by Kim Oclon
“All right,” Coach Murray said, “runner on first, one out. Watch out for the bunt.”
The corners took a few steps in and I cheated a step over to second base in case I had to cover it. Coach Murray tossed the ball in the air and nudged a bunt to the right of Junior who flailed off the pitcher’s mound.
I sprinted the few steps to second base. “Right here, right here,” I yelled, holding my glove out to give Junior a good target. The top of Kevin’s batting helmet barreled toward me. Junior did a sidearm toss that got away from him, forcing me to jump in order to catch the ball. I felt the ball land in the pocket of my glove. Just as my brain told my other hand to get the ball out of the glove to attempt the double play, my feet were knocked out from under me and the ball flew out of my hand.
“What the hell?” I sprang up, glaring at Kevin who was standing up, dusting the drying agent from his pants.
“What?” Kevin imitated my tone. “Just trying to break up the double play.”
“By slicing me with your cleats, dumb ass.” My shin stung. There was definitely a gash from Kevin’s cleats.
“Lukas!” Coach Murray pointed his bat at me. “Language!”
“You did go in kind of high,” Mike said from a few feet off the second base bag but I was sure the wind drowned him out.
I pressed my mouth into a thin line glaring at Kevin while he stood on top of the base like he was king of the mountain. My arms shook at my sides.
“Give him a break, Coach,” Kevin rolled his eyes. “He’s just so distracted by everything that’s been going on lately.”
Before I knew it, my arms extended in front of me. “Shut up.” I pushed Kevin off the base.
Kevin stumbled back but quickly recovered to lunge at me. “I fucking told you not to touch me.” He pushed me back. I stumbled back a couple steps but quickly recovered.
“Kaminski! Lukas!” Coach Kelly bellowed from in front of the home dugout. “Get your asses over here!”
I stalked off the field, keeping my eyes on Coach Kelly. Someone whispered “Oooo” like the characters do in a sitcom when someone gets into trouble.
Kevin huffed behind me, grumbling to himself. “Make me run the bases and get pissed when I do my job. It’s how you play the game.”
The tendons in my neck and jaw tensed.
“Next in line, get on second.” Coach Kelly waved an arm toward second base. “Alex, you take over at the position.” Alex hurried from the end of the line to grab his glove. Without another word, Coach Kelly marched around the fence and behind the dugout.
Coach took deep breaths in and out like he was doing some sort of childbirth breathing technique. In the few steps it took me to reach him, I realized this could be the end of my baseball career at Lincoln. Scott Kaminski was looking for a reason and this could be it. Coach couldn’t kick me off the team for being gay but he could for any other reason he might think of, including swearing at and pushing a teammate.
Coach Kelly turned like a drill sergeant marching past recruits during inspection. “What the hell was that out there?”
“A spike to the leg.” I crossed my arms, feeling my left shin throb. If my place on the team was in jeopardy, then Kevin’s was too and I planned on taking him down with me.
“Clean play, Coach,” Kevin smirked.
“Shut up, Kaminski,” Coach Kelly’s neck snapped to look at Kevin. “If anybody slid into one of our guys like that I’d charge the field and get him thrown out.”
Kevin narrowed his eyes. “Just trying to break up a double play,” he muttered.
“Not like that,” Coach Kelly said before turning to me. “And you. Are you going to respond like that if an opponent slides into you? You lay a hand on another player and you’re done. How many times have you told me how badly you wanted to play this year and you wouldn’t have any trouble on the field?”
I couldn’t hold Coach Kelly’s stare, embarrassed that I let Kevin get the best of me again.
“Our first game is coming up and I need to know that this team is together. That we have one another’s backs. How are we going to do that if we’re cursing at one another and pushing each other?” Coach Kelly paused as if he expected Kevin or me to answer but both of us just shifted our weight, staring at the dirt. “I don’t care what you two think about each other. I really don’t. But I need to know that if you need to throw the ball to second, you’re not going to whip it at his head or worse.” Coach’s stern eyebrows straightened into a quizzical look. “Did you pull that stunt in the locker room?”
