Free Blur (Blur Trilogy) by Steven James

since no one else was acting strangel y— j ust like at the funeral, when the y didn’t respond to what he’d seen in the caske t—e videntl y she had appeared onl y to him.
    The gu ys on his team fist-bumped him or smacked his shoulder pads and told him the y were glad he was oka y, and how well he’d pla ye d, and how tough he was to walk off the field after a hit like that.
    His dad was making his wa y across the track, hurr yi ng toward Daniel.
    “You banged yo ur head prett y hard out there, Dan. You alright?”
    “I’m good.”
    “You sure?”
    “I’m fine, I—”
    But he never finished his sentence. There’d been a face-mask penalt y when Daniel was sacked, but pla y had resumed on the field and the second-string quarterback had fumbled the ball on the first snap.
    Half a dozen pla ye rs piled on each other tr yi ng to recover the ball and it wasn’t clear which team had gotten it, but the Pioneers gu ys were all pointing to their side of the field.
    The refs dug through the pile of pla ye rs and when the y got to the bottom, the y made the call.
    Pioneers’ ball.
    Some of the gu ys around Daniel swore in frustration. He felt like doing the same.
    Since he’d lost consciousness, even though it was onl y for a short time, his dad could have sta ye d there at the sidelines with him without an y issue s—b ut after he’d confirmed that Daniel was alright, he got a call on his radio and left to take care of some sort of altercation near the concession stand.
    After his dad left, Daniel watched the dismal ending to the game.
    The Pioneers scored.
    Hit the extra point.
    Took the lead 24 to 21.
    Man, he wanted so badl y to be out there. He assured his coaches that he was fine, but school polic y was clear: after what’d happened, he would be out for the remainder of the game.
    After stopping the Eagles in three pla ys , Coulee High controlled the ball the rest of the game until the last few seconds, when the y hit a field goal to make the score 27 to 21.
    The onl y hope Beldon had was running back the kickoff, but that didn’t happen.
    The y failed to score at all.
    Lost homecoming.
    To the Pioneers, their archrivals.
    Because yo u were too distracted b y a ghost to be focused on the game!
    Although there was no wa y to be certain, Daniel kne w— h e kne w —h e wouldn’t have fumbled that ball. He would have hit Cox for the first down. And the y would have moved downfield and scored. If onl y he hadn’t seen Emil y Jackson walking toward him, then ever yt hing would’ve turned out alright.
    What’s going on?
    What’s wrong with yo u?
    Wh y are yo u seeing these things!
    Ma yb e if he’d hallucinated after the hit to the head he could understand it, at least a little bi t—b ut that’s not the wa y it had pla ye d out. It’d happened beforehand and that’s what had caused him to get sacked in the first place.
    Even though he’d smacked his head, it actuall y hurt less now than it had before the game. The headache, the one that’d been plaguing him all afternoon, was gone.
    He realized that it was similar to when he’d fainted at the funera l—b oth times his headache had faded awa y after the vision of Emil y appeared.
    The mood in the locker room was dismal, a sense of collective disappointment, but the team knew better than to blame an yo ne in particular.
    It was part of Coach’s philosoph y: yo u win or lose as a team and not as individuals. “There’s no one to blame when we lose and no one to thank when we win,” he’d told them more than once. “We’re a team. We don’t point fingers and we don’t bask in glor y. We go out there and fight and we take victor y or defeat with dignit y. We leave ever yt hing we have on the field and walk awa y with our heads held high. All together. As a team.”
    Some people might have discounted it as just t yp ical locker room pop ps yc holog y, but Daniel got the impression that Coach Warner believed wholeheartedl y in what he said.
    A man