The gymnasium fills with students while we wait to be introduced.
Principal Sturges takes the microphone and quiets everyone down. “We have some very special guests with us today. I hope you’ll give them a proper Rebels welcome.” He pauses for dramatic effect, and then he announces us into the room. “Our very own Jersey City Goldfinches, accompanied by Philly’s Chance Kellerman.”
The students erupt with surprised cheers, and we enter the booming gymnasium.
I lock eyes with Avery, sitting in the front row like we requested. He’s wringing his hands in his lap, and his eyes are wide. He said he doesn’t want to be called up to the podium with us, but he’s aware we’re going to point him out to everyone to thank him for inviting us here.
I’ll admit, I’ve never been shy. I don’t know what anxiety feels like, and I was never the loner kid growing up. He has more in common with Kellerman, and fuck if that doesn’t make me feeljealous. But I want to show him, and Presley, that I’m here for them.
I shake the principal’s hand, and take the microphone from him. “Ramtown Rebels, how are we doing today?” The students cheer again. “We’re here today because our good friend Avery King invited us. Does everyone know Avery?”
The students look around the room, their heads whipping left and right until Principal Sturges walks over to him and points him out. Avery lifts a meek hand to wave to everyone, his cheeks tinged with a deep red as students clap to thank him.
“As some of you might know, us hockey players get into fights on the ice. The game is intense, and our emotions run high. I’m sure you’ve seen me get into it with this guy a few times.” I pause, turning to face Kellerman. “But fighting on the ice is a lot different than fighting off the ice.”
I didn’t rehearse a speech. I really didn’t think too much about what I was going to say. I just want to be real with these kids, and make an impact on them.
“Fighting off the ice happens in the real world where there are real consequences. There’s no referee to stop it, no penalty box to cool off in for a couple of minutes. The things you say and do to other people will affect them for the rest of their lives. So, be a leader. Be a friend. Be someone who makes people feel good, and make them remember you for the difference you’ve made in their lives.”
I hold out the mic to Kellerman. He stares down at it like he’s looking to it for answers before he speaks. He’s never been the best at talking, but when he finally decides on what he wants to say, he makes it count.
His words have always mattered to me.
“I was in high school. I know how hard it is. You have all this pressure on you to figure out what you want to do with the rest of your life. Keep your grades up; get into a good college so youcan get a job; please your teachers, please your parents; try to find where you fit in. You’ve got all this pent-up frustration, but you’re just a kid, and all you want to do is have fun.”
He pauses as several students clap and shout in agreement.
“And while you’re trying to keep your head above water, real-life crashes into you. Depression. Anxiety. Maybe your parents get divorced. Maybe you lose a loved one. Maybe you struggle with addiction. Maybe your family can’t afford to put food on the table, or a roof over your head. Maybe you’re confused about your sexuality or your identity. Every single one of us is struggling inside. We’re all fighting hard battles every single day. But instead of coming together and supporting one another, we take it out on each other.”
The room falls quiet.
“Bullying other kids doesn’t fix your problems. It won’t take your pain away. It doesn’t make you strong; it makes you weak. You think it makes you look tough, but it only shows how much you’re hurting inside. My father beat on me every single day, and I can promise you—I didn’t look at him with respect. I looked at him with hatred.”
Pride swells in my chest, and I reach out to lay a hand on Kellerman’s shoulder in silent support, knowing how difficult it is for him to talk about this, let alone in a room filled with strangers.
“So, what I’m asking you—the reason we’re here today—is to show kindness and compassion to one another. Be a person who people look up to. Help others when they need it.” He glances at me over his shoulder. “And let them help you, because it’s okay to need help sometimes.”
Emotion clogs my throat as he hands me the mic, and I hand it off to Alex because my voice will give me away.
All I ever wanted was to help Chance; to help him be his true self; to help him break free from the shackles of his father.
To help him feel worthy of love.
He never truly gave himself to me or Presley. Physically, sure, but his heart was guarded then.
Would it be any different now?
After the assembly ends and the children head to their next classes, Principal Sturges allows Avery to stay behind for a few pictures.
The kid lost both of his parents—one who left him by choice and one who was taken too soon. I can’t imagine the weight of emotion he carries on a daily basis. It kills me to know that punk-ass kids are making life even harder for him.
Avery and Alyssa are extensions of Presley; they have a piece of her coursing through them. I’d do anything for her, which now means I’ll do anything for them too.
And judging by the way Chance holds on tight to Avery as he hugs him goodbye, I’d say he feels the same way.
The coaches of the football, baseball, and soccer teams have their students stay behind in the gym so we can have a deeper conversation with them. They ask us questions, mainly about what it’s like playing a professional sport, and then I leave them with a little reminder at the end.
“You should be the leaders of this school. The protectors; the ones to look up to. Do you want to be remembered as the guy everyone wanted to be with, or be? Or do you want to be remembered as the asshole who picked on kids who didn’t deserve it?” I shrug. “You’re not going to get any dates by beating on people. It’s a major turn-off. It doesn’t make you look tough; it makes you look weak.”