“What? With the cup?” Kevin asked, still pouting.
Coach nodded. I tried to look at Kevin without moving my head, looking for a sign in his body language.
“Hell no,” Kevin said. “I’m not going to touch somebody else’s junk.”
“You didn’t do it?” Coach pressed.
“Nope.”
“You didn’t?” Coach asked again.
“No,” Kevin said, this time with a slight whine.
Coach Kelly looked from me to Kevin and back. He was thinking about something but I wasn’t sure what. He believed Kevin didn’t write on my locker and I did too. Kevin would have slipped if he did do it. “You’re going to run.”
“Run?” I asked
“We have to run the bases again?” Kevin whined.
“Nope.” Coach Kelly shook his head. “The perimeter of the field. Not the baseball diamond, the whole field. Together.” With his pointer finger he gestured to the grassy outfield and soggy infield of the JV diamond that was behind the varsity diamond. The JV players stood all over the field, doing drills at various stations.
“The whole field?” Kevin asked as if Coach had just said we had to run ten miles.
“How many times?” I asked, wanting to get this punishment over with and get back to second base before Alex got too comfortable there.
“As long as it takes,” Coach said. “You can stop when you can really tell me there is not going to be another episode like that one out there again.”
“It won’t happen again,” Kevin quickly said.
“I don’t believe you.” Coach Kelly said and walked back onto the diamond. “Get going gents. I’ve got all week.”
CHAPTER 41
DAVID
Kevin sprinted ahead of me so he was a good twenty-five yards ahead of me for most of the first lap. By the way he shook his head and made small grunting noises, I knew he was talking to himself. Probably damning me to hell for making him run like he was a bench player who committed too many errors.
At first, I didn’t mind the running too much. It actually calmed me down. But with each crack of the bat, I did my best to watch the play through the chain link fence that circled the field. A clean play looked so effortless from a distance. Alex dove for a ball that I knew I could have nabbed without the dramatics. I should have been on the field instead of running behind the backstop of the JV field as all of the JV players paused to look at the two varsity players jogging by.
Even if Kevin had never seen Tyler and me together and none of this had happened I still would have been counting down the days until I’d never have to see his face again. If it bothered him that much to be on the same team and breathe the same air in the locker room as me, then Kevin would have to be the one to walk away. One thing the past couple months taught me was that not everyone was a douchebag and very few people were as big a douchebag as Kevin. If only I had come to that realization sooner.
Kevin slowed as he approached the varsity field backstop and eventually stopped when he got to the dugout. I trotted a few paces behind. Coach Kelly stood at the dugout’s entrance with his arms folded and his belly blocking their way in.
“You’re done?” Coach Kelly asked.
“Yup,” Kevin said, making a move to get past Coach, but he didn’t budge.
“I’m never going to see crap like that ever again this season?”
“Nope,” Kevin responded.
“Never again,”
I confirmed.
Coach Kelly looked around the perimeter of the field, having to squint when he got to the JV field. When his eyes got back to Kevin and me, he said, “Take another lap. Just to be sure.”
Kevin’s mouth dropped. “What? Another one?”
“If you two can make it around the field together without killing one another, I’d say you’re ready to rejoin practice.”
Coach Kelly had never been one for team-building exercises and stuff like that and now he suddenly thought they were a good idea?
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s go.” I didn’t look back at Kevin as I started up again.
“You better catch up, Kaminski,” Coach Kelly said and I saw him leave Kevin standing at the dugout entrance. “More than enough time left for a third go-around. Maybe even a fourth.”
In a matter of seconds, Kevin was at my side and the only sounds were cleats hitting the dirt and our huffing and puffing. I wasn’t sure I could keep this pace for a third lap. Coach wasn’t expecting us to turn the final corner as best friends, but I didn’t know what he wanted us to get out of this.
