The Crossroads of Logan Michaels Page 2

  My brother got into hockey, and he would rollerblade and play with a couple of his friends at the school after his wrist healed. He was getting big for his age that summer, and had a killer slap shot. My dad signed him up to start playing so that we could both keep busy.

  By the time middle school started, I was excited to play basketball—after all, I was Ice. I knew most of the eighth graders and, as for the ones I didn’t know, I wanted to impress them with my game on the court. Tryouts came soon, and I immediately impressed my coaches and got drafted to play on the Merrimack Valley starting travel team as a starting shooting guard. Jared was playing defense on his hockey team; things were back to normal and going well.

  My best friends, Jason and John, were not in my classes, though; they were a little more “advanced” than me in most subjects. It didn’t really bother me; I mean, I was on the starting basketball team. I met a lot of different kids on my team and I liked them a lot. So Jason, John, and I started to separate a little bit, but we always managed to walk home together after school, since we lived right down the street, after all.

  Middle school was my chance to shine. I was going to show the school how good I was at basketball this year. The first couple of games we played were so awesome; I loved traveling to different towns on the school bus. The feeling of butterflies, and feeling like my heart was in my throat, was a rush every game.

  I quickly passed the ball to Tim and cut to the hoop; a back door by Michaels, yes! Dribble, crossover, behind the back, jump shot, swish! “Player of the Game goes to Logan Michaels.” The feeling was almost unimaginable. My parents would proudly watch their son score twenty points a game, quickly making a name for himself. Jared would also watch from the crowd, although he usually seemed bored: he wasn’t really into basketball. He was more focused on hockey, at which he was amazing: when he put on his skates and padding, he was almost as tall as my dad. He had grown overnight, it seemed. He was by far the biggest kid on the ice. He outskated, outshot, and outplayed everyone. I’m not sure where our athleticism came from; I knew my dad had played recreational sports and so had my mom, but Jared and I were all-stars.

  It was amazing to watch Jared shoot such a powerful slap shot. The wrist he had injured was stronger than ever, and he had the scar across it that always reminded me of that day. Jared’s hockey games were usually on Sundays, which I loved. The leaves were falling, it was slightly cold, and the smell of my mom’s hot chocolate made me feel so warm inside. We would all hop in Dad’s beat-up car and drive over to the hockey rink to watch Jared play. I would scream in the stands for Jared as he skated speedily down the ice. “Take the shot, Jared!” Shoot!

  •••

  Sixth grade in middle school was so different from elementary. One difference was that the girls were so much more mature and developed. My locker was in the corner of the hallway, right next to the locker of this amazing girl. I would look over shyly, but she wouldn’t see me. I was always hoping that one day she would glance back. I thought that maybe if I could become a huge basketball star, then she would give me some attention.

  We had an old brown garage in our dirt driveway; it seemed like it was going to fall down at any point, but it never did. My dad had built a basketball hoop. The backboard was plywood and he screwed on an old rim. He attached it to this old garage, and it was exactly ten feet tall. Now, I could play every day throughout the year to win over my eighth-grade dream girl.

  Jason and John and some neighborhood kids would come over and we would have awesome games every night. I would play until Mom called me in for supper.

  The driveway was about twenty feet long and covered with big stones, and if the ball hit a stone, it would go flying. This helped me learn how to dribble. After dinner, I would go outside to play and shoot by myself. I would take fifty free throws a night until I hardly ever missed.

  The sun would go down and I would come in to do homework as my mom and dad were in the other room, yelling and arguing. This seemed to happen more often these days. Mom would never let me see her sad, though. Jared would play video games and do his homework. The typical American family, I guess you could call it.

  My basketball team was headed to our biggest game of the season, against Methuen. I had been practicing in that dirt driveway for weeks until the sun went down. When we were on the school bus driving to Methuen, I was quiet; my teammates were surprised that I was so focused and ready to go. Tipoff began, and I ran down the court to the three spot; Kevin passed the ball, my hands were steady and ready.

