy I met when my mom and I were in Florida. Here, look.” Hannah took out her phone and began searching through her photos until she came to a photo of her with an unknown boy’s penis in her mouth, clearly taken by herself during the act, the boy’s head cropped out of the image. She showed the photo to Allison and Brooke.

Allison said, “Oh my god, was it gross?” as she sent a text message to Brooke that read “What a skank.”

Hannah said, “No, it wasn’t that bad. It was kind of salty, I guess.”

Brooke said, “Did you let him, you know, finish in your mouth?” as she replied to Allison’s text message with “I know, right?”

Hannah said, “Uh . . . yeah. How else would I know it was salty?”

Brooke and Allison simultaneously sent each other a text message that read “Gross!!!”

Hannah said, “Anyway, after this summer, I’m pretty sure that I’m seriously ready to actually do it, and I’m going to before I get to high school so I’m not completely retarded when I do it with a high school boy for the first time.”

Brooke said, “My opinion is that you should probably know who you’re going to do it with before you make that kind of decision.”

Hannah said, “I was thinking Chris.”

Brooke said, “Oh my god. That’s gross. He’s seriously repulsive. He showed me the grossest porn I have ever seen in my life today at lunch.”

Hannah said, “So he showed you porn? Who cares? I just don’t want to get to high school without having done it. And he’s cute enough and I think he likes me so . . . whatever.”

Hannah looked at her phone as it beeped to indicate a new text message and said, “My mom’s here. See you guys tomorrow.” Hannah picked up her purse and left the gymnasium.