Playing for the Other Team (11 page)

He raised his hands and fisted his frizzy hair, hard, as he looked from Elle to me and back again.

“What the fuck, Bry?” he asked again. “What the literal fuck?”

It probably wasn’t the right time to point out that that didn’t make any sense. While I was still trying to find words to explain myself, Trip shook his head at me.

“Bullshit,” he said yet again. “This is fucking dumb. Call me when you’re sane again.” Then he turned on his heel, ripped open his car door, and climbed inside. Elle only just managed to hop off the hood before he reversed and left the parking lot with squealing tires.

“That went well,” Elle commented drily.

“Totally.” I stared bleakly after the vanishing taillights and tried not to think about the fact that I might have just lost a very good friend.

“I’m really sorry, Bry.” Elle was pulling her lip between her teeth as she looked at me. “I was there with him when his mom called. He wouldn’t even talk to me about it; he just called you and then shut down until you got here.

Oh yeah. There was the bit I had conveniently ignored until this moment.

“My mom told his mom?” I asked weakly.

“Yeah. I don’t know the details, though.” She frowned at me. “What’s going on there?”

“You’re taking this remarkably well,” I told her instead of answering.

“Yeah, well, I’m not a bigoted idiot.” She pulled a face. “Though I’m apparently dating one. I can’t believe Trip said that. I mean, he makes the same dumb gay jokes as every other guy I know, but I didn’t actually think he…ugh.” She shuddered theatrically.

“Thanks,” I said because it was the only thing that came to my mind.

“No worries. I’ll make him see sense.” She gave me an encouraging smile.

I’d known Elle for quite some time. She and Trip had been dating for something like a year and a half now, and she and Brina knew each other from the dance team. We had always been friendly and gotten along just fine, but I had to admit, I’d always thought she wasn’t that bright. She was pretty and flirty and just generally way too cute for Trip, she cared about her clothes far more than her grades, and I’d never talked to her about anything deeper than professional baseball. But she was also down-to-earth and low drama, two qualities I liked about her. I had never appreciated them as much as I did right now.

“I can’t believe she did that.”

“Your mom?” Elle asked, sounding sympathetic.

“Yeah.” I swallowed and lowered my gaze to the ground. “She was upset when I told her, but I wasn’t expecting
this
.”

“I’m sorry,” Elle repeated and stepped closer. She patted my shoulder in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring gesture but didn’t actually deliver on that promise.

“I was going to talk to her again tonight, to try and figure out if she’s calmed down, but apparently I already have my answer.”

“She might have meant well,” Elle suggested, but she didn’t sound as though she believed it herself.

With a deep sigh, I went into a crouch and stared at the asphalt. “She slapped me when she found out,” I confessed.

“Ouch.” Elle stepped next to me. I thought she was staring down at me, but I didn’t actually look up to check. “Why does it bother her so much?”

“Long story.” I gave up on my crouching position and sat on the still-warm ground.

“Is there a short version?”

“My dad died; my uncle moved in and started dictating our lives; he was a jerk and a homophobe; apparently my mom listened to him. The end.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Smiling weakly, I finally glanced up at her. “At least Brina’s cool with it.”

“I was just gonna ask about her,” Elle said. “You think it might help if she talks to your mom?”

“That’s…actually not a bad idea,” I conceded.

“Your mom might just be overwhelmed. I think that’s why she went and talked to Trip’s parents. And apparently she asked if Trip was your boyfriend.”

“Oh Jesus,” I muttered. “No wonder he freaked out.”

“Still not an excuse,” Elle grumbled mutinously.

“Yeah, I know.” With yet another sigh, I straightened up and dug in my pocket for my phone. “All I want to do right now is go home and hide under my blanket, seriously. Today sucked.”

I wondered whether I should have felt angry. My mother had gone and told people about something I had confessed to her in confidence. Trip had—unsurprisingly—been an ass about the entire thing. Jasper still didn’t want me and wouldn’t tell me why. His sister was probably going to start plotting against me any minute. And to top it all off, my phone had just died, so I couldn’t call Jasper like he had instructed me to when I had left his place.

