The Ongoing Reformation of Micah Johnson Read Online Free PDF Page B

alone on the field, Howard bent and picked up a ball lying at his feet. “Help me get the equipment.”
    Great, a punishment.
    “I know things haven’t been easy lately,” Howard said, grabbing a mesh bag to put the balls in. “But you’re not making it easy, either.”
    “What, by existing? I have tried everything with those guys.”
    “You haven’t tried at all.”
    “That’s bullshit!”
    “Watch your mouth!”
    “There’s been worse said on the field. And in the change rooms. And on my Facebook.”
    “If you paint yourself as a victim, that’s all you’ll ever be.”
    Of course he would go the victim route. Because victims wanted to be victims, right? It was so much fun. “You don’t understand,” Micah said, knowing it was a typical moody teenager’s response, but it didn’t make it any less truthful. How could Howard know anything about what he was going through? He didn’t even try to understand—or else he would have been doing more to try and integrate Micah with the team, and make some attempt at hauling their arses over the coals and getting them to behave.
    “Every kid on the team has problems. You’re not special, Johnson.”
    “And if you can’t see the difference in my situation, then you’re a fucking lousy coach.” Micah spat it out before he could stop himself, and the insult hung heavily in the air between them.
    Howard almost dropped the bag of balls. “Get out of my sight. Get your shit together, or else the team will get exactly what they want—you off it.”
    Micah resisted yelling a fuck you as he left the oval. There was no fucking point.
    He had to get out of this school. Maybe he could even approach Carla, the principal at the school he’d addressed yesterday, and see if he could get a transfer. They didn’t have the best football team, but it was so close to the draft, it probably wouldn’t matter. Carla might not be his biggest fan at the moment, but even she would be able to see the worth of a good footballer who could also help lead the new GSA they were implementing.
    Hell, he would become president of the gay-straight alliance if they wanted him to.
    Micah Johnson was finished here.
     
     
    BY THEN the change rooms were almost empty—nobody wanted to hang around much anymore in case they gave the gay guy some form of jollies, or a quick glimpse of their butt that could be stored in the spank bank for use later. They showered, dressed, and disappeared.
    But Bailey Olsen was standing shirtless at his locker. When he saw Micah, he grew panicked and threw his shirt on.
    “Oh, relax,” Micah said on his way through. “Your birdcage chest does nothing for me.”
    “Arsehole!” Bailey spat.
    “I’m pretty sure your arsehole won’t do anything for me either.”
    Rather than continue the fight, Bailey picked up his bag and left.
    “Tweet tweet!” Micah mumbled to himself. He would have felt sorry for Bailey, if he’d actually cared enough. It was so easy to disarm and scare away straight seventeen-year-old boys. At the moment it seemed to be Micah’s superpower.
    Micah fumbled with his locker and pulled out his clothes. He stripped down to his boxers and shoved his muddy football gear into his sports bag. The air was cool, and he was looking forward to a hot shower. He grabbed his towel and turned to find he wasn’t alone.
    It turned out his prime suspect for cyberbullying was still there. Will Deanes, a towel wrapped around his waist, was still wet from the shower as he stood by his locker staring at Micah. Micah suddenly became aware of his own near nakedness and for a moment felt exposed and vulnerable.
    Until he saw a flush spread over Will that Micah would swear in a court of law had nothing to do with the hot water Will had just been under.
    And he didn’t feel vulnerable any longer. He had the power again. Micah Johnson was in control of the situation, and his bravado was stronger than his actual bravery.
    “Hello,” he practically