Break Away

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Break Away Page 16

by Van Barrett


  “So she comes over and hangs out with the dog?”

  “Yup.” River nodded.

  “And you guys don't talk? She just talks to the dog?”

  “Yup.”

  “Sounds kinda awkward.”

  “Oh, it is.” River chuckled. “I just try to busy myself while she's here. Do homework. Take a shower. Whatever.” He paused. “When we play road games, she takes care of him, though. That's nice. I appreciate that. 'Cause I don't know who else would do it.”

  “Why'd you guys break up?”

  River sucked his tongue. “Oh … we didn't see eye to eye on everything … or anything. I dunno. Kinda fell apart all at once.”

  “Huh. I see.”

  Well, that was definitely a weird arrangement. But it made sense, in retrospect. And it made all the rage I was silently directing at River earlier seem kind of undeserved.

  I joined River and turned my eyes back to the hockey game. He noticed I was paying attention, and he started pointing things out to me again.

  “See Stastny there, #26? He used to play for the Avalanche. You can see him right there, talking to his old teammates. They're still buds. You can tell. You can see the respect there, right?”

  “Yeah! I think. So what do they talk about?” I asked, pulling my feet up on the couch.

  “Oh, who knows, could be anything. Probably just beaking each other.”

  “Beaking?” I asked.

  “You know. Ribbing. Making fun.”

  “Oh. Right. Of course.” I stifled a laugh. “With hockey players, how could it be anything else?”

  “Hey, that reminds me.” River gave me a serious look. “The boys in the room today? They're not actually trying to give you a hard time. We're just always a little skeptical of reporters. Don't take it personally.”

  “Right,” I said.

  But they actually have a reason to be skeptical of me, I thought.

  I saw my chance. My chance to come clean. But River was so wrapped up and distracted in his hockey game, I felt like I couldn't do it. Not here, not now, anyway. Not with that game on TV.

  “Hey River?”

  “What's up, bud?”

  “I think I need some fresh air.”

  “Oh. Yeah, man. You wanna take a walk?”

  I felt myself grin like a dope.

  “I'd love to.”

  20

  Buzz

  – River –

  I wasn't expecting to leave the apartment again tonight, but a walk through campus at night sounded nice. “Just lemme change real quick.” I rushed back to my bedroom, threw off my pajamas, and jumped into some boxers, jeans, t-shirt, and my trusty ol' ball cap.

  “Alright, let's go. Wait. You mind if we take Deke? He loves walks.”

  “Not at all! Great idea, actually, bring him.”

  The winding path through campus was lit by the moody yellow glow of streetlamps. We passed by a student here and there. Tired, overworked, listening to headphones, hopped up on caffeine … they were all in their own world. Were they finally going home after a long day of classes? Were they off to the library for an all night cram session?

  It occurred to me how much I missed nights like these with Cass and Deke: when we'd get out of the house and just walk, somewhere, anywhere. Didn't matter what the destination was – just that we walked. What I really liked was getting away from hockey for a little and taking in the sights and sounds of campus at night.

  Me and Lane made some small talk. It was obvious he had something on his mind, something he wanted to ask me or tell me. I'd help him if I could. But I also felt like it had to come out naturally. Before long, we passed a park bench by the pond, and Lane, short of breath?, asked if we could sit.

  “Sure. You tired?” I asked.

  “No,” he panted. “Just nervous. Really nervous.”

  “Oh, … ha. Hey, take it easy, man.”

  We sat on the bench and stared into the still water of the dark pond. I stayed quiet. Deke sniffed around in the grass, found a good spot, flopped onto his back and wiggled.

  I knew Lane was mustering the courage to say something. At last, it came.

  “River. I gotta tell you something. I – I haven't been honest with you.”

  “No kidding?” I asked. But I thought to myself: I already knew that, Lane.

  “Yeah. The other day. When you … whew.” Lane stopped to let out a big, nervous exhale. “When you asked me if I was gay.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. So, you were right. I am gay.”

  “Huh.” I blinked. “And so, was that your boyfriend at the bar?”