A small pack of four track runners approached Kevin and me at a quick pace. Despite the similar black running tights and long sleeve T-shirts, I easily spotted Tyler. We locked eyes as the distance between us decreased. Tyler’s eyeballs shifted to Kevin and then back to me, his eyebrows furrowed in a silent question. I just rolled my eyes at Kevin, hoping to convey to Tyler that this was not like the last time he saw me running when I looked like I was dying.
“What a stupid sport,” Kevin huffed as the runners passed. “Running around in circles for hours. What’s that all about?”
I remembered the exact same conversation I had with Robert a couple months ago. Of course Kevin wouldn’t realize that baseball players ran around in circles too. “How many more of these are we going to do?” I asked.
“I’m walking off if Coach makes me do another lap.” Kevin slightly pulled ahead of me.
“Great, let’s go again.”
“Fuck you.”
“If it makes you that sick to be around me, feel free to leave.” A surge of confidence rose in me.
“I’m not the only one who thinks you’re fucking sick.” That hit me in the chest. There was no hesitation in his voice or any hint of stumbling. He believed what he was saying and had no problem saying it.
“I’m not the only who thinks you’re a fucking asshole.”
“Yeah, well fuck all of them. They’re just jealous.” Kevin pulled slightly ahead.
“That must be it.” I set my mouth in a firm line, breathing heavily through my nose. I picked up my pace so I was ahead of Kevin as we approached the dugout and Coach Kelly standing outside of it. “We’re taking another one, Coach.”
“I’m done,” Kevin shouted.
“Doesn’t seem that way,” Coach Kelly said.
I heard Kevin grunt loudly in frustration, followed by quick steps to catch up. “What the fuck? You want to get me alone or something?”
“Yeah, I do,” I said. Seeing Kevin jerk to a stop and glare at me wiped away any fatigue I felt. My legs no longer felt like sandbags were tied to my ankles. My arms swung at my side, relaxed. I jogged in place at Kevin’s side. “I have something I want to tell you so follow me.” I started running again, at a slower pace so Kevin could catch up.
“Just say what you want and get it over with,” Kevin said when he caught up with me. He glanced back at the field where runners stood on all of the bases and Coach Murray tossed a ball in the air, ready to hit it. “I don’t want to have to tell my dad I spent the entire practice running with you.”
I rushed on, not having the time to address every stupid thing that Kevin had ever said. We would be running for the rest of the season if that were the case. “I want to say thanks for being a complete shithead and telling Coach about me and Tyler.” As Kevin sharply drew in his breath I knew he had a comeback but I cut him off. “I’m completely serious. If you weren’t such a dick, I would have never done the thing that I should have a long time ago. So thanks for forcing me to do it.” I kicked up my heels, ready to take off like a character in old cartoons. “Prick.”
I didn’t have to look back to know that Kevin had stopped running and was just staring at my back as I found a sudden burst of energy that would allow me to finish this lap and probably five more.
I was riding high for the rest of practice that I barely noticed the sloppy paint job on my locker as I opened it and got dressed. I didn’t even think about my locker and the mystery asshat who destroyed it until I walked past Mike’s car and saw what was on the backseat. A small can of white paint that I recognized from when Mike bitched over the summer about having to paint the garage door. It was for these three rectangles on the door that intersected like the Olympic rings. A large paintbrush stiff with a gob of white paint rested next to the can on an old T-shirt. I peered into the window as if looking at some strange animal in a zoo enclosure.
“Hey!”
I took a startled step back and saw Mike standing at the trunk of his car. “Oh, hey,” I said.
Mike opened the trunk and tossed his bags in it. When he slammed the trunk down, the car shook a little. He deliberately walked to the door with his head down. I had to step back so Mike didn’t run into me. Without saying anything, he opened the door and sat down.
