Stay Woke

Chapter 1: Friday- Go Sports!

P LEASE CHARGE PHONE ! PLEASE CHARGE PHONE! PLEASE CHARGE PHONE!

My obnoxious cellphone pulled me back into reality. I’d selected Miley Cyrus’ voice instead of the default setting. Before then, it was Morgan Freeman, but his soothing voice didn’t do so great as an alarm clock. Miley begged for me to extend my arm and feel around for my charger... so that’s exactly what I did. Once I’d plugged in the device, she finally shut up and I was able to think clearly. Wow, these sheets are soft...

I looked at my forearm. 9:40! I’d completely forgotten to set an alarm the night before. In fact, I’d fallen asleep while binge-watching the sixth season of Rick and Morty. I overpowered the bed’s magnetic pull and got to my feet. Then, I began walking toward the kitchen, but the charger’s cord wouldn’t allow it. You see, my cellphone had been implanted into my arm. It’s a whole thing... Anyway, I needed to get a move on, so I stared impatiently at the phone as it counted backward from thirty seconds. That’s how long it took to get a full charge and it’d keep Miley quiet for the next twenty-four hours. Unfortunately, the device couldn’t run on blood... yet.

The suburban home was dead. My parents had scurried off long ago to the denser part of the city. My mother sat at a long, rectangular table and sipped coffee while her boss carried on about how they needed to level the playing field with the company’s top competitor. My father sipped coffee, too... except he’d set up camp at a café. He read through the paragraph that he’d left off at the day before and then continued working on his manuscript.

Miley announced, Battery full. I unplugged myself and spread open the blinds. Sunlight poured through revealing a crystal-clear sky and the same street view I’d had since birth. Another beautiful day. Before stepping into the shower, I made sure the water was boiling. The shower woke me up by fifteen percent according to my Forephone. Gotta have good hygiene for the ladies... I was only kidding myself. I’d been terrible with girls. I couldn’t put my finger onto exactly why, but I think my teammates were starting to worry about me. Scent had proven to elevate mood and increase attractiveness, so I figured that it couldn’t hurt.

I scrolled through my music app and pressed shuffle on a Good Vibes playlist. Then, I migrated into the kitchen to scramble eggs and to fry turkey bacon. A fresh pot of coffee brewed beside me. The aromas blended together and reminded me of intoxicating adventures to IHOP. Coach always made a point for us not to drink anything other than gallons of water and Gatorade on gameday, but I was a rebel as well as an addict. I added creamer and chugged. This woke me up by another thirty percent. The speaker upstairs blasted Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People. The song lyrics made me question its spot in the Good Vibes playlist. However, I turned a blind eye because the upbeat melody had me sliding around the wooden floor in nothing but my socks and boxers in no time. Admittedly, the song did make me nervous about going to school...

Speaking of school, that’s exactly where I needed to be. There was a certain amount of time that you had to be present to be considered eligible for sporting events. Rules schmules... I threw on a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Then, I climbed into Daisy and headed for the locker room.

Once inside my sanctuary, I walked four lockers down from the end. My jersey suspended on its hanger. It was scratched and had random paint from other teams, but that was alright. There was a goodie bag in the upper compartment and a note wishing me luck from one of the cheerleaders. I thought, Don’t mind if I do, and stuffed a few Jolly Ranchers into my pocket. Dull green and black walls surrounded me. I tossed the jersey over my head and tucked it in real nice. Then, I went to the nearest mirror and combed a few hairs into place.

I almost forgot to introduce myself. The name is Cole Soto... Starting quarterback for the Jackson Academy Knights’ class of 2020. It was mid-December... My favorite time of the year. Christmas was right around the corner. However, Texans didn’t care about building snowmen. They cared about football... and we were deep into the playoffs. We’d dreamt of clinching the region title since Pee Wee. Now, we were only two wins away. The Knights hadn’t been to the playoffs since my brother graduated three years before and we’d already surpassed their team’s progress by quite a bit. We were on our way to making history... You could call us the Lewis and Clark of Jackson Academy... and I was super excited to be part of something so special.