“Go home.” Elle patted my shoulder. “Have Brina make you a hot chocolate, put on your PJs, and eat ice cream in bed while you spill all your problems to her.”

I blinked at her. “Am I some sort of honorary girl now or something?”

She giggled. “You wish, Bry.”

“No, actually, I don’t. I like being a dude.”

“Dudes are still allowed to enjoy ice cream, you know,” she pointed out.

I shushed her. “Don’t say it so loud; otherwise they’ll all want some.”

Chapter Nine

All Hell Breaks Loose

I first realized that Thursday was going to be That Sort Of Day when I reached my locker in the morning and found Nova Phillips waiting for me there. She was pouting a little and wrapping her long hair around her index finger, but when she saw me, she froze.

“Bryson,” she said.

I so did not have the nerve for this. “Hey, Nova,” I muttered warily.

“Bryson, I swear it wasn’t me. I didn’t say anything.”

That gave me pause. I stopped in the middle of fiddling with my combination lock and squinted at her, feeling like I had missed something important. “Huh?” I managed.

“It honestly wasn’t me,” she repeated, ran her tongue over her lower lip, and looked at me expectantly.

“Um, okay.” I had no idea what I was supposed to say to that. “Good. Cool. Thanks.”

“I just wanted to make sure you knew. I figured I’d be the first one you’d blame.”

“Not blaming you,” I assured her automatically. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay. Great.” She gave me a surprisingly sincere-looking smile and a little wave before she wandered off. Two seconds later, the spot she had occupied was filled by Jasper.

“What’d
she
want?” he demanded to know.

“Good morning to you too.” I finally got my locker open and started the task of getting my books together. “I honestly have no idea.”

“Could it in any way be related to Trip confronting me in the middle of the hall just now and screaming at the top of his lungs about, and I quote, ‘perverting Bryson into having filthy ass-sex’?”

I stared at him, mouth dropping open. “Oh shit,” I said when it started to sink in. “Tell me he didn’t.”

“I’d have to lie, sunshine.” He gave me a sad smile. “I’m sorry. As of ten minutes ago, you’ve officially been dragged out of the closet.”

“Fuck,” I groaned. “I haven’t even managed to talk to my mom yet about why she went and told people, and Trip outs me to the entire school before first period has even started?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Jasper winced. “He didn’t take it well when you talked with him last night, huh?”

“Not really, no.”

“I was worried for you. I was hoping you would call me.”

“My phone died. I’m sorry, I—”

A hard punch to my bicep made me want to scream in pain. I gritted my teeth and looked at Fletcher, who gave Jasper a disgusted look before he turned to me.

“Dude, you should hear what people are saying about you.”

“I did,” I forced out. My arm was still throbbing.

“Better be careful. You keep hanging out with him, and that rep is gonna stick.”

“I think you’re mixing up homosexuality and leprosy,” Jasper said innocently. “Don’t worry. Common mistake. Could have happened to anyone.”

“You need to shut the fuck up,” Fletcher growled at him, and when Jasper only shrugged, Fletcher thrust his hand out and harshly pushed him off-balance. Jasper stumbled, caught himself, and then I was hurling myself at Fletcher without even remembering having made the decision to do so.

It was a mixture of instinct, protectiveness, and just plain anger. Bad enough that Fletcher felt the need to fuck with me—no way was I going to let him get away with hassling Jasper, who’d already been through all this crap once. And this was the only way I could think of shutting him up.

He pushed me off, but not before I’d slammed him into the opposite wall. He had more upper-body strength than I did, and I knew it, so I didn’t even bother trying to square off against him. After dodging one wild punch, I kicked his leg out from under him. He went down, taking me with him.

We had barely hit the ground when I felt someone’s grip on my arm, annoyingly in the same spot Fletcher had bruised.

“Teacher!” I heard someone’s warning shout. Fletcher was being aided by a couple of teammates from the track team, and the one who was still holding on to me was one of my fellow baseball players, Raymond. I was grateful for it. Fighting meant an automatic three-day suspension from sports, and I wasn’t keen on that. Neither, it appeared, was Fletcher. He sent me a threatening glare before he turned away and shrugged off the arm of his teammate.

“Everything okay, Bryson?” Raymond asked, keeping his voice low.

