by John Goode
“Is he ever going to stop?” Josh panted as he came to a stop next to me. He had taken his water and just poured it over his head, a good idea considering, but I was too thirsty to try it.
I shook my head. “He wants state this year, and so do I.” He kind of smiled at me and then looked at my water. I sighed and handed it to him. “Better hurry, day is just starting.”
“Get on the field!” Gunn’s voice echoed throughout the dugout. If you didn’t know him, you might think he had a bullhorn to be that loud. You’d be wrong.
We didn’t finish until almost three in the afternoon. By that time we were lucky to be still standing, and even that was iffy.
“I sure hope you girls have more in you than that,” Gunn berated us as he walked up and down the line of guys. “Because if that was the best you got, then I might have picked the wrong guys to be on the team.” We all held our breath waiting for his next words. “We’re done for today. Hit the showers.”
Half the team just fell down into the grass; the rest limped back toward the locker room in silence. Coach walked over to me, and I forced myself not to wince from the pain I was feeling. “Here is the list of measurements,” he said, handing me a sheet of paper. “Make sure you get it to Parker’s sporting goods store by Monday.” I glanced down at it and nodded. “Not a bad first day,” he said in a lower voice and gave me a small smile.
Suddenly the pain diminished a little bit.
I stripped and lumbered over to one of the tubs we had for ice baths. One of the assistant coaches helped me sink into one—the freezing cold making my muscles go numb and the pain fade away ever so slightly. I remember when I’d first started playing and I saw older guys resting in these tubs and thinking there was no way in the world I would ever want to just lay in a pile of ice. But to be completely honest with you, it had been all I could think of since about noon. I know the normal person would think that sitting in freezing cold water would wake you right up but honestly, it’s as relaxing as hell. And I had almost dozed off when Josh’s voice woke me up.
“Hey, scoot over there, chief. I need some icy love.”
Now the tubs were designed for two people, but lately no one had dared get into one with me in case they might catch the gay. So I was caught way off guard when Josh dropped his towel and edged into the other side. I scooted back to give him space, but honestly, we were pretty big boys, and there wasn’t all that much space to share.
“Oh Christ, that’s the shit.” He sighed, settling in to his chest. I knew exactly how he felt. “They offered to set another up but there’s enough room, right?”
I nodded silently as I tried not to think that I was naked in a small tub with a guy who wasn’t Kyle.
“Cool, because I was about thirty seconds from breaking down and crying, I was in so much pain.” He closed his eyes and leaned back against the tub wall. “And no matter how much swag you think you got, there is no way to recover from openly crying like a bitch in the locker room.” He opened one eye and looked at me. “You know?”
I nodded again, wondering why this was fucking me up so bad.
“So… how’s things with Kyle? You guys hitting it off?”
His question was so random, so nonchalant that it came across suspicious as hell. No one had asked me anything about my relationship with Kyle, good or bad. In fact, it was as if we all had made a silent pledge to ignore the fact that I was gay when we walked into the locker room from now on. So this question, this innocent question from nowhere, set off just about every alert I had.
“Why?” I asked him in a tone of voice that could only be referred to as a demand.
Both eyes opened now, and he looked over at me with concern. “I was… I was just making conversation. I mean, it’s just a question, you know?”
His attempt to make his response seem innocent only made it seem that much more sinister. “A question you never asked before,” I pointed out to him.
He shrugged. “And? I never asked you about a lot of things. Is that a crime?”
I decided to just play along with him. “Kyle and I are just fine. Thanks for asking,” I said, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Cool,” he said, as if trying to distance himself from the topic altogether. I tried to ease myself back into the ice and relax again. Neither one of us talked for several minutes. I had almost dozed off again when he asked. “So, then, you and Jennifer are just friends now, right?”
My eyes opened slowly as I looked across the tub at him. “As opposed to?”
I saw him blush slightly and then look away for a second. “I mean, it’s not like you, her, and Kyle are, like… together, right?”
I tried to keep myself from laughing, but there was no way to stop.
“That’s a no?” he asked when I began to snort. “Okay, I get it, it’s a ‘no,’ but you see why I had to ask, right?” I really think I was crying, I was laughing so hard. He muttered under his breath, “You could have just said no and left it at that.”
For a few minutes, I couldn’t breathe, and my stomach was cramping because I had laughed so hard. After I caught my breath, I said to him. “You watch way too much porn, dude.”
From the way he looked away, I knew I was right. I didn’t think much about the conversation until much later.
“HE ASKED if we were all, like…?” Kyle asked, making a gesture with his hands.
I paused in front of Tyler’s store. “Dude, I have no idea what that meant.” I pointed to his hands. “But I am pretty sure he was asking if the three of us were banging each other.”
Kyle’s face got a deep red as the mental image hit home.
I pushed open the door and found Mr. Parker sitting behind the counter nursing a Coke while he watched something on his laptop. “I know I am not paying you to watch movies, young man.” He looked up at me and flipped me off as Kyle closed the door behind us.
“That didn’t work coming from my dad. I have no idea why you think you’ll do any better,” he said, closing the computer.
