“I found another trig tutor. Don’t worry, Coach. I’ll stay on the team.” I grabbed my backpack. “I’ve got to get to class. See you at practice.”
He sighed. I didn’t care. “Sure, Porter. See you at practice.”
Mr. Simons passed our tests back to us during last period. I ended up with an A, which meant that there was no way I couldn’t play football. I smiled at Mr. Simons. I think he was fooled into thinking I cared. I began to think of it like a game. Wondering who I could fool into thinking any of this was important.
Practice was important. I did the warm-ups with the guys, but Coach wouldn’t let me run any drills, and he wouldn’t let me stand on the sidelines watching them. I ended up back in the library with my test, waiting for Rick to show up. I started my other homework. I began with the hardest first. English class. Then history. Anatomy. Working all the way down and leaving trig for last. I looked up when the door opened and Rick walked into the library. I pulled my test out of my backpack and put it on the table across from me. He sat down and tried to smile at me. I knew it was as phony as mine. He wasn’t my friend. And even if he’d liked me, he wouldn’t be on my side. Didn’t matter. There weren’t any sides. There was only trig.
“Dylan, before we begin—”
I jumped in before he could finish his sentence. “I can see where I went wrong in the third question, but on number five I need to know what I screwed up.” I flipped the first page over and looked at number five again. I couldn’t figure out where I’d gone wrong. It was the only question on the test that I didn’t even get partial credit for. I looked up at Rick. “I don’t make the same mistakes twice.”
He stared at me and then slowly nodded up and down once. We didn’t talk about anything but trig for the next hour.
DESHAWN AND I ended up at a gym about a ten-minute drive from the school. I didn’t really like to go too often, especially at night. There were too many people who didn’t really want to work out, just talk. But, whatever. DeShawn and I planned on a long workout, and the school weight room would’ve been locked up by the time we were done. Plus, to be honest, I didn’t want to go back there anytime soon, so here we were. In the middle of our bench press set, as he added another forty-five plate to each side, he looked up at me. I ignored the look and sat down on the bench, psyching myself up for the lift.
“Dylan.” His face was sweaty from the workout, and he pushed the clamp onto the bar, locking the weight in place. “I’ve got to ask you. What happened?”
“Do you want to work out, or not, DeShawn?” I was looking at him in the reflection of the mirror.
“I want to make sure you’re okay.” He didn’t smile, but he didn’t back down either. “We can do both.”
I ignored the question and got ready for the lift. I could feel my side aching, and I knew I was going to have a hard time doing the lift. I grabbed the bar and pushed it up. “I’m going for five.”
DeShawn didn’t say anything and held his hands right under the bar, in case I needed help. I could feel my ribs as I lowered the weight and knew I wouldn’t hit five. I could ignore it, though. The same way I could ignore what he said to me, that word. And I could ignore him. I hadn’t seen him at school, hadn’t looked for him, and hadn’t cared. Don’t care about the pain, push through it. I was on my third rep, and I was pushing and pushing, but I couldn’t lock out my arms, and they buckled. DeShawn grabbed the bar before it crashed onto my chest, and I sat up, clutching my side, because it hurt.
“Okay,” DeShawn said, racking the weight. “You’re done.”
“I’m fine.” Clearly, those words were becoming my favorites. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince myself or someone else.
“No, you’re not. And Coach would kill me if I let you get hurt at the gym.” DeShawn held his hand out and pulled me off the bench. “C’mon. You’re no good to the team if you get more hurt trying to recover from being hurt in the first place.” He steered us to the front door and toward the parking lot. He shoved his hands in his pockets and waited while I opened my door. “Here’s the thing, man. If you give up the first time you get flattened on the field, then you didn’t really love the game. And I think you really love the game. It’s the same thing with Tommy. You know what I’m saying?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Not at all.” I started my car and turned the radio up as loud as it could go. I had some homework left over that I didn’t get done while waiting for Rick, but it wasn’t much and I was really hungry. By the time I got home, Dad was sitting in the living room reading.
