Body Slammed! by Ray Villareal Page A

post back and forth until they were able to loosen the concrete base from the ground. They yanked the sign out and heaved it into the back seat of TJ’s car. Once they got to the apartment, TJ washed the sign in the bathtub and stood it in his dining room, next to his drums.
    â€œAs for the age difference, Dad,” Jesse continued, “you’re way older than TJ, but you still hang out with him, don’t you?”
    Jesse’s father furrowed his brows. “Just be careful with him, champ. You hear?”
    Jesse gave him a silent stare. Then he drank his tea without making further comments.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
    W ednesday morning, Jesse received a text from TJ inviting him to a Halloween party Saturday night at the Brookstone Apartments clubhouse. He also invited Jesse to work out with him at the gym after school.
    Jesse wanted to go, but he had football practice, and practice wouldn’t end until five-thirty. After that, he would have to go home for supper. As soon as he finished eating, his grandmother was going to take him driving. He didn’t have any free time.
    Unless he skipped football practice.
    Jesse didn’t think Coach Blaylock would notice if he didn’t show up. Their last game was against the Burnet Dragons, the only team standing between the Sidewinders and the district championship. More than likely, Coach Blaylock would be focused on his starting players, not on the benchwarmers.
    Jesse answered TJ and told him to pick him up in front of his school at two-twenty.
    At lunchtime, he explained to the guys why he wouldn’t be at practice.
    â€œWhat is it with you and The Jobber?” Goose asked. He winked at Wendell and Bucky. “Is he your special BFF?”
    â€œWatch yourself, Goose,” Jesse warned. “You’re starting to walk on dangerous grounds.”
    Wendell looked up from his plate of baked chicken and mixed vegetables he had brought from home. “You know, Jesse, technically, you’re still in school, even when you go to practice. So if you take off with TJ Masters, you’ll be skipping school. You know that, don’t you?”
    Jesse glared at him. “What do you care, man? Are you going to snitch me out to Coach Blaylock?”
    Wendell flinched. “No, Jesse. It’s just that I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
    â€œI’m not going to get in trouble,” Jesse said. “Unless you snitch me out. Besides, I’ll still be exercising, except that I’ll be getting trained by a guy who’s an expert. And we’ll be using real equipment instead of that outdated junk in the field house.”
    Goose looked distracted. He gazed across the cafeteria and raised a hand.
    â€œWho are you waving at?” Wendell asked.
    â€œI don’t know. Some chick over there’s waving at us. You guys know who she is?”
    Jesse turned around. “Yeah. That’s Wally Morúa.”
    â€œNo, man,” Goose said, frowning. “Not the dude with the San Antonio Spurs jersey. The bald chick behind him.”
    â€œThat’s her name. Wally Morúa.”
    â€œAre you kidding me?” Goose said. “What kind of parents would name their daughter Wally?”
    â€œMaybe they got the idea from that singer who wrote a song about a boy named Sue,” Wendell joked.
    Jesse explained to the guys about Wally and Duck.
    â€œHey, if you want another dog, I know a guy who breeds pit bulls,” Goose said. “I can get you one, if you’d like.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” Jesse said. “If I was to get a pit bull, it would probably eat my grandparents’ dog, Pollo, for lunch and their cat, Gremlin, for dessert.” He watched Wally and some other girls get up from their table to dump their trash.
    Goose noticed Jesse staring at Wally. “Hey, if you’re interested in that bald chick, maybe you can bring her to my party.”
    â€œWhat party?” Jesse