Atticus waited by his red 2020 Toyota Rav4 along with Tytus and Damian after changing and showering in the locker room.

The clock was reading 7:35 PM when Josiane arrived with a pout on her face.

“You were watching me,” she said in a soft drawl to Atticus, the pout turning to a smirk. “One of these days, I’m going to have to get you interested in cheerleading, and not just because I’m on the team.”

“But you’re all I need to watch,” Atticus said with a smile, as the two quickly kissed, Josiane getting into the SUV’s front seat (Tytus took most of the back seat, barely fitting in while Damian’s smaller frame fit in easily).

Josiane smirked more. “That catch at the end? A thing of beauty.”

“You were watching?” Atticus asked curiously as he started the drive from his school to the others’ homes.

“You bet your ass I was,” she teased.

“Then you saw the two sacks I got before he had that catch?” Tytus asked with a grin.

“That, I did, Ty.”

“You’re flirting with both of them, aren’t you?” Damian said with a sigh.

“Come on, Day, we’ve all known each other since we were kids. You know that I’d never steal Ty from his girlfriend, especially since she’s more of the vindictive type.”

“Teresa’s not vindictive,” Tytus defended. “Just cause y’all have a beef-”

“I get it. But I’m worried for you, Ty. She’s not a nice person deep down.”

“So, um…how was everything with everyone?” Atticus asked to defuse a potential argument.

“Day’s been getting me into Baldur’s Gate 3,” Josiane said, flipping her hair. “Good recommendation as always. It really is a great game, but I can’t do hundreds of hours like he can.”

“I thought you liked D&D?” Damian snickered.

“I do! I just wanted an aarakocra on my console playthrough…”

“I thought you liked all kinds of elves, though.”

“I just want to play a bird person! Is that too much to ask?”

“You and ya birds, Josi,” Tytus chuckled, humorously shaking his head.

“How about I flip you one?” the girl said teasingly.

“I swear, I will turn this car around,” Atticus mock-warned.

“No need, we’re at my house,” Damian answered bluntly.

Atticus noted the fairly well-to-do house Damian’s parents owned that was closest to the school. His friend never allowed the three to go to his house; he had always come over to Atticus’s place (and never Tytus’s or Josiane’s, even when they asked). He had a deep suspicion why…but he was reluctant to share and respected Damian’s autonomy too much to just blurt it out.

“You sure you don’t need help with any of your stuff?” Josiane asked Damian gently.

“I’ll be fine.” Damian flashed a smile and waved at his friends, limping toward the house, before Atticus drove on.

“Could ya drop me off next, Ats?” Tytus asked. “I know ya probably wanna spend time with your girl.”

“Much as that would be awesome, we’re not at that point at the moment,” Josiane said dreamily.

“So, I’m dropping you off first, Josi?” Atticus asked.

“Sure. I know you two are probably going to be-”

“Actually, I gotta help clean up the house for my ma. So, drop me off first.”

“So, we’re not spending the night, any of us?” Atticus asked.

“I’d ask Day to spend the night, maybe even play some video games, but he’s been reluctant to spend time with anyone but you, ever since we were kids, never asks any of us to come over to his place,” Tytus said, his tone growing quiet. “Maybe his folks are even worse than we think.”

“I think so.” Josiane’s tone was both sorrowful and furious. “I swear, if I ever see his parents-”

“Don’t,” Atticus warned. “You know what Day will say and how they’ll react.”

“I just…I’m furious that nobody will do anything for him,” the cheerleader said in helpless rage. “Including us.”

“Day thinks he has to handle these things alone,” Tytus said regretfully, before his voice became venomous with anger. “Honestly wouldn’t mind gettin’ my older brothers and me to come over there and deliver real justice-”

“And Day would be furious that y’all ruined your lives over him,” Atticus finished, his tone blunt as a hammer.

“God, Ats, I can’t stand seeing that every day, he’s got a new injury and a new excuse for it.”

“Day’s scared. As all of us would be in his place.”

The car ride continued on silently before they reached Tytus’s place. It was a bigger house, but still in a rough neighborhood, and an older Black woman with gray hair saw the car pull to a stop, Tytus quickly getting out and giving his mother a gentle hug.

“Thanks for dropping off my son, Atty, Josi,” Mrs. Cormier said in a tone as warm as an apple pie. “I wish Day could come over here, but know he’s welcome here at any time.”

“Yes, Mrs. Rho,” Atticus and Josiane chorused; Mrs. Rhonda Cormier may have cut a fierce figure with her imposing size, and she was fierce when it came to matters of family, but they all knew she was a kind, if demanding woman.

“Now, Ty, you can have dinner and then we can clean up the house. You have the choice between the vacuum and dishes or cleaning the bathrooms-”

Tytus saluted the car before Atticus drove off, the time reading 8:02.

“You sure Teresa’s vindictive, Josi?” Atticus asked his girlfriend in concern, his eyes glued to the road. “I mean, she doesn’t have nice things to say about you or Day, but Ty-”

“Believe me, Atty, she’s fucking vindictive as hell.” Josiane’s voice was blunt. “I feel awful for Ty, wanting someone good, but ending up with her. I feel awful that nobody has considered Day when we know how good of a person he is. It’s just…it’s not fair.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh.

The car ride continued in silence before they reached Josiane’s house: a large two-story building a little way from the school.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Atty,” Josiane said with a kiss on his cheek.

