Loossers [BEST]

Leo sat with that for a long moment. Then he stood up, walked to the pond, and pulled his sneaker out of the sludge. It made a sound like a kiss.

And that, he decided, was enough.

He didn’t say, “You’ll get ‘em next time,” because they both knew there wouldn’t be a next time. This was the last game of the last season of Leo’s high school career. Four years. Twelve wins. Thirty-four losses. Tonight, they had broken the school record—not for points, but for the largest margin of defeat in a championship game that never was. loossers

Sal nodded, then pointed his thumb toward the gym. “You know that trophy case inside? The big one, with the gold football and the championship banners?” Leo sat with that for a long moment

He walked to the far end of the field, where the goalpost rusted and the track was cracked. He sat on the grass and watched the lights of the gymnasium flicker off, one by one. The janitor, an old man named Sal who’d worked at the school since before Leo was born, came out with a bucket of soapy water and a mop. And that, he decided, was enough

“You lost?” Sal asked, leaning on his mop handle.