Free Booked by Kwame Alexander Page B

hurt you, boy.
    Can we just play, please?
    Â 
    So we’re okay?
    Yeah, as long as you stop tripping me. That’s the only way you scored.
    Â 
    You’re the one trippin’. That was no foul.
    Maybe not when you played in the olden times.
    Â 
    If only your defense was as good as your jokes.
    How long are you staying?
    Â 
    A few days, but I’ll be back in two weeks.
    You should come to my game this weekend. We’re playing in New York, against the number one ranked team in the country.
    Â 
    About that, Nick.
    It’s only New York, Mom. We have a ton of chaperones.
    Â 
    I’m afraid you won’t be going to New York with the team.
    You’re gonna drive me?
    Â 
    Your father and I have decided you won’t be playing this weekend. I’m sorry.
    WHAT?! YOU CAN’T DO THAT!

And Just Like That, Things Are Out of Control Again
    You try everything. Coach
    even calls Mom to beg her.
    But, again, you have no rights.

Dressed in camouflage sneaks
    and an army green long sleeved
    Â 
    F READ OM tee,
    The Mac sees you
    walk in the library
    and hollers
    (right in front of
    everyfreakinbody
):
    Â 
    IF YOU’RE LOOKING FOR APRIL FARROW,
    YOU’RE OUT OF LUCK.
    NO BOOK CLUB TODAY, PELÉ.
    Â 
    Then he winks at you, laughs,
    goes back to shelving books
    and eating his sandwich.

Conversation with The Mac
    Cowboys fan?
he asks, sneaking up while you’re on the computer.
I saw you Googling Dallas.
    I’m going to the Dr. Pepper Dallas Cup. My soccer team got invited to play.
    Â 
    This weekend?
    In three weeks. This weekend blows.
    Â 
    The weekend’s not even here yet. Think positive.
    I had a soccer tournament in New York, but my parents said I can’t go.
    Â 
    Sorry to hear that, Pelé.
    Why do parents suck?
    Â 
    Try a different word.
    My bad, Mr. Mac. Why do GUARDIANS suck!
    Â 
    Ha! Ha! Who your parents are now is not who they were or who they will be. You may not like them now, but you will.
    Doubt it!
    Â 
    You get one chance to love, to be loved, Nick. If you’re lucky, maybe two.
    It’s just hard to love someone who cancels the cable right before the
Walking Dead
marathon.

Shrink
    Instead of
    playing soccer
    in the Big Apple,
    today
    you’re sitting
    in the Center for Relational Recovery
    on a pleather couch
    between Mom and Dad,
    staring at a quote by
    a man named Freud
    on the wall
    behind a,
    get this,
    psychologist
    with a black and white beard longer
    than
Santa Claus’s,
    a red pencil in his mouth,
    and a tendency to ask stupid questions:
    What else besides soccer makes you happy?
    How do you feel when you’re sad?
    Do you miss your mom?
    All because your bike
    got stolen
    and you lost
    your cool
    one night
    and then
    posted
    that you needed
    someone
    to intervene
    between you
    and the monsters
    and your cousin Julie
    told your aunt
    who called your dad
    who texted Mom
    who drove all night
    and scheduled
    an appointment
    with St. Nick
    who thinks your post
    was a cry for help
    when actually
    you were just listening
    to Eminem
    and thought
    the song was
    kinda nice.

You miss
    cinnamon French toast with blueberry preserves
    homemade lunches
    her headlocks and sloppy kisses
    her saying
sugar balls
when she’s pissed
    her cheering at matches
    Ping-Pong late Saturday nights
    clean clothes on Sunday
    double fudge milkshakes after church
    dinner with real plates and glasses
    her bad horse jokes at the table
    both of them holding hands watching TV
    family meetings
    and, yes,
    you even miss the group hug after family meetings
    but, no,
    neither your mom nor dad
    is a monster
    and you don’t need
    an interventionist.

When Mom Starts Crying, Dad Takes Her Out, Leaving You Alone with the Shrink
    Camouflaging your fears doesn’t make them go away, Nicholas.
    I’m afraid, okay. Now what?!
    Â 
    Now we try to figure out what to do.
    I know what to do. I need to learn how to fight.
    Â 
    You think you need to learn how to