Hate Every Beautiful Day
Chapter 3
By: Makena
Benji stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked out onto the football field. He stood by the small metal bench on the side line and watched a football player catch a ball and suddenly find himself on the bottom of a huge pile-up. The coach blew his whistle.
"Aaron! Get your ass off the field!"
The football player that had caught the ball stood up with the help of a team mate and handed him the ball. He took his helmet off and jogged towards the side lines where Benji stood. Ignoring Benji and going for the water cooler a few feet away, Aaron ran a hand through his sweaty, dirty blond hair.
"Aaron?" Benji asked, walking towards the jock. Aaron looked up at Benji and frowned in confusion.
"Yeah?"
Benji sighed. He didn't want to be there - he wanted to be at his own home, drinking or playing his guitar.
"Joel said you're a good drummer," Benji said.
"Joel...?"
"My brother?"
"Oh!" Aaron said. "Joel... you're his twin, right?"
Benji nodded. Aaron splashed his face and the top of his head with water. "Yeah, I play drums," he said finally. "Why?"
"Joel and I are kind of starting up this band, and we need a drummer," Benji explained. "We already got a bassist, and Joel and I have been playing in Acme every weekend. Anyway, we were wondering if you could come and play for us."
Aaron thought about it for a second before tossing his cup into the trash. Before he could give Benji and answer, a football came sailing in their direction. Benji ducked and it missed his head by inches, bouncing off the metal bench.
"Roll it back, Combs!" a kid yelled.
Benji frowned and picked the ball up. "Come on, Combs! Roll it back!"
Benji threw it with whatever force and strength he could find. It wasn't a bad throw, either, considering he had never played football his entire life. He squinted from the sun and looked back over at Aaron.
"Well?"
Aaron shook his head. "No."
"No?" Benji repeated. "Why?"
Aaron shrugged and began to walk out to the field when the coach had called him back in. "I don't wanna be seen with a bunch of freaks like you."
Benji frowned. He was used to names by now, but that was hardly an explanation for not wanting to be in a band. Before Benji could even think about it, he was running at Aaron and tackled him to the ground.
"Fuck, Combs!" Aaron yelled. "Get off!"
"Hey! Fuck you!" Benji yelled back. "I was trying to be nice and invite you into our band, but now I'm not asking you - I'm TELLING you. BE IN OUR BAND!"
It was then that Benji noticed the coach, blowing his whistle furiously and jogging over to the incident.
"Get off him, son!" the coach said, grabbing Benji's shoulders and forcing him to his feet. Benji struggled to get out of there - run home, get a drink. But the coach had a firm hold on Benji's shirt and didn't let go until Benji had calmed himself down.
"What's your name, son?" the coach asked. Benji scowled and tried to straighten his shirt out.
"Benji," he replied. "Combs."
"That was some tackle, Combs," the coach said. "We sure could use you on the football team."
Aaron sat up and brushed his already dirty and grass stained uniform off. He glared at Benji briefly before turning away towards the bleachers where a girl in a black denim skirt with fishnet tights and a black hoodie was sitting. Benji frowned - it was Makena and Aaron was starting to talk to her.
"What do you say about joining the football team, son?"
Benji's attention snapped back to the coach and the situation around him. "No," Benji said, trying to push his way out. "I have to go."
Benji pushed his way out of the small crowd that had gathered around him and walked towards the school building.
-----
Benji got home and found himself alone again. He couldn't imagine where Joel could have gone, and he could only assume his mother was at work. Sighing, Benji put his back pack down on the couch and walked to the fridge where he grabbed himself a beer. He snapped it open, and four or five more beers later Joel came home.
"Where were you?" Benji asked his brother in a somewhat slurred voice. Joel frowned at his brother's drunkenness and tried to avoid him. "Okay," Benji said. "Ignore me, then."
Joel sighed and watched his brother crawl onto the couch. He didn't click the TV on or sit down with something to read. He simply just sat there. "I went to Paul's house," Joel said. "He played some shit for me on his bass and we talked about stuff for our band." He paused.
Benji sighed and got up from the couch. "Oh," he said, walking to the fridge.
"He's going to play with us on Saturday," Joel continued, watching Benji extract another beer from the refrigerator. "I think you've had enough tonight."
Benji ignored his brother's last comment and snapped his sixth beer open. Joel watched painfully as his brother drank his life away, just as their father had done.
"Benji," Joel said softly. "I think you've had enough for tonight."
"I'm fine, Joel," Benji slurred, stumbling back to the couch where he finished his beer off easily.
"Doubtful," Joel muttered. Benji jumped to his feet and threw the bottle against the wall. Joel ducked as glass shards flew every which way.
"Fuck, Benji!" Joel cried, looking at the pieces of glass that lie around him. "When the hell are you going to realize you're no better than dad? You're just another fuck up..."
Joel turned around and walked to their bedroom before Benji could respond in any way. Benji threw another bottle against the wall.
"Fuck!" he yelled randomly out of anger and drunkenness. He sat back down on the couch and set his head in his hands, staring down at the carpet blankly. He hated who he had become and he hated everything around him.