I took the usual route to my Graphic Design elective. It was in the main computer lab. The classroom was locked because I was late. It’s for safety reasons apparently. So, I scanned my Forephone and the door unlocked. When I walked in, I felt pupils look up from their monitors. I strolled to the third row and sat down at the first computer. Just make it through the rest of the day and it’s the weekend... Options presented themselves to me like one of those choose your own storyline video games. Normally, I’d search for a website with games that hadn’t been blocked by the school. Today, I figured I’d spice things up and study St. Peter’s game film.

The St. Peter’s Prep Pirates resided in the neighboring city of Flum Creek. The Pirates had the best defense in the area, so our teams were stark opposites. Our offense was the best and our defense was mediocre at best. Because of this, there was a lot of hype for the game. Last year we’d played on their turf and lost by a field goal in overtime. This year’s game would take place in Jackson. Playoff games always drew a huge crowd so I was kind of hoping that a few scouts would come out and watch.

I watched their linebacker make a bone-crushing tackle on the screen. Then, I unwrapped one of my Jolly Ranchers. Our teacher, Mrs. Morales, said, I hope that isn’t food in the computer lab, Cole...

I replied, No ma’am and sucked on the voluptuous blue raspberry flavored candy. An obnoxious sneeze came from across the room. I didn’t think anything of it... It’s natural after all. It might’ve killed a few brain cells, but most of the people in that room didn’t have any left to lose.

Somebody politely blessed the sneezer. Griffith, one of my closest friends, sat beside me. He leaned over and whispered, I don’t get why people acknowledge sneezes... Griffith Porter had lived down the street from me ever since moving to Jackson in the sixth grade. He was a skinny, freckled ginger destined to become valedictorian.

Not taking my eyes off the screen, I replied, I think Christians believed that it released demons or some shit.

Griffith’s boredom wouldn’t allow for a cease and desist. He wondered, Doesn’t your heart temporarily stop mid-sneeze?

I told him, I’m pretty sure it pumps continuously or you’re dead.

Griffith’s even nerdier cousin Sean threw in his two cents from another seat down. That’s a myth... It originated during the bubonic plague to wish health upon someone who’d sneezed because sneezing was one of the main symptoms. Now, it’s just viewed as polite... whatever that means. He was nerdier in the sense that he locked himself inside his room all day and talked smack to online gamers. I think he also had Asperger’s and could remember any factoid that he’d come across. I was jealous. However, he could’ve been trolling me... I didn’t know much about the condition.

Mrs. Morales let out a long, Shhhhh, so I decided to quit entertaining the conversation.

Griffith joked, Maybe it shouldn’t hold a place in modern society... Who do I have to email to get it to disappear?

I said, Your mother...

These nasty people better not get me sick! It was flu season after all. Once things had quieted down, Taylor sneezed from the front row. It sounded like a mouse squeak and I couldn’t help but consider that she might’ve done it to sound more ladylike. A chorus of bless you sang out from every soul in the room... Griffith included. What a hypocrite.

Taylor Watts was without a doubt the prettiest girl in school. I had my suspicions to believe that was the reason why she’d received so many blessings. Pretty girl privilege was definitely a thing and she probably wouldn’t have too hard of a time finding a job in the future because of it. Her boss would probably text her inappropriately or make weird comments, but what are you going to do? Taylor had curly blonde hair and big brown eyes. Her teeth were perfectly straight and as white as snow. She was excluded from the gross people category that I’d mentioned previously. In fact, I’d already forgotten that she’d sneezed. I was daydreaming about the two of us out in nature eating strawberries. You might be able to say I had a tiny crush on her... nothing too serious.

Griffith interrupted my daydream. Have you still not asked her out?

I looked at him sideways. You know I haven’t... Why even bother asking?

I don’t know... Maybe it’ll light a fire under your ass one of these days and singe a few hairs... Then, you’ll do it. Also, it’s been three weeks. She’s officially fair game.