  “No. Thankfully, that wasn't a lie. That was just some idiot I hooked up with a little while ago.” Lane rolled his eyes in regret. “I want to emphasize idiot. And I didn't go home with him that night if you're wonderi-- well, no, that's not true. I did, but not to sleep with him, just to make sure he made it without falling over dead from alcohol poisoning or something … ugh. Anyway.”

  I crossed my legs and leaned back. “I see.”

  “Are you mad?” he asked.

  “No. Of course not.”

  “Well, that was easy … too easy …” Lane trailed off, a little doubtful.

  A long, uncomfortable silence between us – although nature did its best to ease the tension and fill the air. A chorus of pond frogs joined in their high-pitched call, creeeeee. Crickets in the tall grass chirped. The soothing hoot now and again from an owl roosting in the trees.

  Lane gave me his soft but hesitant eyes. “And now you're not talking.”

  “Sorry. I don't know what to say, I guess.”

  “Is it a problem? If it is, just say so, and--”

  “No, it's not a problem, Lane. I told you I didn't care. And I meant it.”

  “Whew,” he sighed quietly. “You're really not like the others.”

  “The others who?”

  Lane laughed, shook his head. “You don't wanna know.”

  “But what if I did wanna know?”

  “You don't.”

  “Stop it. Yes I do. Just tell me who you meant.”

  “Okay – fine. I meant, you're not like the other jocks I've known in my life.”

  I grinned. “Oh, see, you're talkin' about my people, Lane. Now you have to tell me more.”

  He dropped his head back and wailed at the moon. “Uuuuahh!”

  I poked my fingers into his rib cage. “C'mon. Tell me.”

  “I still don't trust you, River,” Lane said. “How am I supposed to tell you these personal things?”

  His words cut at me like a knife. But I knew he had reason to say it. And hell, he was right not to trust me, too. And maybe I even felt the same way about him.

  I shrugged. “Yeah. You're right. Don't tell me.”

  He blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Okay. You wanna know? It's only my most embarrassing story ever.”

  “Don't tell me if you don't trust me, Lane.”

  “No. I do. I don't care. It's embarrassing but whatever. I'm the one who keeps saying two-way street, right?”

  I gulped. “Yeah.”

  “Okay. So … I went to high school in New Jersey, right.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Basically, long story short, I got tricked into a situation with this football player. And he totally played me. And the whole school found out about it. And then my parents and family found out about it, too. And that's how everyone found out I was gay.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Uh. That's pretty vague, but it sounds like a sucky situation.”

  Lane let out another deep breath. He plastered his palm to his forehead. “How much are you comfortable hearing?”

  “As much as you're comfortable sharing.”

  “Weight class. We had weight class together.”

  “Uh huh.” I bit my lip, thinking: Go on.

  “God knows why I was taking that class to begin with. Well, I know exactly why: I'd put off my last 'physical education' requirement u
ntil the very end, the last semester of my senior year. Finally, with my feet to the fire, and with the school dangling that diploma over my head, I knew I couldn't wait any longer. So, yeah, I took weight lifting class. I didn't wanna get big and buff like you or anything, I just wanted to get a little more toned.”

  “Right.”

  “His name was Buzz. Fucking Buzz. That's not even a nickname, by the way. His parents were just so flag-waving, so apple-pie American, they literally named him Buzz. After Buzz Aldrin, of course.”

  “Haha. Buzz. I love it.”

  “Yeah, well, Buzz was a prick, River, ever since grade school. At least to me. And, like all the jock assholes in school, he just so happened to be fucking gorgeous and had a body to die for … tall, handsome, popular. All the girls had undying crushes on him … et cetera, et cetera.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “But it wasn't until that year, our last year, that he started talking to me. Like I was a real human being. The first time he asked me how my weekend was? I couldn't believe it. I refused to believe he was serious. And I really didn't believe it the first time he paid me a compliment. He said my weight lifting form was great. I thought he was insulting me on the sly. But no, slowly, more compliments started to come. My biceps were really starting to pop, he'd say – and he'd touch and squeeze my muscle to test it. Or, 'your new haircut looks nice.' Or 'hey, that's a cool t-shirt.' All these little compliments added up to paint a kinder picture of Buzz. And slowly but surely, I started to think – wow, Buzz might actually not be the world's biggest douche bag! Maybe we just needed to have some kind of shared interest before we could see eye-to-eye!