  Jump fake, behind the back, under the legs to the hoop, taking the shot! Swish and a foul. I got to the foul line, and all I could imagine was being in my dirt driveway as I easily nailed the bonus shot. I ran back with a big smile on my face, excited that my hard work was paying off. The first half of the game ended and we were up by fifteen points; I alone had fifteen points and was four-for-four from the foul line. The second half started and I couldn’t miss. I looked at my parents in the crowd and saw that they had just realized how amazing their son was at basketball. All the parents were cheering, yelling for me, and I felt so high that day; it was amazing. My dream girl was going to love me.

  The game ended and we won by a landslide. I finished the game with twenty-eight points and was eight-for-eight from the free-throw line. The game ball went to me and I rode home on the bus like I was king; things were going to change for me. The next day in school was fantastic—I got high-fives left and right as I walked down the hallway, and girls said hi to me as they smiled. I got to my locker and looked over at my tall, blonde, big-breasted, full-mouthed dream girl. She wasn’t looking, and I anxiously began to walk over to introduce myself. I turned and faced her with my first step, but before I could, a guy ran over to her and kissed her. Fuck! I thought, as I slammed my locker shut and went to class. What does he have that I don’t? I had attention from everyone except from the one person who mattered.

  On the positive side, basketball made me quite popular and, as Jason and John focused more on classes, I was hanging with the cool kids, mainly the athletes. The school year went fine: I maintained B’s and A’s, had an amazing basketball season, and was looking forward to summer basketball leagues and my baseball season—maybe Katie, my heartthrob, would notice me then.

  I tried out for the middle school baseball team a few months after basketball season. I made the team as a starting pitcher. The coach said that I had uncanny accuracy and that he was excited to see what I could do. Most of the kids from basketball were on the baseball team with me, so I began to grow close to them and drifted farther from Jason and John. Sadly, middle school divides people; my old friends were more studious and nerdy, whereas I was popular and great at sports.

  Baseball was so different from Little League; the mounds were so much farther apart and the fields were huge. In the first game of the season, I was starting for the travel team, pitching. STRIKE! First pitch. Second pitch, STRIKE!

  One more, Logan, let’s do this, I said to myself. STRIKE THREE! Three pitches and three strikes, where did I get this talent from? Three batters up during my first inning and all strikeouts. My team cheered and won that game; no runs scored and I had ten strikeouts. Player of the Game went to me, and again my head was inflated with confidence.

  School arrived, and Katie was at her locker; I couldn’t stop staring. She was even more beautiful. Still nothing. No look, smile, or gesture. That night when I got home, I went to work at our old computer that my grandfather had given us. We had dial-up Internet and I created a screen for AOL; one of my basketball buddies had told me about it. I created a screen name and could instant-message friends in real time. LMichaelsx75 was my screen name, and I linked up with my buddy Kevin. I then asked if he knew Katie’s screen name, waiting anxiously for his reply. He laughed, sending “LOL,” and then said, “Dude, just talk to her.” I acted like it wasn’t a big deal while anxiously waiting to see if he knew the name. Kshellz popped up, and my heart soared.

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sp; Thanks dude, see you tomorrow, I replied to Kevin. I opened my message box with the cursor just blinking and my chest tightened as I got up from my chair and paced back and forth. My mom called for dinner and I yelled back, “Give me a minute.” I sat in the chair, and sent Katie a message. Then I ran downstairs to dinner; I didn’t even want to see if she had responded. During dinner, I could barely eat a bite, and, immediately afterward I rushed up to the computer.

  LMichaelsx75: Hey

  No response, and it had been thirty minutes. Shit! Why did I message her? I got up to go downstairs when I heard a message notification sound.

  Kshellz: Hi who’s this?

  LMichaelsx75: Logan

  Kshellz: Do we know each other?