I said, What about you and what’s-her-name?

It’s in the works.

Right...

Honestly, I was pretty bummed that I hadn’t worked up enough courage to ask Taylor to Homecoming a few weeks earlier. She could’ve even been my girlfriend by the time we played against the Pirates. Then, I was back to fantasizing. Taylor was up in the bleachers filling out a shirt with my name on the back quite nicely. She even screamed whenever I’d make a first down. When I’d brought it up in the smoke circle, nobody took it seriously. I mean, I’d done it since Junior High. I’d be sitting in the bleachers with a cutie while I cheered for the Knights and threw skittles at the back of my friends’ heads. Things were different now, though. We were supposed to be in mature relationships. My best friend Bradley Jones was going on a whole year with his girlfriend.

Bradley was our fullback. He was a stocky guy with brown hair always slicked to the side. He’d been a member of this particular smoke circle. Griffith was the other member. I didn’t want to ask Taylor in the same way that I’d asked any of the other girls. Traditionally, guys bought markers and a blank poster and wrote something cheesy... or they bought a pizza and spelled out HOCO? with pepperoni. I needed to be more creative.

Bradley suggested that I sprint into the front office and take out Griffith with a flying tackle as he read through the morning announcements. Then, I was to grab the microphone and ask Taylor to be my date over the loudspeaker.

Griffith whined, You don’t have to tackle me for Christ’s sake! I’d let you say something if you wanted to.

Bradley insisted, Where’s the creativity in that? He has to tackle you... Bonus points if you break a bone. A major flaw in Bradley’s plan was me not actually getting to see Taylor’s reaction. Plus, public rejection wasn’t really my thing. When I pointed this out, his genius solution was to be an alpha and assume that she said yes. Who’d be crazy enough to say no? he’d said.

I told him that was an awful perspective on consent. However, I wished I had a similar mentality. I was a catch after all. Unfortunately, I wasn’t even man enough to walk up to her and ask her. That’d be the simplest route. I figured I’d choke or something.

Griffith had been silently typing on his Forephone. He said, She’d probably reject you... She’s literally an angel.

I replied, Wow... Thanks, guys. What are friends for?

Griffith continued, Sorry... You’re right. By the way, I put a reminder into my phone for three weeks. If you haven’t asked her out by then, she’s fair game for the rest of us.

I scoffed. Good luck with that, Dumb and Dumber.

Bradley chuckled. I could get that easily... but I’m happily taken. Look, man. At the end of the day, you don’t need anyone’s validation. This isn’t math class with some perfect equation on how to score a girlfriend. You just got to make shit happen. Joe Rogan’ll tell you that. Joe Rogan was pretty much God to the kid.

The bell rang for lunch, so I logged off and gathered my things. Mrs. Morales announced, Quiz on Monday! Make sure to study!

I watched David Eastwood stop by Taylor’s desk on his way out. He told her, Don’t worry... I’m gonna score a touchdown just for you tonight.

Yeah. If I throw you the ball, asshole. She rolled her eyes at him, but I could tell that she enjoyed the attention. Griffith and I walked past them and strolled through the halls together.

You think y’all will win tonight? he asked.

I said, I sure hope so.

The hallways were blank and lifeless. The only thing that added any sort of variety to our prison was a large bulletin board that had been put up on Monday. The board posted the names of seniors who had been accepted into college underneath their university’s logo. There were birds, bears, alligators, and all sorts of animals. Dollar signs seemed more appropriate. My name wasn’t on the board. I hadn’t bothered to apply. I’d been so focused on football that I didn’t know where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do. That didn’t keep my mom from annoying the hell out of me. Maybe I’d be a writer like my dad. A high idea or a highdea of mine had already turned into like two chapters. So far, it was about a female traffic cop who got a sugar daddy and traveled across the world.