  “And the nicer he was to me, the more I started to make excuses for our history. 'Oh, he was just an immature jerk then! He's a nice guy now that we're older!' Well, River, he kept his good behavior up. He kept it up until my attraction to him started to grow. And in my eyes, all his crimes were absolved. Years of relentless teasing – forgiven, in the blink of an eye.

  “And so we started hanging together outside school. In secret. Our secret friendship. I didn't dare tell anybody because … well, for one, I hadn't come out to anybody yet. And I didn't want to jinx what I had with Buzz, because I was hoping it was something special … that he knew how I felt.

  “One day, we're at his house, and he says to me, 'Lane, you wanna make a bet?' And I'm not a gambling man, so I said, 'uh, no?' But he doesn't care. He bets me anyway. He says, 'I bet you $50 you wanna suck my cock more than anything in the world.' And I made a big stink, acted like he was insane. 'That's an idiotic bet, Buzz, how the hell could I possibly lose that bet when all I have to do is not suck your cock to win?! As if I'd ever want to do that! …' But while I'm protesting, he starts rubbing himself. Through his pants. And soon, I see this bulge start to harden in the crotch of his jeans. And my words just kinda turned to mush in my mouth.”

  “Damn!” I gasped. “And what then?”

  “Well, er – we uh, we did things.”

  I shook Lane's thigh. “I told you, you can give me details.”

  “Okay. Right. He uh – he unzipped. And pulled his boxers down. And out it came. I just kinda stared at it. Blinking. I was getting hard myself. I didn't know what to do. But then, I guess instinct took over and … yeah. That was my first.”

  I gulped. “Damn. Crazy.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, er, why's that bad? Seems like a good time to me. I mean, from a gay guy's perspective, of course.”

  “I haven't told you the bad part yet. The bad part is, after I gave him that blowjob? I let myself get my hopes up. I actually thought we might be falling in love. Ha! But then, nice guy Buzz started disappearing, and asshole Buzz made a return. Because now, I owed him that $50, remember? And he used it against me to get what he wanted.”

  “What?! What a sleazy move.” I hissed and pounded my fist into my palm.

  “Yup. Every day at 3:30, I went to his house before his parents came home from work and 'paid interest on the debt.' AKA, I blew him. Hey, I didn't mind! I thought we were in love. I could owe him that $50 for the end of time, for all I cared. Although it'd be nice if he ever returned the favor …”

  “Ugh.” I felt sick to my stomach.

  “Meanwhile, his friends started to give him a hard time, 'cause they didn't get why he sometimes talked to me in weight class. So, he stopped doing that.”

  “Um, please tell me that was the end of it, then?”

  “Ha. Nope. It wasn't. I still happily 'paid my interest.' But it didn't last for much longer once his friends started in on him. One day, he asked if he could film me on his cell phone. You know. While I went down on him. I said, hell no! But he said he'd consider the $50 debt settled if I let him. Honestly, I didn't even care if the debt was settled or not, but I agreed. I guess I agreed because I could tell he really wanted to film it. So, he recorded me.”

  “Ugh.” I felt even worse.

  “And he posted it on Facebook just a few hours later. Facebook was quick to delete it, but it didn't matter – the damage was done. Everyone at school saved it and passed it around. See, River, I hadn't told anyone I was gay. Not my closest friends, not my siblings, not my parents. But, within a few hours, everyone in my life found out. In the worst way imaginable. With undeniable evidence. All thanks to Buzz! And uh, yeah, that was the most embarrassing day of my life.”

  “UGH.” I stood, I had to, I was too angry to stay seated! I bolted off that bench and paced back and forth, angrily clenching my fists, muttering swear words. Who could do a fucking thing like that?! To a nice guy like Lane? What the fuck, man?

  “River. Relax. River.” Lane pat the seat on the bench next to him. “C'mon. Chill out. I've gotten over it, so you don't have to be all angry on my behalf.”

  I sat down, still seething. “Why. Why would he do that?!”

