Full Impact (4 page)

When Norval finished, he put down his pen and looked up. About half the class had already completed the test. They sat waiting for the other half to be done. Arnie gazed out the window. Norval was glad to see that he wasn't still struggling to finish. He was fine. Focused.

At the end of class, Mr. Wilson collected the tests and dismissed the class. Norval waited for Arnie by the door. They were about to leave when Mr. Wilson called to Arnie. He held up one of the test sheets. “Mr. Johnson, what happened?”

The paper had Arnie's name written on the top line—and that was all!

“Didn't you read the book?” Mr. Wilson asked.

“Most of it,” Arnie answered.

“Then why didn't you write anything?”

“The questions didn't make sense to me,” Arnie said with a feeble smile.

Mr. Wilson ruffled through the other papers. “They seemed to make sense to everyone else.”

Arnie shrugged.

“Mr. Johnson, go home and finish the book. Then come see me about a possible retest. You have until Friday.”

“Thanks,” Arnie said.

Arnie and Norval headed out into the hall together. “Didn't read the book, huh?” Norval assumed. “I thought you said you liked it.”

“I did—at first. I got through three-quarters of it. I lost interest after that, though.”

“You could have answered the first two questions, at least,” Norval said.

“Maybe. But for real—I couldn't make sense of those questions.”

“They weren't exactly hard. Are you feeling all right?”

“Kind of tired.”

Norval opened his mouth to ask another question, but Arnie cut him off. “It's nothing. I've been seeing more of Lara. We've been going out, you know—staying up late and all.”

“That's cool,” Norval said. Really, it was none of his business.

“You're right. It's cool,” Arnie said. “Everything's cool.”

“Good,” Norval said.

His next class was trig. Arnie wasn't in it. Norval had to play close attention in math. Like chemistry, it didn't come easily to him. So for the length of that class he didn't think of Arnie, or football, or anything else but trigonometry. In a way, the class was a pleasant distraction from his other worries.

On the way out, he met up with Kadeem, who was also in trig. “What did Coach want to talk to you about?” Kadeem asked.

Norval hesitated. Coach Green had spoken to him privately. He wasn't sure if it was right to reveal Arnie's business to another player, even if it was Kadeem.

Kadeem lowered his voice. “Was it about Arnie?”

“Yeah. Did he talk to you too?”

“Yeah,” Kadeem said.

“Do you think there's anything wrong with him?” Norval asked.

“I don't know, but I haven't really been paying attention,” Kadeem replied. “I'll watch him more closely from now on.”

“Me too,” Norval agreed. “But that doesn't mean I'm going to tell the coach what I think. I don't think it was right for him to ask us to do that.”

Kadeem nodded. “I know what you mean. But it doesn't seem right not to do it, either. You know what I mean?”

Norval did know, but for some reason he didn't feel like admitting it. “Not really. Doesn't it feel like spying to you?” he asked as they walked down the hall.

“In a way,” Kadeem said. “But I hope Arnie's as fine as he keeps saying he is.”

“Look,” Norval said. “If this is as big a deal as Coach Green makes it out to be, why doesn't he take charge of it? Let him watch Arnie.”

“We're around Arnie way more than Coach Green is. I think he is watching Arnie. He probably just wants some backup.”

“So you're going to be watching Arnie too?”

“Yeah.”

That made Norval feel a lot better. With Coach Green and Kadeem on the case, they didn't really need him.

“But I'm not tight with him like you are,” Kadeem added. “Arnie's a great guy, but we don't hang out. I don't even have any classes with him this year. You see him the most.”

Norval nodded. At first he'd been happy that Kadeem was in this with him. But—if he really thought about it—talking to Kadeem would be the same as going to Coach Green. It would have the same result. Arnie could end up being sidelined—maybe for the rest of the season.

Then Norval remembered how Kadeem had talked about things. He tried not to worry until he was sure he had a reason to worry. And he wouldn't turn in Arnie unless there was a reason he was sure of. Norval decided he would try to do the same.

T

he Titans had to win their next game in order to qualify for the semifinals. They were scheduled against the Hempstead Huskers.

“I heard they've been working on defense since the last time we played them,” Kadeem said in the locker room before they went out.

“We'll run a strong interference,” Jerome Stevens said confidently.

“We're going to have to really block them hard,” Kadeem added.

“We can contain them,” Arnie said. “This game is in the bag.”

Norval wasn't so sure. Southside High was pretty evenly matched with Hempstead, especially if the Huskers had strengthened their defensive line.

Coach Green came into the locker room. “Arnie, Norval, Jerome. I need a word with you.” They huddled around the coach in a corner away from the other players. “I just talked to those scouts from Miller College. They were asking me about the three of you.”

“Me? Are you sure?” Arnie asked eagerly.

Coach smiled. “Yeah, you, Arnie.”

Arnie grinned.