“Your dad would have been so pissed if the garage door turned out like my locker,” I said.
“He was pissed about it anyway.” Mike didn’t look at me. He just sat in the car with the door open and his hands on the steering wheel like he was about to drive away with the door open, but the engine wasn’t on. “He’ll probably make me do it again this summer before I leave for Kansas.”
I couldn’t stop the jealousy that struck me in the gut.
“Your boyfriend’s coming,” Mike flatly said.
“He is.” I turned to the door and picked out Tyler’s blonde head from the small herd of athletes leaving the building. Even though it was a strained conversation, I wondered if something inside of me would always smile when someone said “your boyfriend.”
Mike grabbed on to a handle of the door, ready to close it. “Well, see you around.” He somehow managed to close the door, start the car, and drive off all in one quick motion.
Tyler stood with his elbows resting on the top of my car. I hadn’t washed the brown boat since the first snowfall and the gray film of salt and dirt got on Tyler’s coat.
CHAPTER 42
DAVID
I walked with Allie to the next SAFE meeting, having no intention of going, but there was something I needed to do. It had been bothering me for quite some time.
“You were actually the topic of conversation at last week’s meeting,” Allie said, elbowing me.
“What?”
“Your name didn’t come up or anything, but your baseball locker did. No one knew it was yours except me,” Allie assured me. “Maybe Adam knew. I’m not sure.”
“Weird,” I said, not sure how I felt about people I didn’t know talking about me, even if they didn’t know they were talking about me.
“Will saw your locker and shared it with the group,” Allie explained. “He seemed pretty proud to be able to contribute something.”
“What was Will doing in the athletic locker room?”
“He’s on the freshmen volleyball team.”
“Oh. I didn’t know,” I said.
“First game today?” Allie asked, stopping at the classroom door like I was dropping her off at home after a date.
“Last first game of my high school career,” I said.
“So melodramatic,” Allie said
Anna came toward us from the other direction. “Hey, Allie.”
“Hey,” Allie nodded back, playfully tugging on the rainbow necktie that Anna had hanging around her neck.
“Hi,” Anna excitedly turned to me. “Are you here for SAFE?”
“I just need to talk to Ms. Larson fo
r a minute.” I craned my neck to peer into Ms. Larson’s classroom and saw her in the back putting away beakers and test tubes. The dancer girl and the short girl were already inside, dragging the desks into a circle.
“Well, anyone can come, you know,” Anna rushed on. “Gay, straight, bi, whatever.” She ducked into the classroom and went straight to the whiteboard and began drawing a series of stars in all the different colors.
“Put the caps back on the markers this time, Anna,” Ms. Larson said, walking to the front of the room. When she got to the door she smiled at Allie, but it froze on her face in a weird plastic way when she saw me standing next to her. “Hi, David.”
“I was just walking with Allie,” I said.
Ms. Larson’s genuine smile came back. “I didn’t know you guys were friends.”
“The library brings people together,” Allie said. She waved goodbye to me with a half salute like she usually did. “I hope you score today.” Chuckling, she went into the classroom and began straightening out the desks so the shape resembled more of a circle.
Ms. Larson stepped into the hallway and closed her classroom door halfway. “How are you doing?”
“Good,” I quickly said. “Better. Not bad.”
“Those all sound okay,” Ms. Larson said.
I saw Will approaching in his black hoodie with the thin horizontal stripes, blowing the swoosh of hair off his forehead. That kid had amazing timing. “Uh,” I began, thinking about what I wanted to say. “Sorry I got so pissed - I mean mad. There was a lot going on.”
Ms. Larson smiled at the speckled tiles in the hallway and then looked at me. “I might have been pretty pissed too. Some teacher you haven’t talked to in forever pops up out of the blue…”
Will slid between Ms. Larson and me without saying anything.
“Hey, Will,” I said.
Will stopped, looking at me from under the curtain of hair that hung over his eyes. “You know me?”