  “I dunno, man. Some people are fucked. Haters, right?”

  “Didn't he care about outing himself?”

  Lane laughed. “But he's not gay.”

  “Uhh!” I objected. “Hello! He is most obviously gay, Lane.”

  “You think? I dunno. Anyway, no one back home thinks he's gay. As far as they knew, it only happened just that once. Buzz told everyone I begged and pleaded and even offered to pay him $50 for the chance to suck his dick. And he went along with it because he thought it'd be hilarious. And all his jock friends rushed to his defense, and said it's not gay to have a man suck your dick. As long as you're not the one with the dick in your mouth, I guess, you're not gay.”

  “That is so stupid.” I shook my head. “And no, Lane, he is gay. He dangled the debt over your head because he was too fucking cowardly and afraid to just admit it to himself: the fact that he likes men. The fact that he actually enjoyed being with you.” I swallowed. I didn't know a lot about analyzing people, but I sure knew in my heart that I was right about this one.

  Lane contemplated what I'd just said. “Huh … yeah … I mean, that would make a lot of sense, when you put it that way.”

  I was kinda miffed that Lane hadn't understood that himself. “Yeah. Sure would. Isn't it obvious? Shouldn't you have figured that out, since you study psychology?”

  Lane gave me a sassy look. “Hey, I try not to think about that part of my life too often. It's why I came to Grand Forks. To get the hell away from my super embarrassing life in New Jersey. Going home for the holidays is the worst. I just can't leave soon enough.”

  “God. I bet.”

  “But you know what? In some weird way, I truly believe things worked out for the best. And that I'm a better person because of all that.”

  I blew out a gust of surprise. “How?”

  “If it weren't for Buzz, I wouldn't have come here for school. I love it here, River, and I had the chance of a lifetime to reinvent myself. No one knew my history and they didn't care. Instead of being deathly afraid anyone would find out I was gay? I kinda owned it. Well, I'm still working on that. It's not like I tell everybody. But at le
ast I can tell friends now. And, you know. Guys like you. And I owe it all to Buzz … Buzz the dumbass.”

  “Hmph. I see your point.” I nodded begrudgingly. “Still. I'm just bothered by that whole story.”

  Another pause between us, and again we listened to those frogs. Creeeee.

  “Hey River.” Lane patted my shoulder and let his hand linger there. “I like how mad you got just then.”

  “Why?”

  “It's cute. Shows you care.”

  “Yeah. I guess.” My leg was busily bouncing. Truth was, I was still fuming about Buzz. I got up again. “I gotta walk some more, Lane. I gotta walk that off.”

  “Okay,” Lane said with a slight laugh.

  21

  Shallow Pig

  – River –

  Deke was happy to resume walking. And I was too, since the walk helped to take my mind off that Buzz fucker. Fuck …

  “Soo.” Lane bumped his shoulder into me while we walked. “Now that I've told you something personal.”

  I pulled my ball cap lower, shielding my eyes with the bill. “What do you wanna know?”

  “Don't you hide under your hat!” Lane laughed. He tried to knock my hat off, but I weaved to the side and dodged his hand.

  “I dunno what you're talking about,” I grumbled.

  “Yeah, right! You pulled your hat down over your eyes because you knew I was gonna ask you a question.”

  “Maybe it's just a nervous tic?”

  Lane sighed. “Fine. We'll call it a nervous tic, but you're still obligated to give me some kind of answer.”

  “Okay. What do you wanna know?”

  “Um … let's see. I dunno, River. Something.”

  “Geez.” I laughed. “I see why you switched outta journalism. Your interview skills … they suck, bro.”

  Lane's jaw fell open with pretend shock. Bouncing on his toes like a boxer, his fists went to town on my shoulder like it were a speed-bag. I laughed.

  When Lane ran out of steam, he let out a thoughtful sigh. “Okay, why don't you … tell me about your parents.”

  “I love my Mom. Y'know, I can't wait to get that NHL contract so I can buy her a new house and take care of her. But she really wants me to get that degree more than anything else. Hell, she'd be mad if I left school early, ha!” That came out quick and easy. “And … well, you know my dad was an alcoholic. Or is. Whatever.”

 

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