“Not really,” was the only way I could think of answering that.

“Yeah, I heard,” he confirmed. I braced myself for yet another warning about staying away from Jasper before he infected me with the gay, but Raymond only patted my shoulder.

“You do what you gotta do, man. Don’t let nobody tell you any different.”

He walked off, leaving me standing there, baffled.

“Oh, look,” Jasper said, a hint of a cheerful smirk on his face. “You have a fan.”

“My head is going to explode,” I warned him and gathered my books, turning in the direction of my first class. “This is surreal.”

Jasper grinned, kissed my cheek, and warbled, “Welcome to queer-land.”

* * * *

By third period, everyone was whispering. I got looks as I made my way through the building, every time I entered a classroom, every time I left one, and I fielded several rather intrusive questions from people I didn’t even know.

By fourth period, Trip and Elle had broken up. The news reached me in the lunch queue, where I stood with a few of my teammates, including Raymond, and I’d been happy to realize that they all seemed far more upset about my skipping practice than about my sexual orientation.

“She told him to knock it off with the fag jokes,” Gavin, who’d been a witness to the incident in question, reported. “He called her a rotten bitch without a sense of humor, and she called him a homophobic piece of crap, and he said it wasn’t any of her business, and then she agreed and told him that
he
wasn’t any of her business anymore either.”

Shit.

I appreciated Elle standing up for me, and logically I understood that I’d only been the catalyst for a fight between them that would have happened sooner or later. But that didn’t stop me from feeling like I was at fault. I had gotten this whole ball rolling, and now everyone was suddenly going crazy.

After lunch, I was on my way back to my locker when I was pushed into a wall by some tall, skinny dude with purple hair. What was it with people insisting on manhandling me today?

“Do I know you?” I was starting to get irritated, and it showed in my tone.

“You keep your hands of my boyfriend,” Purple Hair snarled.

I could only stare. Strong fingers dug painfully into my shoulder. “Er, what?” I managed eventually.

“
My
boyfriend. Keep your hands off him. You do
not
wanna mess with me.”

That statement left me stunned and mute. I simply stared and tried to make sense of the words.

“Got it?” Purple Hair shoved me again. “He’s mine. He’s not up for grabs.”

With that, he gave my shoulder one last push and vanished into the crowd of students heading for their next class.

* * * *

“Hey, sunshine,” Jasper greeted me in the art room when I dropped into my chair. “Saw your sister and her friends earlier. They seemed really concerned about the bigotry being directed your way.”

“Does everyone know my business now?” I griped.

“Looks like it, yeah.” Jasper reached out and ran his fingertips along the back of my neck. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I think so. I don’t know.” I leaned forward onto the table and buried my face in my arms. “How come all the girls are cool with it, and guys are being jerks about it?”

“You could write a whole thesis paper trying to answer that question. The guy in the Mets hat acted cool this morning, though, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, Raymond was nice about it. And a few other teammates have been too,” I was forced to admit. “I could do without the idiot questions, though. Maybe I should douse myself in glitter and parade through the school waving a rainbow flag, just to remove any lingering doubts.”

“I’d watch that,” Jasper grinned.

“Of course you would. You’re sick in the head.” I kicked him teasingly, but instead of kicking back, he hooked his leg around mine and kept it there. The contact felt nice, reassuring.

“You’ll be okay, Bry,” he said, tone suddenly serious. “It’s gonna be okay.”

I should have blasted him for sounding like a complete cliché, but I didn’t. I only nodded to acknowledge I’d heard him, sighed deeply, and grabbed my sketchbook.

“Hey,” I said then, hoping I sounded casual, “You know a skinny guy with purple hair?”

Jasper froze, mid-pencil stroke. “Why?” he asked very carefully.

“Because he ambushed me in the hallway just now. It was not pleasant.”

I waited for his answer, but when it didn’t come, I turned my head and realized he had gone very pale. As I watched, he swallowed hard and laid down his pencil with deliberate care.

“Christopher Malloy,” he said then. “He…he’s my ex.”

“Oh,” was all I managed in response.

“What did he say to you?”

I shrugged. “Nothing particularly nice.”