Kick Off

At least I have a view. That’s always… interesting.

I’ve been living on the roof for a few weeks now, and as the weather worsens I’ve come to resent it. Pouring rain at all hours, thunder rumbling the darkening skies, wind gushing against my broken skin, bashing me over the uneven surface. It's never strong enough to take me over the edge, though. Always a barrier blocking me from escaping, from finding my Pete again.

I was sent up to the place I now call home by someone he considers a ‘friend’. What a joke. Louie is the worst, rudest and most brutal of the lot, and I shudder every time I remember his feet making contact with me. He was always the worst in the Game, and is the reason I needed mending so often.

Pete must’ve been distraught when he couldn’t find me, at the end of lunch. I couldn’t see him, but I heard him asking people if they’d seen me. I could see Louie though, trying and failing at hiding behind a tree in the distance. I knew he was laughing at us, I just knew it.

We play the Game every day. Before, during and after school, every chance we can. It’s amazing, the freedom you have when you’re flying through the air, almost weightless. It was exhausting sometimes, but I can’t sit here complaining about it now. Not when I’m stuck here.

I miss it.

It's dreadfully boring up here. It’s just over-run with moss and dead leaves, a few animal nests scattered around - luckily, they haven’t decided to use me yet. They’ve just pecked away at my seams, so I’m hanging open at the back. Battered and ruined, but not infested, not yet. A few others like me up here haven’t been so lucky, but they’ve all but given up on going home. They deserve to be broken, not me. I’m waiting for Pete, he won’t abandon me. I won’t end up like that poor softball, home to half a dozen hairless pigeons.

Not me, no way.

Living up here, secluded from the rest of the world, is lonely. I can see Pete sometimes, between classes after the bell rings itself raw. The rain makes it hard to find him, but on the good days, the dry days, he’s out there, clear as the distance between us.

He’s already replaced me. The new one, shiny and solid like a - well, a new football - is his new favourite to play with. It’s the newer brand, the one Pete pointed out in the store once, a lifetime ago now. The colours are brighter, bolder even. The stitching is so neat and tight, it was made far better than I. I’m fading into the background, but he’s the shiny new star of the show.

He must have been so upset. That’s the only reason. Pete wouldn’t have done it otherwise. Maybe it wasn’t his choice, perhaps it was his mother. She tried to get rid of me a few times too. She’s always looking out for appearances, that woman. I don’t fit, apparently.

***

The kick was hard, but the landing was far more painful.

Louie took me from Pete’s bag right after Maths. They’d been talking about playing all week, and the weather had been clear all morning for a Game. I’d been bouncing up and down all day in anticipation. I couldn’t wait to see the sun again. I like Pete a lot, but his bag was an awful place to spend so much time. It was dark, always smelled damp, and was full of biscuit crumbs and old wrappers.

He even has a new bag now. Just for the new ball. It has its own bag, to keep it clean and secure. This one has Pete’s name on it, too, so it won’t get lost. I can’t count the amount of times I was dumped, unceremoniously, in the Lost and Found. He’d always come to get me, but sometimes it seemed like he was annoyed rather than glad he found me again. I was always rolling around like mad when he got me back, though. I love Pete, he’s my best friend.

The air up here is biting. It’s no fun, stuck watching everyone go by, day by day. Sat right on the edge, not able to move. Not able to face away from the kids, running around with no care in the world. It's painful, watching them.

I’m never getting down from here.