Once football was over, however, I’d be forced to grow up... especially if I didn’t get any offers. Bradley and I wanted to go to the same school and play ball together. We’d been an incredible duo since Pee Wee. I couldn’t imagine what we could accomplish in college. The parties. The prestige. The pussy. I thought back to the first day of class in third grade. Bradley was sitting alone at a lunch table. He was extremely focused as he drew weapons inside of a notebook. I sat down beside him, and we talked. Well, he did most of the talking. He told me stories about paintball and airsoft wars that he’d had with his friends.

He’d said, He put up his arms to surrender and I shot him right in the bicep with my M4. He called his mom to pick him up and we haven’t talked since! Then, he laughed so hard that milk came out of his nose.

One Friday after school, his mom picked us up and we ate at Pizza Hut before going over to his house for an airsoft war. He kept repeating, You’re really fast, dude... You’re even faster than Luke. Bradley told Mr. Jones all about my speed after he’d gotten off of work. Mr. Jones took my head out of the books long enough for me to see how great the sport really was. He coached our Pee Wee team and taught me all the rules. The rest was history...

Griffith and I hadn’t said much in the halls. I liked people that I could be quiet around and it wouldn’t get awkward. We skipped the lunch line that had already formed and joined the rest of the team.

For shame, said one of the lunchroom monitors. It took me a second to realize that he was talking to us. This was a ritual... Why complain about it today of all days? I think it had something to do with suppressed feelings about his childhood as a geek. I wasn’t ashamed of a little privilege. He’d take advantage of it too if he was given the chance.

I turned around and brushed it off. However, Griffith just stared down the older gentleman. Turn your toothpick ass around, I ordered. He wasn’t part of the team, but we treated him as such. I wanted to keep him out of trouble. He surprised me sometimes. It’s like the kid had an alter ego or something... a real Jekyll and Hyde. He’d be goody-two-shoes and happy one minute and then turn into a complete hoodlum with rage issues the next. His strict mother wasn’t impressed. The only time I’d been physically disciplined at school, his scrawny butt was right beside me getting paddled, too. Of course, I’d made sure to get revenge on that principal. When I helped set up for the Junior High dance, he gave me his keys to get something out of the supply closet. I took my chance and plopped my testicles down onto his whistle. Every time there was a noisy cafeteria, he’d blow on that thing and it’d give me a little bit of satisfaction.

Now, I’d graduated to a different lunchroom with bitter old men. Mr. Monitor actually thought his opinion mattered like he was Judge Judy or something. I grabbed a burger and tater tots and made my way to the middle table. The lunch table’s roster included a few of my closest friends. There was Bradley, Griffith, Jason, Brucey, and me. We were always super rowdy on gameday. Unfortunately, that tradition died hard. Things needed to stay cool, so we didn’t have a repeat of the last Friday. Our free safety Jason had to sit out the whole first quarter because he’d stood on an empty table across the cafeteria and held a trashcan high in the air. The idea was to make it into the hole, naturally... However, Bradley wasn’t too good about having ideas. He chucked the football while I was in the lunch line getting a second helping. Allegedly, the distance was there, but his aim was off. The ball bounced off the tile and thumped an emo kid in the back of the head. This caused everybody to tense up. The last thing anyone wanted was a school shooting.

Long story short, Principal King saw the whole thing and confiscated my favorite football. Jason had to deal with the consequences while Principal King turned a blind eye towards Bradley. It had to have been because of Bradley’s significance to the team. Principal King claimed to not have seen who threw it, but that was a wagon full of crap because even if he hadn’t, the cameras surely had. Privilege? Maybe. It’s just the way that things were. We ended up winning that game, although not by much. This game was even more important, so we needed everyone eligible. I distracted my friends with an anecdote that exposed Griffith’s Junior High masturbation routine. He’d told me in confidence that he used Crest toothpaste to relieve himself. However, nobody was safe in the cafeteria.

Griffith justified, The burn felt good... Don’t knock it until you try it.

That only made the others laugh harder. Jason showed Bradley screenshots of a text message conversation. He said, See! There’s proof right there... She gave me head inside the theatre.

Bradley narrowed his eyes at the rectangular screen. Okay, fine. I believe you.

