Darren

Darren
. . .

I had brought home an A that day but it didn't matter since it wasn't amountable to Alex's gold medal for whatever dumb science fair he had taken part in. Last time I checked only elementary school kids did that but he just has to one-up me on everything. Of course, I did slack a bit up until I hit middle school. I wanted to do school choice so that I could go to one of the better public schools in the district even though he went to a high class private high school that supposedly had an entrance exam that even he thought was hard. Now, if Alex has an issue with an exam, it's freaking ass hard.

But that didn't really matter. Nothing ever matters when it comes to Alexander Black because he's just so smart and so handsome and so freaking athletic. He's like one of those high school god-like students that everyone raves about. And his extent of popularity isn't one that is exagerrated at that. 

"I'm going to soccer practice." I announced to my parents who were sitting at the kitchen table. It was like seeing a scene from the old show The Stepford Wives. "Remember I have a game tomorrow."

They looked up from their newspapers, showed a smile that appeared to be bored and far from interested before going back to what they were doing before. Now if I was Alex, they'd be offering to drive him all the way from California to New York if they had to.  He had always been the son that had mattered the most. No matter how hard I tried. I will always be known simply as Alex's younger brother.

"I'm going now," I repeated as if they would care before I left.

Clad on my back was the jersey that I worked hard for. Maybe even harder than Alex had worked. He had a natural talent for soccer while I had to play from the time that I was six to the age that I am now. I'm sixteen, almost seventeen, yet I haven't been able to make an idenity for myself. I'm simply Alex's brother, the other kid of the Black family, not Darren Black.

*

Coach Ranford finally decided to put me in first. I had been playing for him for a year and a half before and he said that's the fastest he's been able to put a newbie on the first lineup. He told me that I'm fast. My teammates say it's because I'm slim enough to just float with the wind but I've really been trying. I couldn't let my brother show me up again. Not when I probably have come to love this sport much more than he has. Dad made him play it because this had always been his favorite sport and I followed in suit without any questioning.

"You should go hit the showers too." Ranford advised me, clapping his hand onto my shoulder. For a soccer coach, I had always thought he'd belonged on the basketball court instead. A man who's over six feet is good to have in the center.

"I was just heading there," I nodded, picking up my bag as I made a mental note that I needed to get some of the clothes stuffed in there washed.

I was only able to get a few feet ahead of coach before I heard myself being called back. He seemed excited for some reason, yet, his expression seemed to be more serious than before.

"I should let you know that the team is all gone now that scouts are beginning to come to games all over. I get you looking good tomorrow and you can very well say hello to a few scholarships." Ranford grinned, wiping his forehead that seemed to shine with the amount of sweat that covered it along with his bald head. The downsides of growing old. "Get a lot of sleep tonight, son. Maybe in the near future you can find people in the stands screaming your name, Darren Black."