Nothing Special by Geoff Herbach

what I worry about most: I was so damn relieved not to have to go to that camp. How am I going to choose a college and go play football there? Why was it so easy for you to go to Berlin?
    â€¢ • •
    Okay. There it is. There’s the call. I’m boarding a plane for freaking Charlotte, North Carolina. This is now . I’m on my way.

August 16th, 12:30 p.m.
On the Way to Charlotte
    Uh…Okay…
    I’m sitting next to a very large man who is very unhappy to be stuck in the middle of two teens. (There’s a girl in black reading a zombie book on the aisle). The man is wheezing and is very gross. He just ordered a tiny bottle of wine.
    Go to Florida instead of practice football? This is where my good intentions get me: jammed against the airplane wall by a giant wine-sucking wheezer man. Huff, huff, huff. (Sound of him breathing while he stares at the side of my head.)
    â€¢ • •
    Okay, so Gus’s parents were on board with the drive to Michigan. Right?
    There was just the Jerri question left.
    It was a big question too, Aleah. First, Jerri was stung that Andrew had requested a solo bus trip to his orchestra camp (although Jerri knew not the entirety of the situation). Second, Jerri had made plans with your dad to stop in Chicago on Saturday on our drive to Ann Arbor. I sure as crap didn’t want to be at your apartment, but Jerri was very excited. (“I haven’t seen Ronald in four months!”) I didn’t think there was anyway she’d let Gus drive me.
    When Gus arrived, Jerri was in the kitchen making us some ugly looking hippie hummus and bean sprout sandwiches. (I like hummus, but I don’t like sprouts—they get stuck in my teeth and then people make crap of me—at least Abby Sauter did one time in fifth grade—“booger tooth.”) Jerri didn’t act like a nice hippie, though. When Gus and I entered the kitchen, she smiled really fake and said, “If it isn’t my favorite nicotine addict! Has your girlfriend gotten any tweens drunk lately?”
    Gus stood there with his mouth open, his face turning red. “Um. Not that I’m aware of, Jerri.”
    â€œGreat. Great to hear, Gus.”
    â€œThat’s not why we’re here, Jerri,” I said.
    â€œReally?” Jerri asked. “Why are you here? Is it because you live here, Felton?”
    â€œWhat’s with the sarcasm?”
    â€œI’m just a little angry with your little friend, I suppose,” Jerri said, glaring at Gus.
    â€œJerri,” Gus whispered. “I quit smoking. It’s bad for me. I got a hacking cough. And Maddie? She’s really crazy, you know? But she tries hard. And she’s got a good heart. She’s really a sweet person. I’m serious.”
    Gus was working Jerri. Jerri grew up a townie girl like Maddie. She couldn’t not feel for her. Gus’s lies actually made me feel kind of bad. He still smoked! Maddie did not try hard!
    Maybe she does try hard?
    Maybe she’s like me who isn’t Peyton Manning because her family (my family) is screwed up? Complicated.
    Jerri nodded. She swallowed. She stared at Gus for a moment. Then she said, “Tell her not to get eighth graders drunk, okay? It really upsets me. It’s also dangerous. Emily Cook can’t weigh more than eighty pounds, you know?”
    â€œI know, Jerri. Maddie feels bad about what happened,” Gus nodded.
    â€œThat’s not why we’re here, though, Jerri,” I said.
    â€œOkay, then. Why are you here, Felton?”
    Gus jumped in. “Something pretty cool happened today. My dad’s friend at U Mich, Hector Johns—he’s a professor there—invited me to take a campus tour while Felton’s at football camp.”
    I nodded.
    Jerri said, “Oh? That’s nice…You’re welcome to ride with us, if you’d like.”
    â€œThat’d be great, but I actually need to have my own