Aaron Davis was the first kid Romelo Boykin saw when he and his mother walked into the front office of Pflugerville Hendrickson High School on the first day of his freshman year. 

Romelo was the new kid from Georgetown, just a 20-minute drive north. But the short move had enough distance to separate him from all the friends he grew up with. He didn’t know anyone at Hendrickson; he just knew he wanted to play football. Aaron was the freshman team’s quarterback, and Romelo became his go-to wide receiver. They slept over at each other’s houses. 

“Aaron was his first friend,” Romelo’s mother, Wendy, said.

Aaron was a quiet, respectful kid at Romelo’s house but fiery between the white lines. He and Romelo held each other accountable. They weren’t friends during practice or games – they were teammates. And they won. Aaron was called up to the varsity team as a freshman, and Romelo was set to play varsity as a sophomore. They worked out together all offseason, ready to take their talents to the big stage on Friday night.

That season never came.

Romelo is a senior now, a dynamic 6-foot-3-inch wide receiver for the 3-1 Hendrickson Hawks entering a rivalry game against Pflugerville Weiss. He’s enjoying the breakout season that should’ve happened two years ago. On his necklace, there’s a picture of him and Aaron from freshman year. He can still hear Aaron’s voice in the back of his head getting onto him if he doesn’t give maximum effort on a play, holding him accountable. Run a better route. Break faster. 

Aaron isn’t here anymore, but he’s still Romelo’s quarterback. His memory and the quest for a college scholarship are what drive Romelo. And he will not be denied.

“I knew nobody on that field was going to be able to stop me after going through what I went through,” Romelo said. “If I can do all that and still be able to strap this helmet up, I’m not going to be stopped by anybody that’s standing in front of me.”

––

Aaron Davis needed new shoes. 

He and Romelo were online shopping that summer evening before sophomore year, scrolling Facebook Marketplace. Once he settled on a pair, he sent a message to the seller to arrange a pickup. They didn’t know the guy, but he had the best deal. They agreed to meet that night, July 6, 2022.

“We were young at the time. We didn’t think anything of it,” Romelo said. “We’re just some kids out here trying to buy some shoes.”

Around 10:30 that night, a dark, four-door sedan rolled up. Aaron approached the car alone while Romelo and another friend stood back. They didn’t want to startle the man. Aaron hadn’t told him he’d arrive with a group. 

Aaron sat in the sedan’s passenger seat and closed the door. Meanwhile, Romelo waited. And waited. What was supposed to be a quick shoe swap was taking a long time, and the more minutes that passed, the more eerie the whole situation felt. Romelo couldn’t hold out any longer. He and his buddy walked to the car to see what was happening.

That’s when the gunshot rang.

Romelo sprinted to the car, yanking open the passenger seat door to pull Aaron out. He was shot in the neck as he bent down to look in the cabin. 

He was still conscious but doesn’t remember much after that moment. The car peeled away. His friend called the ambulance and sat with him until it arrived. Romelo struggled to breathe but didn’t feel much pain. He was shell-shocked. He was worried about Aaron.

Romelo was rushed into surgery. Wendy, his mother, thought he was at a friend’s house and now arrived to see her son in the Intensive Care Unit fighting for his life. Wendy and Aaron’s mother started piecing together what transpired at the hospital. Later on that night, they learned Aaron had passed away.

When Romelo regained consciousness after his surgery, the doctor told him he’d come within the hairs on his chin of dying, too. He didn’t have a beard.

Romelo spent a week in the ICU and a month in the hospital, where he made a tremendous physical recovery. But the mental recovery would take far longer. Romelo couldn’t play football his sophomore year, which zapped his drive. He didn’t want to be around other people because he didn’t know what they’d say and wasn’t ready for confrontation.

It took Romelo a year before he could talk about the situation. His mental health turned a corner once he was allowed to return to the football field ahead of his junior season. The team camaraderie gave him purpose again. 

Through the first four games of his senior season, Romelo has 25 catches for 271 yards and three touchdowns. He’s regained his football form from freshman year and hopes to secure a Division I scholarship with it. 

“This Romelo now is a completely different person from two years ago,” Wendy said. “He’s the person that he was before he came to Pflugerville. But now he’s even more focused.”

With each practice and game, he pushes himself toward college football and away from the shooting that defined his high school experience, but he will never entirely escape it. He’s thankful for his life yet carries the survivor guilt that he’s living while Aaron’s not.

“I still struggle with it to this day,” Romelo said.

Which is why Wendy was so frustrated when a reporter asked about the shooting after a Week One victory over Belton. Why, when her son was back to his old self, were people asking about the darkest moment in his life?

The shooting left a prominent scar on the right side of Romelo’s neck. Wendy once asked him if he wanted to have a procedure to remove it. Romelo said no. The scar represents how hard he’s worked to play football again.

“If you really love something and you’re really dedicated, any possibility or any chance you have to get back on that field, you have to take it,” Romelo said. “You have to work. You have to push. You have to grind. It’s not going to be handed to you.”

The majority of Hendrickson’s football program wasn’t in high school when the shooting happened. But that scar on Romelo’s neck reminds them how fickle football and life are. 

“It seems like it’s long gone, but it doesn’t need to be swept under the rug,” Hendrickson head coach Doug Pearce said. “You can’t take this game for granted.” 

Now, Wendy feels her son’s story should be shared. He’s competing for a college scholarship this fall but inspiring so many others in the process. She’s told Romelo since he was young that he’s a natural-born leader, and it always upset her when he followed others into trouble. He’s leading from the front now. She can’t tell him enough how proud she is of him for it.

“The boy is set on accomplishing something in life,” Wendy said.

He already has. Every time he steps on the field is proof.