You should’ve believed me when I told you earlier...

I wasn’t very hungry since I’d just eaten breakfast. Griffith wondered, What are y’all boys doing this weekend?

I said, We’re getting wasted and celebrating our win... duh. Where have you been?

I’ve been sick, asshole.

My bad.

"Anyway... what about between hangovers? Do y’all want to maybe watch The Purge? We could bring some hunnies."

Jason announced, First of all, don’t sit in seat 14 or 15 in theatre number 2. Second of all, I’ve already made it to the furthest base possible in a movie theatre so why even bother? A home run is way too risky... The law doesn’t approve of it for some reason. Fourth of all... Wait, third of all, you don’t get hunnies. And fourth of all, that movie is weird, man. It makes me think about how corrupt the world might be.

Griffith began to pout. Might be? More like definitely is... closeminded prick.

Jason fired back, What’d you say?

I backed up Griffith. You probably don’t like thinking about how black your lungs are getting from those cigs... It doesn’t change the fact that it’s happening. I added, While the vibes are off... the team has been talking... You can’t keep getting burnt so often, man. Coach likes you too much to tell you that but it’s costing us big time.

I was referring to the week before when the Wombats scored on him to steal back momentum. Jason scoffed and replied, About the lungs... Why not use ‘em if you got ‘em? About the game, maybe small things like that wouldn’t matter so much if you’d score more often and quit relying on the defense.

I didn’t like the way that he spoke in bullet points. Also, he was being completely delusional. What he said about the defense being better was ass-backward and everyone knew it. I squinted my eyes coldly. He returned a glare of his own. Griffith attempted to cool things off. It’s what he did. You both make valid points... Why buy a video game if you’re not gonna take the CD out of its case? That analogy didn’t even really make sense in this context. Now, I was glaring at him. Where’s your loyalty? Griffith noticed my ugly look and continued, "But you’re also wrong, Jason. The Purge looks dope and it’s part of our history."

Bradley agreed that it was weird to make a movie about something that had ended so many lives and changed the course of our country forever. He stated, But there’s violence so I’m in... Plus, there’s a chance that I might get head in the back.

Jason commented, It’s not bad... Doesn’t top gettin’ some strange in a dirty ally, though. Come to think of it... nothing does.

The Purge had a profound impact on American history. In fact, it disbanded the country altogether. I wasn’t sure what this movie had in store, but my dad had told me something about the real event back in 2001. Honestly, the subject was pretty taboo.

One night over brews while vacationing in Colorado, he’d said, "This is gonna sound like the setup to a bad joke but it’s not... A Hollywood director went into a bar. He’d thought about an idea for a script earlier in the day and he wanted some unbiased feedback. He was a bit insecure since his last script had smelled like moldy cheese. So, the director pitched this movie to a random guy at the bar. There were a few holes in the plot and the alcohol had caused him to drag on about certain details, but that’s alright.

The random drunkard was very impressed. He even rated it a 9/10. The two hung out for another hour or so before going their separate ways. It just so happens that the audience member was a Senator. Two days later, the Senator stood in front of many powerful men and proposed a bill that would enforce this holiday. The Purge would allow citizens to break free from the monotony that is life... Then, everyone would go back to being productive members of society the next day with blood underneath their fingernails.

The Purge was a day where most crime was legal. The purpose was to reduce crime during the remainder of the year. Dad continued, "The Senator spoke well. The overrepresented white males knew that the population had been high since the latest boom. They knew that cities were getting crowded. The clock was ticking, and something needed to be done. So, they nodded their heads along with the Senator and accepted this as a viable option. The other options were war, spraying chemicals from airplanes, and poisoning the water supply. Clearly, the levels of nitrogen already in the water weren’t doing enough.

