Journal #2

"...and be here at least one hour early so we can practice before the game," Coach Davis snarled, shoving his Yankees cap back on his head. He turned to Alex. "You too, hot shot." "Yes, sir," Alex mumbled. Peyton watched as the coach retreated to his car then turned to Alex. "How can you keep playing for this guy? It's ridiculous. He treats you like dirt." Alex stood up. "So?" "So?" Kevin laughed, standing. "You're the best batter on the team. Remember the three runs you batted in last game?" He shoved his bat carelessly into his bag. "Hey, if you don't care about being beaten down by Davis for the rest of your life, that's fine by me." Kevin took a swig of his water. "Any of you guys need a ride? My dad's got this new pickup truck, and---" Five of the boys leapt to their feet and immediately started blabbering on and on about how they needed a ride. Kevin motioned towards his dad's truck. "Go on, get in the back." He turned to Peyton. "You comin', Peyton?" "Nah," Peyton shrugged. "You go on." Kevin grinned. "A'right." Then he turned and followed the boys to the truck. Peyton glanced at Alex. "Hey, you want to hang out later? I think there's---" "No," Alex interrupted, his face stony. "What's the matter, Alex?" Peyton questioned. "Nothing," he snarled. "Just leave me alone!"

---------------------

Three hours later Peyton was at the fence behind Alex's house. He creaked open the gate and slipped into his yard. Suddenly the screen door slammed open and he dove into the bushes. He peeked through the branches and his breath caught in his throat. Alex was sitting on the back porch of his house with Jeremy Cahal. Jeremy was the school drug dealer and bully; you ran into him, you didn't leave without a black eye or a broken nose. They were sitting on the porch steps, and there was black backpack clenched tightly in Jeremy's hands. Alex shifted uncomfortably and the floorboards squeaked. Jeremy glared at him, his dark black hair dangling in front of his blue eyes. Alex looked as though he was going to puke from nervousness. "You... you got it?" He managed to squeak. Jeremy snorted then spat on the ground. "Course I got it. You got the money." Alex nodded, his red hair swaying. "Fifty bucks, right?" Jeremy grunted. Unzipping the backpack, he brought out a bag that contained a thin needle. "One injection, alright? That's what you're paying me for." "Right," Alex answered quickly. He pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and handed it to him. After shoving the money into his backpack, Jeremy removed the needle from the bag and grabbed Alex's arm. He briskly pushed the needle into his arm and pressed the plunger down to inject the liquid into Alex's body. Then he jerked the needle from his arm, causing Alex to squeal in pain. "Shut up," Jeremy snarled, dropping the needle into his backpack. Peyton watched in shock as he realized that Alex was taking steroids. He backed slowly from the bushes and towards the fence, keeping an eye on Alex and Jeremy. Then in one brisk motion he turned around and hurdled over the fence. Once his feet hit the ground he took off at a sprint. He didn't stop running until he reached his house.

------------------------

"You've got to believe me, coach! I saw it with my own eyes! Jeremy injected Alex with steroids!" Peyton was standing inside the coach's office, trying to explain the events of last night. Coach Davis was leaning against the desk, his Yankees cap pulled low over his head. "You sure 'bout this, Peyton?" He growled. Peyton nodded slowly. "I know I might lose him as a friend for doing this, and we'll also lose him as a teammate. But this is what I know is right. And I have to do something about it." Davis removed his cap and tucked it under his arm. Then he began clapping, shaking his head. "Delightful speech, Peyton. Rousing!" He chuckled then rubbed a hand over his short brown hair that glistened with sweat. Shoving the Yankees cap back on his head, he patted Peyton on the back. "Don't worry 'bout this, Peyton. I'll get the boy checked out." With that, he left his office and took off toward the locker room. Peyton sighed then turned and jogged out of the building and up onto the field.

----------------------

"Hey." Peyton dropped his bat and turned toward the dugout. Alex stood there, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His eyes were tired and angry; his jaw set in a permanent scowl. Peyton swallowed hesitantly as Alex walked toward him. "How could you do this to me?" Alex murmured, his brown eyes cold. "Listen, Alex, I'm sorry," Peyton began, but Alex merely shook his head. "You're not sorry. At least not yet you're not." Alex grabbed Peyton by the collar and pulled back his fist. Peyton was able to get out a yell just before Alex's fist connected with his face. Peyton fell to the ground, cheek throbbing and nose bleeding. He propped himself up on his elbows and blinked. Alex grabbed him by the hair and cocked his fist. "Alex!" Both boys turned around. Alex immediately dropped Peyton, his face full of fear and fury. Peyton turned toward his rescuer. It was Coach Davis. Davis pulled Peyton to his feet. Alex turned to run but the coach merely grabbed him by the ear. "You all right?" He asked Peyton. The boy nodded. "Good," the coach nodded, then pulled Alex's ear. Alex squealed in pain as the coach jerked him towards his office. "You, my boy, and I are going to have a long talk," Davis grinned. Moments later they disappeared into the building, leaving Peyton to stand on the field and wonder if he had done the right thing.