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The whole place was rolling as the extra point sailed
through the uprights and the scoreboard registered their 28 points for the
home team. The band was playing
loudly some damn tune, but who could hear it as the noise of cheering
students drowned even them out. He’d have to find out who Number 85 was,
maybe he could get him to endorse his candidacy, now that would certainly
help.
Shit, here he was at a high school football game and
still his mind was whirling on angles to push himself ahead of all the
others. He wasn’t always this way, shit only in the last three years or so
had he become so absorbed.
The smile on his face faded slightly as he thought of
the reason for his pre occupation with getting ahead. He knew it wasn’t
right, wasn’t the real or only reason but it gave him some feeling of
pride to do it, to make it for her. He owed her that at least.
At least now he didn’t fall asleep crying, thinking of her or of
how he missed her. He wondered though, how his Dad was feeling.
Billy turned from the frantic celebration going on the
field to stare off to the side at his father. There he stood, the rock for
the family and at what price? He
was amazed at how his father had managed to cope so well with the loss, and
how he had never really cried in front of Billy or his older brother Taylor.
Now here he was, cheering with everyone else and
slapping people on their backs with ease that still amazed Billy. Sure it
was 2 years, 9 months, and 18 days since that terrible day, and he was
getting on with his own life, but he was just a kid. How could his Dad
manage so well?
Billy’s dad turned to face him and he saw the eyes,
those wonderful soft blue eyes and they seemed to just bore into his own
baby blues. Billy wasn’t a tall kid, only 5 foot 9 inches and 139 lbs but
his father, now there was a knock out of a guy for you. The dream man for
any women or man, for that matter.
It was unreal how that one look from his father seemed to calm him down
and turn his thoughts back to happier things.
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