So, the bill made its way down the chain. No veto was made by the president and it stuck. It didn’t work, though... and that’s when 11/09 was initiated as Plan B. Solvagistan was basically used as a pawn to kill a good chunk of our male population. Looking back on it, Pearl Harbor might’ve been staged, too... Who ignores a fleet of kamikazes while there’s a massive war going on overseas? War means money for some people, son. Anyway, now I’m just rambling... I think I’m gonna hit the hay. I’m not really supposed to tell you these things, so don’t mention it to mom... A guy ought to know... Goodnight.

The intercom flicked on. Principal King’s deep voice came over the speakers requesting everyone’s attention. Conversation around the room faded. Good afternoon, students... It has come to the school’s attention that there’ve been an unusual number of deaths in Jackson over the past twenty-four hours. As of this moment, we aren’t certain of what’s going on. I know that the flu is going around, but this appears to be different... I suspect another virus. I’m not saying this to freak anyone out. However, the virus has already proven itself to be deadly... so we need to be taking this seriously. The district continues to advise everyone to wash their hands frequently and limit contact with one another. As of now, this won’t affect the remainder of the school day, the pep rally, or tonight’s game. We’ll update you as soon as we get any more information... Go, Knights!

When the intercom hung up, murmurs spread around the cafeteria. I’d expected a normal announcement such as, I’m Principal King and my daughter’s nudes are being passed around by sophomore boys. Yeah... Small school. Aiesha was in a few of my classes. That’s how I’d heard about it... but I was just as surprised as everybody else by this announcement. Jason said, You have got to be kidding me! They’re gonna scare off all of our fans! Nobody wants to go to a high school football game and come home with AIDS.

His argument didn’t appear too sound. It probably wasn’t anything like AIDS. Plus, this was Texas high school football. People would die for it. People have died for it.

Bradley shook his head nice and slow. I’m pretty sure it got my neighbors... Both of ‘em died last night.

Brucey asked, The Fosters? He’d been unusually quiet that day. He was busy flipping through a pamphlet about joining the Marines. Brucey was our giant offensive guard. Since becoming obsessed with the armed forces, he’d sported a blonde buzz cut.

Bradley nodded. Yep... Damn ambulances woke me up. Apparently, their daughter came by with coffee... but they wouldn’t wake up.

That’s wild, said Brucey.

The Fosters were an older couple. I used to see Mr. Foster all the time when I went over to Bradley’s. He was always outside working in his garden. Mrs. Foster had cancer and was kind of a recluse. It was only a matter of time before she’d pass on, but it didn’t make any sense that the two would pass on during the same night.

Griffith tried blaming the aliens. It wasn’t the time. However, it was a common occurrence. While everyone bought into the dramatic announcement, I decided to think like a true conspiracy theorist. Could it be a distraction like the Alobe virus? The Alobe virus was the only thing anybody talked about for a while. Then, it disappeared off the face of the Earth. Is it because it’s an election year? It was my first time being able to vote and my favorite candidate had already dropped out of the race. Now, the two most popular candidates were sexual predators. Are they distracting us because we’re on the brink of a nuclear war with Solvagistan? Is that a distraction in itself? The Cold War phenomenon has occurred many times throughout history... Nobody was stupid enough to put an end to the world no matter how embarrassed they were about the size of their clitoris. This was why war didn’t belong in modern society. We were doing enough destruction already. However, peace seemed unobtainable and the Cold War phenomenon did a great job of guiding people into a state of fear. Like a deer freezes in headlights... we can’t think or act rationally when we’re micro-dosing shock.

The bell rang so I mindlessly headed for English class. My life was run on a pretty tight-knit schedule most of the time. Builds discipline, Principal King would say. That guy sucked... He was more like a tyrant than a principal. It wasn’t all his fault, though. The school system could be better. I wouldn’t mind sitting back in a chill environment and reading books that actually interest me rather than being in class with kids that pick their noses. Yes, I know that sounds exactly like a library... but what’s with the report card obsession? Bunch of GPA fiends... They wanted the smartest kids out here sucking dick for extra credit. Not literally... but shouldn’t self-improvement be more heavily emphasized than numbers? Also, being forced to listen to somebody explain core subjects was whack... I hated physics. I didn’t