“I have the uniform order,” I said, holding up the piece of paper. “So you may want to be nice to me.”
He rolled his eyes and looked at Kyle. “Can’t you control him?”
Kyle laughed and shook his head. “I suppose I could buy a collar and leash, but he’d still jump up and try to hump people.”
I looked over at him with a hurt look at my face. “Hey!” I protested.
He kissed me on my cheek. “But you are the cutest mongrel in town.”
I wasn’t too sure if mongrel was another hit, so instead I just took the compliment and passed the paper over to Tyler. “So here are the sizes for this year.”
He took it and glanced it over. “Looks about right.”
I looked over at Kyle, who knew what I was about to ask, and he nodded back at me. I took a deep breath and asked Tyler, “So what if I wanted to change something real small on that order?”
Tyler looked up at me and then over to Kyle. “Why do I have a feeling I am going to hate this?” His voice sounded worried. And the fact that neither of us answered made him even more skittish. “Brad? I am going to hate this, aren’t I?”
THAT WEEK flew by as we practiced harder and longer than we ever had before.
The pain and the discomfort became commonplace as our bodies grew accustomed to the rigor of actual season practice. That Thursday, the uniforms were delivered, and I had to admit, I had already forgotten last week’s talk with Tyler in the confusion of getting ready for our first game.
“Greymark!” Coach Gunn’s voice bellowed from his office. I had no idea what I had done wrong until I saw the delivery guy race out of the office as if he was on fire.
And then I remembered.
I got up, tossed my towel into my locker, and looked over to Josh. “When they speak of this, and they will, be kind and tell them I didn’t look scared walking in there, will ya?”
He had no clue what I meant but nodded anyway.
When I
got into the office, Gunn stood there holding one of the uniforms. “Close the door,” he said, not even looking up at me. I closed it behind me but wasn’t sure why—not like his voice couldn’t be heard all the way to Oklahoma, door closed or not. “Is this some kind of joke?” he asked, holding the uniform up to me. I shook my head because I just didn’t trust myself to talk yet. “But this was your doing, right?” I nodded. “You want to explain yourself before I kick you off the team?”
I looked at the uniform and then back to him, trying hard not to show one iota of emotion. “I am pretty sure it speaks for itself.”
He waited for me to say more and then threw the shirt at me. “Goddammit, Brad! I went to bat for you!” I caught the shirt as he kept shouting. “There were more than a few people who wanted you gone, wanted you off the team and out of the school, forget being team captain. I spoke up for you, and this is how you repay me?”
And there it was. It seemed like a simple question at the time, but the answer was so much more than that. I was still looking down at the uniform, my fingers tracing over the left arm of the sleeve. “No,” I said in a quiet voice. “I was trying to repay him.”
We both stared at the black band that had been sewn around the left arm. An identical black band encircled every left arm on every uniform; and unless he wanted to hire a seamstress to come in and pull the threads out one by one, they were on there for good. “Do you know what the school board will say? No one cleared this with them. They are going to lose their minds.” I just stood there, not saying a word because I knew there was nothing to say. I had made my choice, and now it was time to pay for it.
“You’re off the team,” he said, grabbing the shirt out of my hand. “Clear out your locker.”
My eyes stung, but I wasn’t going to cry, and I wasn’t going to beg him. Instead I turned around and opened the door and was shocked to find the team standing there looking up at me. They moved as I walked out. Josh put his hand on my shoulder for support as I walked by. It was a nice gesture.
Coach Gunn walked out and saw everyone standing there. “Walker, you’re team captain.”
Josh tensed up for a moment, looked over at me, and then looked back at Gunn. “Then I quit.”
Every single person in the room froze.
“What did you say?” Gunn asked him dangerously.
“I said if Brad isn’t captain, I quit.” His voice gained some strength as he stood next to me.
I began to say to him, “You don’t have to—” when someone else stepped up. “I quit too.” And then another. “I quit too.” And then everyone else. “We quit.”
What the fuck?
Josh took a step toward Gunn and said, “We either play under Brad, or we don’t play at all.”
Coach looked at them all and then back to me. It looked to me like he was trying to figure out if he could kill me and get away with it. “Tell me this is legal,” he said, holding the shirt up.
Thanks to Kyle, I did know this. “The only rule says that nothing can be added to the uniform that is distracting, and if something is added, it needs to be on all uniforms of the team.”
He looked back at the stack of uniforms and thought for a couple of seconds. We all held our breath as we waited to hear if he was going to just cancel the season or let us play. With Coach Gunn, either choice was just as likely. Finally he looked up and said, “Then I guess this season is for Kelly.”
Without another word he turned around and slammed his office door shut. The team erupted around me in cheers, but I was stunned. Not from the coach’s words but from the small smile I saw on his face as he turned away. I had the feeling I just missed something, but I didn’t have time to think about it as someone dumped a bucket of ice water over me from one of the tubs and screamed, “To Brad!”
All my suspicions faded as I turned around and swore revenge.
It was the start of a great season.
