I moved closer to where Foster stood. “You’re probably right,” I said, but I didn’t know how much truth there was to it.
Ezra didn’t return after his conversation with Mr. Sellers and Coach. Instead, he turned and headed toward the team locker rooms. They had their own building, a little, one-story cinder block setup right next to the field.
I looked at Foster. We both peeled away from the class and headed that way, careful to keep out of Mr. Sellers’ sight line.
Foster went straight into the locker room. I paused for a moment. I didn’t know exactly when Ezra’s business became our business, but somehow it had. So I followed.
“Ezra?”
I had never been in the team locker room before. The only difference I noted was that they didn’t have shower curtains, which was weird. And, of course, the wealth of urinals, which was gross.
Ezra was standing at an open locker, his back to us.
“Is it true?” Foster asked. “Was there an accident?”
“Yeah.” Ezra turned. He was holding a practice jersey. His eyes were dry. “Yeah, Lake Falls’ captain died.”
“Oh no.” Foster voiced what I couldn’t. My insides felt frozen. “How?”
“Car accident. They think he was drunk.”
“Did you know him?” Foster asked.
“We did a couple of camps together.”
“Were you friends?”
A pause. “Yeah.”
“Shit,” I said.
“Do you want to cry?” Foster said.
“Foster.” Scolding Foster came natural in almost any situation.
“I’m just saying, a lot of guys don’t think it’s, like, socially acceptable to cry. But you could cry if you wanted. Because that’s dumb.”
Ezra looked at me for a split second. “I’m fine.”
“We could go to our house if you want,” Foster continued. “I have the Bill and Ted sequel.”
“It’s all right. I’m okay.” He dropped the jersey in the bottom of the locker. “You guys go ahead. I’ll be right out.”
We both lingered. Even though Ezra sounded okay, something in his eyes betrayed his words.
“I’m fine,” he said, and there was resolution in his voice. “Go on, okay?”
“Sure.” I pushed Foster ahead of me. “See you out there.”
The news spread quickly throughout the school, and by the end of the day, almost everyone had heard what happened. Lake Falls was just one town over from Temple Sterling. A lot of people had friends there, and some people, apparently, knew the boy who had died. His name was Sam Wells, I learned in my seventh-period math class. He was a senior and a three-year varsity starter, and he had already committed to Florida State.
“Oh, Devon.” I passed Cas and Lindsay in the hallway after last class. Lindsay threw her arms around me. “It’s just awful, isn’t it?”
I hugged back—what else could I do?—and said, “Yeah. Terrible.”
“I can’t imagine.” She pulled away. “I just keep thinking about the guys on their team.… What it would be like if we lost our captain…”
Her eyes welled up with tears. Cas closed her in a hug. I averted my gaze.
“We’re supposed to go to the visitation,” Foster said when I picked him up after practice. “Out of respect. That’s what Coach said. It’s Thursday afternoon. Will you take me?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t have a suit.”
“You could wear one of Dad’s, I guess,” I murmured, pulling out onto the street. “I don’t know if it’d fit, but you could always try.”
“I don’t want to wear his clothes,” Foster said.
“Why not?” When I glanced over at Foster, his face was turned to the window.
It was quiet for a moment, and then, “Because they won’t fit,” is all he said.
He settled on a dress shirt and tie for the visitation come Thursday. I didn’t dress nice, but I wasn’t planning on going in. I didn’t have a sufficient enough connection to Sam Wells to make being there feel right.
The parking lot was packed, and the only spot I could get was way down the street. I looked over at Foster after I put the car in park. He was staring at the dashboard.