“Dylan, where were you?” He tossed the book on the couch and I ignored the fact he was mad that I never called.
“After practice, I got Rick to tutor me in trig, and then I met DeShawn at the gym.” I dropped my bag on the floor and sat in the chair. “Did you eat dinner? I guess I could heat up some lasagna, if you want.”
“I already ate. There’s some food for you keeping warm in the oven.” He leaned forward, and even though he was looking at me, he reached out and touched the picture on the coffee table. “I really need you to call me and let me know where you are, Dylan. I was worried.”
I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Why? I’m fine, Dad.”
“With everything that’s happened the last few days, I think it’s perfectly acceptable for me to worry.” He let go of the picture and leaned back into the couch, staring at me. “I need you to call me if you’re not coming right home after your tutoring. I’m just concerned, that’s all.”
I sighed and shrugged. “Why the hell is everyone so worried about me?”
“I can’t speak for anyone else, Dylan,” Dad said, standing up and following me to the stairs. “I’m concerned because you’ve been through a lot in the past week, and I know Tommy hurt you badly.”
I had been about to climb the stairs, but my foot stopped in midair. I turned around slowly. “He didn’t hurt me, Dad. He turned out to be a jerk, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
He held his hands up, and I knew what he’d say next. “I don’t want to fight, Dylan.” He reached out. “You’re my son and I love you. Just, just don’t shut me out right now. That’s all I really wanted to say.”
“Sure, Dad. I’m going upstairs to wash up, and then I’ll eat, okay?” I started back up the stairs.
“Sure. Okay.” He sighed, and walked to the kitchen, probably to pull my food out of the oven. I hoped he remembered to use pot holders.
I ate dinner at the dining room table, finishing up my homework at the same time. I crawled into bed after a shower, but it took me forever to fall asleep. I told myself it was because of the pain in my side.
RICK TUTORED me, and we never talked about anything other than math. Now and then, he’d try to ask me about how I was feeling, but I ignored it and started asking more questions about trig. They all tried to get me to talk about my “feelings.” Riley, Jonny, even Chad and Steven. As far as I knew, they were still having lunch with the guys from the chess club while I was running the track. It didn’t bother me. I didn’t want to see the chess club guys get beat up by Russell and his loser friends, because of what happened. Allie even stopped me in the hallway once to ask how I was. I nodded at her and walked away. Riley was the one who I was hurting the most. I could see it every single time I cut a conversation short or I didn’t hang out when he wanted. The only time I’d ever done anything like that was when Mom died. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I just couldn’t talk about it. I didn’t have anything to say. I liked feeling numb. At least when it came to what was happening in school. I wished I could have sat down and talked to Riley without letting everything crash and burn around me, but I wasn’t smart enough.
Coach wouldn’t put me in the game on Friday night as a starter, but at least he let me suit up and sit on the sidelines. Steven was good. He called smart plays and everyone respected him, but he wasn’t pushing them the way he should’ve. I was getting more and more irritated. The score was closer than
it should have been at halftime, and by the time we were sitting in the locker room, after Coach’s usual halftime speech, I was this side of angry.
“Steven,” I said, not even trying to be polite. “You’ve got to be more aggressive. There’s no way we should only be three points up. That’s not cool.”
“Dude,” Dave said, “that’s what’s not cool. Steven’s doing a good job.”
“I didn’t say he wasn’t!” My voice got louder than it needed to be. I could tell I was getting defensive about Dave calling me out, but I didn’t stop. “I said he should be more aggressive. He should know that. The same way you should know that their wide receiver always looks over his right shoulder. Come up on his left, and he’ll never know until you take him down.” I pointed at Jonny. “You should—”
Jonny’s hand came up, his palm was facing me, and he was red. “Whoa! Think before you start talking to me like that, Dylan. We’re on the field. You’re not.”
“Only because I can’t be, and you know it!” I shouted at Jonny right as a hand clamped on my shoulder. I brushed it off, not even looking at who it was. “And you know I’m right.”
