Free One Shot Away by T. Glen Coughlin Page A

girl managers last year. The guys called them the Lemming Sisters because they’d basically run off a cliff if you told them to. Both graduated.
    Jane’s tall and scrappy, with slim hips, C-cup tits, and abs hard as a wrestler’s. She’s got dull brown hair that falls past her shoulders. Diggy considers calling her over, but there’s this thing about Jane: she’s got a birthmark around her right eye, covering half her forehead. It looks as if it could be peeled off like dried Elmer’s glue. Even in grammar school, when Diggy lived on the same block as her, she was Jane the Stain.
    Jane hops off the bleachers and crosses the wrestling mat in shredded jeans and a tight wrestling T-shirt. “Studying?” She has one of those gargantuan smiles with lots of teeth and gums.
    â€œMore like procrastinating.”
    Guys say Jane’s doable, not dateable. According to one story, she snuck into an away wrestling camp and blew half the team. His brother was there but said don’t believe everything you hear.
    She leans against the padded wall, then slowly slides to the floor next to him. Her tan thighs show through holes in her jeans. “How’s your mouth?”
    He pulls down his lip and shows her the gash.
    She winces.
    â€œCrow wants my weight class,” he says. “Trevor no es mi amigo .” They watch the practice. Trevor is matched up with a kid named Turkburger, who’s about as coordinated as a penguin. Trevor executes a ball and chain move and has Turkburger on his back.
    â€œCrow’s weird,” says Jane. “Walks around like he’s tripping on something. You ever notice that?”
    â€œI guess it’s an Indian thing,” says Diggy. “You know he sleeps in a teepee?”
    â€œHe does?”
    Diggy laughs. “Yeah, and he shoots buffalo from the school bus.” They watch Trevor tie Turkburger in a human knot.
    â€œTrevor got jacked over the summer,” she says.
    â€œOh, really? I didn’t notice.” He looks at her cross-eyed.
    â€œYou better stop being such a wiseass know-it-all.” She squeezes his thigh a few inches above his knee and it tingles all the way up his leg.
    Across the mat, Trevor gets in a takedown on Turkburger. It’s clean, completely awesome. Trevor never apologized, never said the collision was an accident. Diggy wonders if Trevor will have the balls to challenge him to a wrestle-off.
    â€œSo how’s living in the Hills?” she asks.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œGateway Hills, what’s that like?”
    â€œIt sucks, it’s great, who cares. It’s a place to live.”
    â€œIt’s got to be better than our old neighborhood.”
    â€œBetter? Maybe quieter, more spacious, but not better.”
    â€œYou have a pool and a hot tub, right?”
    Diggy shrugs. “You know what, no one ever goes in them. All we do is pay all these people to take care of the chemicals, vacuum the pool, cover the pool. Right now there’s a sycamore branch sticking out of the pool. Went right through the pool cover. My old man saw it, and do you think he cares? You know what he cares about?”
    She shrugs a shoulder.
    â€œCoach Randy has this idea that I can be half as good as my brother.”
    â€œI’ve seen your father at practices. He looks intense.”
    â€œCoach Randy thinks he’s my ‘real’ coach. He’s not doing it because he’s trying to win father of the year. He wants his last name on the Wall again.” They look up at the names. Last season, Jimmy O’Shea’s name was added as a District and Region winner. Diggy was relieved when Jimmy lost at the State tournament. He didn’t need Randy ragging on him about that.
    â€œI wish we could go back to when we were kids just, like, for a week. You ever think about that, when we used to live on the same block?”
    â€œI think about it.” Diggy used to ride minibikes with