KYLE
I AM going to be honest with you when I say I don’t know who was more nervous about Brad making the team, him or me.
That Thursday I paced around his car waiting for practice to end. He had said that he would have a good idea if he was on the team or not, even though the list didn’t go up until Friday. I kept oscillating between being sure he was on the team to worrying that the school board or Raymond would keep him off out of sheer spite. It wasn’t that I disliked Coach Gunn; I just knew how much trouble the teachers could get into if they went up against Mr. Raymond.
Another reason I was going to get rid of him before I left.
As I waited, I realized that Brad’s “fame” as a baseball player in school had never even connected with me. To everyone else he was Brad Greymark, baseball god, but until this moment I hadn’t even cared if he never played the game again. I still didn’t care, but he wanted to very badly, so I wanted him to as well. So as I paced and waited, I worried what would happen if they didn’t let him play and exactly what I would do because of it.
I froze and wondered, When did I become this guy? Last I remembered, I was the guy who didn’t want anyone to know who he was, and now I was making plans in case I had to get my boyfriend on the baseball team. I smiled because it felt good, being the guy with a plan instead of just standing there taking it. I don’t know when I became this guy, but I knew I didn’t want to stop being him.
I heard the gym doors open, and the team began to pour out of the locker room.
Now I may have never connected Brad’s baseball reputation with him, but I did know the connection between jocks and being freaking hot. Football players always seemed so big and intimidating that I never was turned on by them, but baseball players were a whole other breed of beasts. They ran a lot, so they were all lean and cut, but the batting and pitching required some extensive upper body strength, which meant they had enormous arms. I don’t want to sound vain, but I was seriously loving all the extra bulk Brad was putting on. He had been hot before; now he was like something out of porn.
At least I assume, since I had never actually sat through a whole porn film.
So as the team filed out, hair slick from the shower, jeans faded and T-shirts hugging them, I had to pause and enjoy the sight for a few seconds. I mean, take Josh Walker for example; he was a good-looking guy all by himself. Dirty-blond hair, cropped short, strong cheekbones, full lips—just standing still, he would have been a stud. But then add all the running and batting and sit-ups and push-ups and he became something much greater than the sum of his parts.
And let me tell you, the parts weren’t half-bad.
He must have seen the slack-jawed look on my face because he grinned and nodded at me. “He’s talking to the coach—won’t be long now.”
It took me a couple of seconds to realize he was talking about Brad. “Oh, okay. Thanks,” I answered back, trying desperately not to sound like a complete spaz. God, I hated good-looking people so much.
About twenty minutes later, the locker room door came flying open, and Brad charged out directly at me. At first I wasn’t sure what he was doing until he got about halfway, and I saw the huge binder in his hands. My eyes got big as I looked at him. He tossed the book onto the trunk and grabbed me in a hug that literally took me off my feet. “He made me captain!” he roared, spinning us around. I laughed with him as he put me down and looked at me. “Me! He made me team captain.”
Now I don’t know about you, I had no idea what a team captain did, but the title sounded important. I mean, if you were captain of a starship, then you got to say “Engage” and all that cool stuff. If you were, like, Captain America, you got that badass shield and got to throw it at people’s heads. The only other captain that came to mind was Captain Caveman, but he didn’t seem that impressive, so I pushed the image of Brad dressed like a caveman away and smiled back at him. “That is awesome! I knew you’d make it.”
If you guys don’t tell him, I won’t.
“No one will know until tomorrow, but I want to celebrate tonight.” His hu
g moved closer to an embrace, and I could smell the soap and cologne on him. “I want to celebrate with you.”
“Any ideas?” I asked him, my hands snaking behind him and slipping between his jeans and waist.
“I can think of a few,” he said suggestively.
“Yeah, I can feel a few too,” I said, grinding back against him.
“When’s your mom get off work?” he asked, rubbing his cheek against my face.
“She closes.” My heart was beating like a jackhammer.
“Let’s go to your house,” he whispered in my ear.
All I could do was nod back.
WE BARELY got the front door open with all the kissing.
I was walking backward toward my room as he kicked the door closed with one foot. He practically tore the shirt off over my head as we fell onto my bed. His mouth was everywhere as I tried to pull his shirt off. I kicked my shoes off as he tossed his shirt behind him. His chain hung down from his neck, our eighty-one cents and his silver rose tangled in front of my face. He saw me look at it and gave me a small smile. “Everything I love in one place.”
I felt my heart skip a beat at the intensity in his eyes.
“Do you have a condom?” I asked him after a few seconds of silence.
He blinked a few times in confusion at me. “Do I what?”
I leaned up and reached around his waist and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “Do you have a condom in here?” I asked again, opening the wallet and searching through its contents.
“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice almost cracking in astonishment.
I pulled the one lone condom out of the side pocket and held it up. “Does this look like I’m joking?” I could almost feel his heart pounding over me as we stared at each other for what seemed like forever in silence. Finally I gave him one of his own know-it-all grins and ordered, “Get naked, Greymark. Now.”
I had never seen anyone shuck their clothes off that fast in my life.