Face down in the mud, Carter’s anger swelled. He was tackled hard in the endzone long after he scored.

Carter and his five closest friends played tackle football every Saturday morning in the park. They almost took this Saturday off because of the torrential rainfall this past week, but not one of the friends wanted to be the one to chicken out.

Now, all Carter could make out was the mud-muffled cacophony of laughter as his friends, no doubt enjoying the anticipation of Carter rising from the mud as some sort of strange chocolate glazed donut with legs. Carter stayed face down in the mud, not wanting to give them the satisfaction. He began to see swirling shapes in the mud as the laughter silenced. Carter, running out of breath, imagined rolling over and seeing that his friends had gone home.

This made Carter sad.

He rolled over quickly, his eyes shut. He smiled so wide his teeth looked like a row of marshmallows in the cocoa. His friends erupted in laughter.