Chapter 4“Break it up, Wazelle!”
Suddenly, I was back to May 14, 2009, and my junior year at Springfield High School West. Coach Giroux hollering, enough steam to melt every Nutty Buddy in the high school cafeteria freezer, four dozen squeaky shower sandals, and half as many raised voices and goofy adolescent laughs echoing throughout, the locker room showers weren’t my favorite place, but they were better than actual gym class.
“Over here, Pickett!” Harmon Waz Wazelle was at the center of a skirmish, playing bare-ass keep away with someone’s shoes. Since Waz still had on a T-shirt, his bare ass only showed when he raised his arms over his head. Shay Pickett was completely nude.
“Hit the showers!” Coach Giroux was annoyed.
The mugginess was good for my lungs. Band class was over for th
