Students of the Game by Sarah Bumpus Read Free Book Online Page A

holding plastic cups, most likely filled with beer, though Bryce is always just holding a can of diet soda. I’ve heard rumors that he has a pretty weird diet to stay in shape. There are a bunch of candid snapshots of him smiling, with Missy hanging on him like a wet shirt on a clothesline, and a whole album of what looks like the same angle (give or take a few degrees) of his Jeep Wrangler, causes me to roll my eyes.
    I click on an album entitled ‘ Family ’, and scroll through shots of Bryce holding different awards and various trophies, his smiling dad standing next to him. A few polite poses with an older couple which I assume must be his grandparents. Random shots from Christmas and various holidays with people I don’t recognize. I’m just about to close the window when I notice the very last photo. My heart yo-yo’s for a split second as I realize that it’s a shot of the two of us together. I squint and lean in closer to the screen, as it was taken from a distance and is just slightly out of focus. Bryce has blunt bangs hanging down in his eyes. He’s wearing a faded black Batman t-shirt, with fraying jean shorts, and hands stiff at his side.
    My long brown hair is down and appears to need a good brushing. I’m wearing a crisp pale yellow sundress, my hands clasped together in front. We must have been about five. Any age after that, my mom could no longer get away with controlling my wardrobe. The picture was taken on my front porch and there are two plastic sand pails set on the first step. I remember that we used them every year to collect candy, thrown from the floats in the town’s the Fourth of July Parade. There is a single comment posted for the picture and it’s from Missy;  
     
    Who’s this, your first girlfriend? She’s hot! LMAO. I might have to kick some ass.
     
    Bryce never responded, at least not publicly anyway. I look at the date, and see that he posted the picture about three years ago. Was this supposed to be a joke? Feeling aggravated for wasting time on Bryce in the first place, I shut down my computer, completely forgetting the whole reason I signed on was to message Farah. I turn over onto my back and stare at the scattering of glow-in-the-dark stars, currently a milky yellow due to the lack of darkness in the room. I silently vow to try my best to make amends this Sunday, and attempt the tutoring again. Though, it’s hard when all I can think is, I needed Bryce and he wasn’t there, so why should I help him when he needs me now?
     
     
     

CHAPTER TWELVE
     
    BRYCE
     
     
    I remember watching cartoons as a kid, the ones about superheroes, mostly. Batman was always my favorite. I’ve never really been into comic books, but man, I loved that cartoon. Now that I’m older I understand what’s so appealing about having two different aliases. One moment Bruce Wayne can just be a guy, not having to worry about saving the world, or maybe even bringing home a state championship. But when he becomes the Batman, he can just be anything, because it’s not really him. I mean, the part about doing what’s right is, but he’s hiding behind a mask. He’s putting on a show, giving people exactly what they want, and getting all the glory in the end. I just don’t know which alias to envy more.
    “Bryce? Missy is here!” My mom calls up the stairs. I reluctantly flick off the TV, throw on my mask, and make my way downstairs. It’s Friday night and I’m wondering where she’s going to drag me tonight. I’m praying that it’s not some random party being held for the sake of getting drunk. Those evenings haven’t ever ended well over the last couple of years, as my girlfriend always ends up drinking way too much, and gets pissed when I won’t sleep with her.
    “Hey.” I greet Missy at my front entry way and give her a kiss on the cheek. “Let me just get my jacket and keys.” I start to reach up to the peg rack near the door but she stops me.
    “I was thinking we could just