  LMichaelsx75: Lol I don’t think so, my locker is right next to yours

  Kshellz: Lol hmm I’m not sure I know who you are, but Hi

  LMichaelsx75: I’m in sixth grade, I play for the basketball and baseball team

  Kshellz: Oh cool. Well come say hi to me tomorrow

  LMichaelsx75: ok cool. Well nice meeting you. Bye

  Kshellz: Night

  Holy shit! It was happening: the girl of my dreams wanted me to talk with her. But wait, she hasn’t even seen me. What if she doesn’t like me? I rushed to my closest and began picking through all of my clothes; I needed to wear my coolest shirt. I picked out an Abercrombie shirt that I loved, and my favorite jeans and basketball shoes. I anxiously hopped into bed and dreamed about her naked body. I had watched a porno before, and was wondering if she looked anything like the girls in that film. My night was so long; it felt as if morning would never come.

  I walked nervously into school the next morning. My hands were sweaty; my stomach was rumbling because I had missed breakfast, and my knees felt like they would collapse at any moment. My pitching arm felt like jelly. I turned the corner to the hallway where my locker was located, and there she was. She looked so pretty, even prettier than usual. Was this for me? I wondered. I popped a couple pieces of gum into my mouth before walking over to her slowly.

  “Katie? Hey, I’m Logan.”

  She smiled and said, “Hi!” Her smile made my body warm and tense. I walked her to her class down the hallway and we barely said a word. We awkwardly said goodbye to each other as the bell rang. The walk was probably only one minute long, but it had felt like an hour. After she walked into class, my body felt light again. I was so relieved; a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. OMG! I walked to class feeling invulnerable and overwhelmed.

  That whole day, I sat in classes thinking about her, the way her lips might taste, the way her breasts had looked. The day was a blur and ended quickly. That night, I messaged her again and we chatted about school and sports. I wanted to ask her to the dance coming up in a month, but I knew she had a boyfriend.

  Weeks passed, and I hadn’t talked to Katie again. It was just so stressful being near her; she made me nervous and I didn’t want to ruin the one time we had talked. I focused on my baseball team and school; we were 3-0 and I was the number-one pitcher on the team. I won two games in a row and hadn’t given up a run. Still, all I could think about was Katie and the big dance coming up. All of my friends on the team had dates, but I wanted to ask Katie. That night, I finally got the courage to message her again.

  LMichaelsx75: Hey Katie

  Kshellz: Hi!

  LMichaelsx75: how are you?

  Kshellz: I’m good thx. How are you?

  LMichaelsx75: I’m good, tired from baseball

  Kshellz: aww

  LMichaelsx75: I have a question for you

  Kshellz: yes?

  LMichaelsx75: Are you going to the dance?

  Kshellz: Yes of course

  LMichaelsx75: Do you have a date?

  Kshellz: Lol, ya my boyfriend

  LMichaelsx75: Lol oh ya cool

  Kshellz: what about you?

  LMichaelsx75: Ya I have a date

  Kshellz: awesome!

  LMichaelsx75: save me a dance lol

  Kshellz: Sure!

  That night, I realized that Katie and I were just friends. I need to find a way to make her mine, I thought. Also, I didn’t have a date, so I needed to find one quickly; if I showed up alone then Katie would know that I was a liar. There was this one girl I thought was kind of cute—Lauren. I messaged her immediately after signing off with Katie. She knew me, even though we didn’t talk a lot, and she didn’t have a date either.

  I am such a wimp, messaging a girl that I hardly ever talk to and asking her to the dance, I thought. However, Lauren said “yes” right away, and we planned on meeting at her friend’s house. A couple of my baseball and basketball friends were going with Lauren’s friends, so at least we could all go together. I went to bed that night, had a date for the dance, but it was not a date with my dream girl. Maybe one day I will get to dance with Katie.

  My mom helped me pick out a suit for the dance. She scrapped together the rest of the money that she had made from Mary Kay and bought me a beautiful suit. It seemed that no matter the circumstances, my mother would always support her family, have dinner ready, and treat my dad well. After we picked out my suit, we visited Nana and Papa.

