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Wesley South ran a hand through his damp hair, forcing the thick locks back over his forehead and out of his eyes so he could scan the playing field in full view.

A player of the opposing color ran straight at him from the left, so he immediately dived out of the way with the football clutched firmly in his arms, and one hand securely placing his helmet down on his head.

He could hear his coach screaming something in his direction, but he couldn't make out a single word. He was too busy running as fast as he could in the opposite direction, heading for the goal posts shaped like a big, leering letter 'V' on the opposite side.

He sprinted the length of the field, dodging legions of green-clothed football players to slide through the opening.

Touchdown...

He closed his eyes for a beat, but his face remained stony and cold. In a few seconds, the rest of the players all piled around him and covered him in a jostling pile of red, orange and white. Their arms enclosed him in a cage on the lawn as his team and the rest of Lakewood streamed onto the field.

Wesley pushed himself up on one elbow and slightly turned his head to the left. He could see the other team, rejection written on their faces, dejectedly throwing down their chest guards and beating the floor with their fists.

Better them than me, he thought. 

As soon as the rest of his team got off of him, he slapped on a false, cheery smile and pumped a hand in the air.

"Lakewood!"

The cheering renewed, this time accentuated with screams and whistles as everyone surged forward to raise their hands as well and join in the victory.

Wesley suppressed a sigh and tried to look excited about the entire ordeal. It just wouldn't do for the school's football captain to look nothing other than cocky, happy, confident, and strong. Especially after winning a game.

But Wesley was none of those things. All he wanted to do was go home to his mother and make sure nothing happened. Every day was a miracle day for her.

He needed to go.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

He maneuvered his body past the hordes of screaming highschoolers, raising his arms over heads and smiling like a lunatic all the while.

When he finally managed to make it to the other side of the mass, he tripped over his own untied shoes and stumbled right into the last person he ever wanted to stumble into.

The base of his palms connected with a pair of small, round shoulders, and his eyes met a pair of deceivingly wide and innocent ones.

"Hey, Wes. I saw you out there from the bleachers. You were like really good."

Wesley pursed his lip, took off his helmet and put on another one of his fake, dazzling smiles.

"You did, did you? Didn't look as bad from up there."

Gwen Goldstorm's lips curved up in a small smile and she pulled up her pair of tinted shades.

"I bet it didn't. Still. You were amazing."

Wesley put the palm of his hand up his neck and looked around as if he was searching for something.

"Yeah. You know, I need to-"

"Want to come to the Honey Bowl with me? I'll let you buy me a sundae."

Gwen curled a piece of auburn hair around a finger and flirtatiously bit her lip. Wesley quickly averted his eyes and inwardly groaned. 

She'd been subtly asking him out all week. When was she ever going to get the hint? He just wasn't ready for a relationship yet. And if he was, he doubted she'd be one of the first people he'd go to.

Wesley put on a thoughtful expression and slowly shook his head.

"Oh, Gwen...You know I'd love to. But I really got to get home today. Work and all..."

He didn't specify exactly what work he was referring to, but was silently praying she wouldn't ask.

To his relief, she didn't. She only looked mildly disappointed.

"Yeah. I...Get it...Uh..."

She put out a hand. "Just call me when you're free. Promise?"

He nodded. "Yeah, sure."

That was a lie. He wasn't ever going to willingly call Gwendoline Goldstorm. Not if his life depended on it.

When he saw her walk a good distance away from him, Wesley resumed his pace across the field and ran down the street as soon as he was out of public eye. He tilted back his head and took in a big gulp of fresh air.

After a moment, he took the second intersection to the right and walked past block after block until he reached 82nd.

The windows were intact and the door was shut tight. He took it as a good sign.

The house key was buried underneath the potted plants. As Wesley rummaged around the soil for it, he couldn't help but think how basic and predictable it was. But nothing bad had happened so far, so he had no reason to change the hiding spot.

As soon as his fingers connected with cool, hard metal, he retracted his arm and shoved the key into the lock. It opened with a click, allowing him entry into the disorderly cul-de-sac home.

Wesley flicked a light switch on, bathing the house in a warm glow.

"Mom?"

He heard a loud crack issue from the living room. He dropped his duffel bag and sprinted past the hallway.

"Mom!?"

Another crack followed the first, then a crash, and a dull resounding thud.

"Mom!"

Wesley stood in the doorway with his mouth hanging open. The wall behind the TV was fully smashed in, an ax hanging out of the upholstery. A thin, middle-aged woman was gripping onto the end of the ax with her jaw set determinedly.

"Oh, hello there Wesley sweetheart! I was just making a few renovations! This wall seems oh so old, doesn't it? Could use some sprucing up-"

She raised the ax into the air once more, but Wesley quickly lunged forward to pull it out of her grasp.

"No! Mom...I've told you before. No sharp objects. Why aren't you in bed?"

Wesley's mother grinned almost manically and brought the tips of her fingers together.

"Don't be silly. The night is still young! It would be stupid of me to be asleep on such a beautiful day."

Wesley inhaled sharply and threw the ax to the side.

"I'll take you upstairs and read you a story."

His mother crossed her arms and pouted like a stubborn child.

"Wesley! Sweetie! I've already told you, I don't need-"

"I'll read you Robin Hood," Wesley said softly, gripping onto his mother's wrists. He tried not to look down. They were only just starting to scab from all the places she'd cut herself.

Immediately Mrs. South's mouth went slack and her eyes glazed over.

"Robin Hood?"

Wesley nodded. "Yes. Robin Hood. We'll read all about the King, and the squire and the princess..."

Mrs. South smiled. "Your father always used to say he'd be my Robin Hood. I wonder where he went. Maybe he's fighting off the bad guys..."

Wesley returned her smile, grimly patting her shoulder.

He just didn't have the heart to remind her that Mr. South was dead. He was dead and never coming back to fend off all the bad guys and ride out the storm with them. They'd never see his smile, hear his reassurances, or be able to listen to his advice.

Wesley was in this alone.