“See you then, Josi,” he echoed.

She hopped out of the car, her parents waiting for her before she waved goodbye.

Atticus went on the road, his thoughts only on his parents and his older sister. Mom and Dad…they were proud of him being the star football player, and he knew that both of them loved their kids, but they really weren’t as involved with his life as Tabitha, his older sister by five years, was.

It was Tabby who made sure to put her career as a professional ballerina - a very talented professional ballerina - on hold to make sure the family could be supported. It was Tabby who bought him the Rav4 with her own hard-earned money working two separate jobs. It was Tabby who gave him a recommendation for his own job, as she had worked at Popeyes once upon a time and he had followed suit, busting his ass on the weekends. Hell, it was Tabby who taught him more about footwork - and who taught him more about playing wide receiver - than anyone ever had, even Coach Hamilton. Ballet was all about footwork, and one of the biggest weapons a wide receiver had was footwork, so the synergy was there from the start.

At least she didn’t make me wear a leotard, he thought with a shudder.

The drive to the house didn’t take long (he was fairly close to both Josiane and Tytus), and the clock read 8:58. He parked the car in the driveway of his house - a fairly modest two-story building - and hopped out, ready to greet his parents (he assumed Tabby was at her evening job at the girl’s clothing store).

His dad, originally a Texan man with graying hair and a huge beard, was there at the table, his blue eyes appraising a newspaper when Atticus waved at him, saying, “Hey, Dad.”

His dad spoke in a deep Texan drawl, “Hey, Atticus. How was practice?”

There it was. No questions about what his grades were (decent - B-minus all around - and getting better), no questions about his friends, not even a question of how he was. Just football practice. Then again, his dad was a taciturn man of very few words.

“Practice went well,” Atticus said nonchalantly, as he put the equipment he was allowed to bring back (the practice jersey, gloves, and girdle, which were thrown in the washer, his cleats - scrubbed clear of the grass and dirt they practiced on) in the laundry room. “Caught a couple of passes. Ty had some great pressures. I think we’re winning the championship.”

“Good. Colleges should be watching, so I expect the best.”

Atticus nodded.

“Hello, Atty, dear.” His mom, her Louisiana accent prominent, had come into the picture, her forest green eyes warm, her strawberry-blonde hair - with hints of gray in them - falling to her shoulders. She gave him a big hug. “Dinner’s in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

“Thank you, Mom.” Atticus looked at the dinner - shrimp, scallops, and andouille sausage gumbo with the Holy Trinity (onions, bell peppers, and celery) and okra; his mom seemed to make it perfect every time - cold in the fridge. He put it in the microwave, waiting for it to cook.

“I hope you ain’t been neglecting your grades?”

“B-minus all around, Mom,” he said, waiting for the gumbo to finish cooking.

“B-minus ain’t gonna get you into the top schools,” she chided. “I want you to get at least an A-minus on all your studies.”

Atticus bowed his head. While his dad was obsessed with him getting into schools on a football merit, his lawyer mom demanded perfection at school, albeit with her wanting him to succeed on the football field as well. He tried his best, honestly! He tried to work on his grades as well as football practice, but the former just wasn’t coming easily.

“I’ll do better,” he said, as the timer dinged.

“Good, honey,” she said with another gentle hug. “That’s all I want. Don’t want you to hafta go to community college to get your grades up for football.”

“Understood, Mom.” He got out the gumbo, waited for it to cool, and ate in silence.

Then Tabby came home from work at 10:30.

“Hello, everyone!” she sang in that soprano of hers, rushing over to hug Atticus and then their parents.

Tabby was small and slim (only around 5’1” without her heels at the most), still in her uniform (a black dress that fell to her knees and stiletto heels that made her height five inches taller), her sandy-brown hair (obviously, she had gotten Dad’s hair) in a ponytail, her green eyes sparkling with love. That’s who Tabby was: a loving woman who cared deeply about her family.

“Hey, Tabby Cat,” Atticus replied with a grin, seeing his sister groan at the hated nickname. “Everything go well at work?”

“I’ll ‘Tabby Cat’ you,” she mock-chided him before she grinned and lit up the entire room with that smile. “Work went well. Some woman was a total Karen and wanted her measurements done now instead of waiting. Management took care of it. Everything was good otherwise. Nothing too fancy, nothing too memorable.”

“Any chance o’ gettin’ back into ballet?” Dad asked. “I know you wanna do it…”

“I’d rather stay close to y’all,” Tabby said bluntly. “You know ballet travels all over, and I miss y’all too much. Maybe later on when Atticus is out of high school. And speaking of which-” She pointed at the clock. “It’s 10:30. Atty, shouldn’t you be going to bed for school tomorrow?”

Atticus yawned. Yeah, he was a little tired, but…ah, hell, Tabby was right. He had another day of football practice before the big game on Saturday.

“Okay, I’ll get some shuteye,” he said. “Night, y’all.”

He heard their goodnights before he went up to his room and opened the door.

The walls were what a teen boy would typically have: posters of hot women in bikinis on the walls, a dresser with football memorabilia (including a signed football by Drew Brees, the quarterback of the New Orleans Saints, that he treasured), the bookshelf of action packed books, the closet filled with T-shirts and jeans, his bed freshly made (obviously by his mom) with green sheets and a worn pillow.

He flopped on his bed, making sure to turn off the lights from the remote nearest him. Sleep came rather quickly after that.

One day stood between him and his destiny.