  Nana was getting really bad; she didn’t even know her own daughter and grandson anymore. My uncle told us that she was going into a nursing home because it was hard for her to be on her own; she needed help. I saw my mother’s childlike eyes water and I hugged her. I could never imagine this happening to my mom one day; it made me sad to see Mom suffering.

  Papa looked depressed, rocking in his chair as he grunted, wearing the same green sweatshirt that he always wore. He never gave up on his wife, Eva, though; he was with her every day, even sitting in the chair next to her when she went to the nursing home. Their love seemed like an unspoken bond, and even though Eva couldn’t really remember who he was anymore, when I saw them look into each other’s eyes, I think that maybe she kind of did.

  Again that night, my mother and father fought over money. He worked so hard and so did she, but neither had a “career.” All of my friend’s parents had a big house with nice cars, and it made me jealous at times. I almost felt like I wasn’t worthy of being their friend because I didn’t have a big house.

  The day of the dance arrived, and my dad tied my tie for me and said, “Good luck.” My mother kissed me and smiled, asking for pictures, and Jared laughed at me as I walked away nervously in my suit.

  We arrived at Lauren’s friend’s house. A couple of my baseball buddies and I walked into a beautiful, huge home—marble floors, a huge living room, and, of course, a Mercedes in the driveway. Lauren timidly hugged me. She looked great in her red dress. Lauren had dark black hair, big breasts, and was very sexy—but she wasn’t Katie. As we were taking pictures, all I thought about was what Katie would look like at the dance and whether she had meant it when she had said that she would save a dance for me.

  The dance was at the middle school, which was lit up magically. Lauren and I walked in together holding hands. “My hands are so sweaty,” I said. She laughed and said that it was fine. I met up with my buddies in the corner and we all talked and laughed while the group of girls did the same thing. It was weird because, even though it was a dance, no one really danced.

  I looked around anxiously for Katie; where was she? From a distance, I saw a couple walking together and laughing—Katie had arrived. I hated her boyfriend. He’s ugly, I thought. She had on a blue dress with high heels that made her legs look so sexy. Her lips were covered in dark red lipstick, her smile lit up the whole room, and her pearly white teeth were perfect. I backed up in the corner, not knowing what to do; my heart sank and I panicked. How was I going to dance with her? She was an angel.

  The night was coming to an end; Lauren and I had our last dance together. She kissed me on the lips and I blushed. It was my first kiss, but I had wanted Katie to be my first. Seeing Katie standing by herself, I walked over confidently after the song ended. “Hi, Katie,” I said.<
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  She smiled and said hello. I bit my tongue and asked if she had saved me a dance, crossing my fingers. She smiled intimidatingly and said, “Of course, Logan.” I moved closer to wrap my arms around her, and my body immediately warmed up. It felt like I was in a sauna; as she wrapped her arms around me, I felt ecstatic. Her breasts were against my chest and my arms were holding her waist, as we slowly moved to the sound of love music. My whole world made sense when we danced; I forgot about my sick grandmother, my fighting parents, Jared’s cut wrist—nothing else mattered.

  Chapter 2

  CALL MY NAME

  The basketball court was filled with kids enjoying summer, girls in skimpy clothes, and hormones, everywhere. “Ice!” The ball gets passed; cross over, pump fake, the shot, SWISH! Summer basketball was one of the best times I’ve ever had. The girls would smile at me, and I felt like everyone knew my name.

  I had separated from Jason and John during the summer of sixth grade; we no longer had much in common. They would watch from the sidelines as I would take the game-winning jump shot. My life seemed so clear to me now. If I kept playing and practicing basketball, maybe I could go pro and marry a beautiful wife and live in a huge mansion with fancy cars. The world was mine and I loved every moment of attention.

  After summer league games, my basketball team would have pool parties at their parents’ houses. We would all eat pizza and do backflips off the diving board. Living the good life, I thought. Even though I was from a family that was not wealthy, I blended in so well with wealth. My friends’ parents loved me; maybe it was just because I was very athletic, but hey, I’d take it. The whole summer was amazing, from spending time with friends to playing pickup games at the schoolyard.