“Stay sharp out there today. My feeling is they might make one or all of you an offer, depending on what they see in this game,” Coach Green continued.

“Awesome!” Arnie said.

Out on the field, Norval located the scouts in the stands. Then, once again, he tried to put them out of his head. Thinking about scouts during the game would just throw him off.

Midway through the first quarter, a Husker was about to sack Kadeem when he lateralled the ball to Norval. Norval leaped for it, but two other Huskers took him down.

Arnie swept up the ball before it hit the ground. Head down, he barreled forward, a straight shot at the end zone in front of him. The Southside fans went wild in the stands.

Arnie lifted up his head and looked into the cheering crowd, slowing down slightly before he reached the goal line. Without realizing it, he veered into the path of two defenders.

No!
Norval thought, cringing as the two Huskers tackled Arnie to the ground.

– – – – –

Throughout the rest of the first half, Arnie and Norval were tackled repeatedly. Kadeem had been right. The Huskers were more formidable than they'd been the last time the Titans played them.

With minutes to go at the end of the second quarter, Kadeem threw a short pass to Arnie, who snagged the ball over the head of the defender. A couple of teammates blocked some of the Huskers as they came after him. Several more defenders broke through.

As the Huskers gained on Arnie, Norval tried to get into position, should Arnie decide to lateral the ball.

Arnie juked left and right as he muscled toward the end zone.
He's showing off for the scouts
, Norval realized.

With only a couple of yards to go, Arnie was dragging two defenders along with him. Then a third Husker hit Arnie hard. He went down at the one -yard line, losing the ball as he fell.

After the tackle, Arnie slowly pulled himself up. As the whistle blew to end the half, he slouched off the field, veering to the side as though he were off-balance.

Kadeem jogged alongside Norval, then tilted his helmet in Arnie's direction. “See that?”

Norval nodded. He was glad Kadeem had noticed. It proved to Norval that he hadn't been imagining it—Arnie had weaved to the right just then. It wasn't a good sign.

I

n the locker room, Jerome confronted Arnie. “What's the matter with you, man? I was open. Norval was clear. Why didn't you get rid of the ball? You could see those guys were coming for you.”

Arnie took off his helmet and stared at him blankly. He didn't even seem angry. Just confused. “I didn't see them.”

“How could you not?” Jerome shouted. “They were hanging on you!”

The other players began to gather around. Arnie held his blank stare.

“Answer me!” Jerome demanded. “Are you high? I think you're stoned.”

Norval stepped in. “Come on, Jerome. You know that's not true. Tell him, Arnie.”

“No, I'm not stoned,” Arnie said flatly.

“You're a liar,” Jerome shouted, shoving Arnie.

Arnie staggered back and tripped over the bench. A sickening crack sounded as Arnie's head hit the cement floor. Arnie's eyes shut. His face seemed to relax—go limp, almost.

Norval knelt beside him. “Arnie! Arnie!” he cried, trying to rouse his friend. He was rising to get help when Arnie's eyes flickered open.

“How do you feel?” Norval asked urgently.

Arnie looked at him but didn't answer.

Kadeem peered at Arnie from over Norval's shoulder. “What's going on, Arnie?”

Arnie pulled himself up.

“I didn't mean for you to hit your head like that,” Jerome said sullenly. “I'm sorry, man.”

Arnie sat on the bench and dismissed Jerome with a wave. “Whatever.” He looked to Kadeem and Norval. “I'm not stoned. I would never do that, especially not during a game.”

“We know. It's cool,” Norval said.

“You okay to play the rest of the game?” Kadeem asked.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

Kadeem gave Arnie's shoulder a friendly slap and walked off. Norval sat beside Arnie. “Looked like you were somewhere else for a couple of seconds. Are you sure you should play?”

“What are you? My mom?” Arnie said, getting up. “Of course I can play. There are scouts out there.”

Arnie's timing was off in the second half and so was his judgment, but the Titans won the game. They still had a shot at the play-offs.

“Sorry I was so awful today,” Arnie murmured as the team left the locker room together.

“You probably shouldn't have played after getting that crack on the head during halftime,” Norval replied. “Go home. Get some sleep.”

“Yeah. That's what I need. I'll be better in the morning.”

A

rnie didn't come to school on Monday. Norval tried his cell, but Arnie didn't pick up. He didn't respond to Norval's texts, either.

Arnie and Norval had different schedules on Tuesday, so Norval didn't see him then, either. But he assumed that Arnie would at least be at practice. To Norval's surprise, Arnie wasn't.

Arnie would have to be really sick to miss practice,
Norval thought.
Maybe something's seriously wrong.

“I'm worried about Arnie,” Kadeem said as he and Norval headed off the field. “He's never missed drills before.”

“I know,” Norval agreed. “And he got hit bad on Saturday—twice on the field and once in the locker room.”