“Dylan.” Riley’s voice was in my ear, and he pulled me back toward Coach’s office for privacy, while Coach was in the bathroom. I didn’t even fight it. “Come on!” He practically shoved me into Coach’s office and slammed the door. “What the hell was that about?”
“I’m co-captain, Ri. It’s part of my job to help the team out.”
“By pointing out how crappy you think everyone else is?” He leaned against the door. “Dylan, go home. I’ll come over tonight and we’ll talk about what a dick Tommy is and eat ice cream and do whatever the hell it is we need to do to get you back.”
“All I need is for you guys to listen to me and trust that I know what I’m talking about when it comes to the game.”
He didn’t even bother answering, he just pulled the door open and closed it behind him. He walked back into the locker room. I heard him apologize for me. I sighed and realized I was behaving like a jerk. I followed him after a minute and walked right up to Steven, holding out my hand. “I’m sorry, dude.”
He shook my hand and told me to forget it. Coach stuck his head into the room and called everyone back on the field, and I started filing down the hall with everyone else when Chad grabbed my arm. “Dylan, we all know you’re hurt by what Tommy did, but maybe if you talked to him for a few minutes, you’d know why.”
“Never going to happen, Chad.”
He sighed. I hadn’t heard a sigh in a while. “Fine. Spend the rest of the year pissed off.” As he walked away, he said over his shoulder, “Rick says Tommy misses you too, but won’t say why he did what he did.” He waited for me to say something, but I didn’t respond. “Maybe you should find out.”
We won the game by three points.
EVERYONE ELSE went to Dave’s place to celebrate, but Riley followed me home. I wasn’t in the mood for hanging out with everyone, plus I felt bad for being such a dick. Dad was watching TV, so we went upstairs to play some video games. We didn’t really talk too much. I sat on the floor, Riley sat on the bed, and we played the most mindless game I could find. I was getting slaughtered, when Riley tossed the remote on the bed.
“Dyl.” His voice was really quiet. That was unusual for him, unless we were trying to stay up late and hide it from his mom. “Dylan, I don’t know what’s going on in your head these days, man. I don’t know what you’re going through. I don’t know how you’re feeling, but I do know that I would rather lose every single game that we play the rest of the year than lose my best friend.” He pushed forward off the bed and sat down on the floor next to me. “Just talk to me. About anything that’s going on. Anything. I don’t want you to cut me out. You’ve been my best friend for way too many years for me to not let you know when you’re being a jerk, and you’re being a jerk. And you’re scaring me. And I want to help you, but I don’t know how to do that, and I don’t know what you need me to do.”
We looked at each other and neither of us moved. We stared for a second, and then I put my controller down on the ground. “Why?”
“Why what?”
I tried so hard to keep it inside and be strong. I wanted to say something. To explain to Riley what was going on inside my head. But how do you let someone know that it feels like there’s a hole in the middle of your body that wasn’t there just a week before? I opened my mouth but no words came out. It felt like my whole brain was broken. “Why doesn’t he like me, Riley? He said he liked me. What did I do wrong?” I started crying, and Riley put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to him. “Why does he hate me?” Riley didn’t say a word. He let me cry, and then when the tears started to slow down and it was only my shoulders shaking, he leaned down and whispered in my ear.
“It’s going to be okay, Dylan. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
RILEY ENDED up calling his mom, and we hung out all night and talked. I let Riley sleep late—I gave him the bed and I slept in a sleeping bag on the floor—and figured I’d make a good breakfast and then start calling the guys on the team and apologize for being such a jackoff the last week.
Dad was in the kitchen standing at the sink drinking his coffee, reading the paper. “Good morning, Dylan. Did Riley stay over?”
“Yeah. Hope that’s okay.” I poured myself some water and downed it in one gulp. I guess all that crying left me dehydrated.
“It’s fine, Dylan. Riley is welcome here at any time. As long as his parents know.” He set his coffee down and tucked the paper under his arm.
“We called his mom last night.” I walked up to him and gave him a quick hug. “I’m sorry about the past week, Dad. I’ll be better, I promise.”
“I think you have an excuse this time. I’m here for you anytime, son. For anything. Just remember that.”
I smiled and opened the cabinets. “You hungry? Pancakes? Waffles?”
“Pancakes, please. With chocolate chips.” Riley came into the kitchen, yawning with his hair all over the place.
“Riley, that’s not very healthy,” Dad said, laughing.
“Yeah, well, whatever, Mr. Porter. I’m eighteen. I’m not supposed to be healthy.” Riley and I laughed along with Dad, and then Ri scratched his head. “It’s good to see the two of you laughing again. I missed it.”
It caught both Dad and me off guard and neither of us said anything. When Riley said something smart and serious and heartfelt, the best thing to do was ignore him, otherwise he’d get all defensive and freaked out. Riley didn’t have a problem showing emotion, as long as you didn’t acknowledge it. I’d never mention to Riley how much I appreciated him for letting me cry last night. I mean, maybe when we were both thirty, but until then, I’d thank him by not thanking him.
I didn’t actually have chocolate chips, so I added some peanut butter chips in Riley’s pancakes and tossed him some whipped cream I found in the back of the refrigerator. It seemed to do the trick. Dad and I stuck to the traditional maple syrup and the three of us just hung out. Riley demanded that I go relax while he and Dad cleaned up, and I flipped around the TV stations until I found a football game. I could hear them talking, but I wasn’t paying attention. I should have been paying attention.
HOW MY FRIENDS SET ME UP
A COUPLE of hours after he left, Riley called me and said we were going out that night. He told me to dress nice for the night. He said something sort of dressy but casual. He was going to surprise me tonight as a reward for not acting like a jackass for too long and told me to meet him at his place at seven and he’d take care of the rest of the plans. So, right on time, I rang Riley’s doorbell, and he pulled open the door and looked at what I was wearing. I stepped back and held my hands out at my sides while he inspected me. I was wearing dark dress pants and a blue shirt. I didn’t tuck in the shirt and I’d rolled up the sleeves to show off my forearms. Yeah, it was totally vain, but I couldn’t help it. I was still a guy, right?
I wanted to look good.
“Not bad.” Riley let me pass, and I wandered into his living room, waiting to see his mom and dad, maybe even his little brother. Instead I saw DeShawn, Steven, and Dave. Sitting next to Steven was some guy I’d never seen before. This new guy stood up, and he was tall and thin, and he had blond hair that had to be dyed because it was so blond it was almost white. He wore a pair of really tight jeans and a short-sleeved button-up shirt. His arms were pretty toned, actually for such a skinny guy.
Steven looked up. “Hey, Dylan, this is my cousin Matthew. Matthew, this is Dylan.”
I reached out my hand and said, “Hi. Nice to meet you.” He reached across the coffee table and his hand was really soft. His handshake wasn’t too strong, and he held on to my hand for a little bit longer than he needed to, so I gently tugged it away.
“Nice to meet you too, Dylan.” He turned to Steven. “You’re right, Steven. He’s cute.” I had no idea what he was talking about, but I could feel my whole face flush red. “Oh, and he’s shy. Nice. That’s even cuter.”
“Dylan, you remember me telling you about my cousin, right?” Steven nodded at me and I had no idea what he was talking about. He must have seen how confused I was, so he repeated himself really slowly. “My cousin.”
I shook my head. “Sorry, Steven. Should I?”
Riley grabbed my arm. “Matthew, will you excuse us for a second? We’ll be right back. Guys?” He dragged me into the kitchen and the rest of the guys from the team followed us. “Dylan, remember when you came out. In the locker room?”
“Yeah, of course.” I was still confused.
“Remember when I told you about my cousin,” Steven said. We all kept our voices down, because we didn’t want Matthew to hear us. “My gay cousin. He was in town this week, and, well, we kind of thought—”
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