Safety Net (29 page)

Lowell arched an eyebrow. “Your
high school running back? The one who crashed his car?”

Erick tilted his head from side to
side. “I had other reasons for beating myself up over that one. It went
hand-in-hand with all the other ways I was screwing myself up back then.” He
paused. “Besides, Jimmy was a friend. Seriously, I should’ve seen the red flags
earlier.”

Lowell inwardly sighed, but for
Erick, this was a step forward.

“I was gonna grab dinner at
Poitier. Wanna come? I’m meeting Dale and Andy. Poitier’s having a
Thailand-themed night, and their pad thai is awesome.”

Erick looked at him. “Why don’t we
go to the apartment?”

“On a Wednesday?” Lowell asked,
dubious.

“Coach Miller canceled my meeting
tonight,” Erick said. “He’s interviewing offensive coordinators this week.
Besides, I’ve been thinking. The clock’s running out on the shack. April’s
almost over, and Dr. Brandt comes back the end of May.”

Lowell had sort of forgotten about
Dr. Brandt coming home. “Oh. That’s right,” he said soberly.

Erick said breezily, “But if your
heart’s set on Poitier’s pad thai, we can meet up later. You know where to find
me.”

“Oh, forget the stupid pad thai,” Lowell
growled, texting Dale about his change of plans.

They grabbed pita sandwiches at the
student union for dinner, and Lowell wanted dessert so they bought chocolate
chip cookies to take back to the apartment. Once there, though, the cookies
were abandoned on the kitchen counter because Erick pulled Lowell into a kiss
and wouldn’t stop kissing him, walking backwards through the apartment, leading
him to the bedroom.

They hadn’t done more than kiss and
hold each other since Candace and Erick had broken up. It was sort of nice, but
also sort of made Lowell ache from the uncertainty and from lust. He’d had to
stop himself several times from going farther, from sliding down to take Erick
into his mouth. Now he had the lead from Erick and he wasn’t going to stop
himself this time. Not even when Erick, sinking against the bed, his jeans
pushed down, stroked Lowell’s hair and said, “Wait, no. I want--”

“I know what you want,” Lowell
said, and licked the tip of his cock. “This is what I want.” He licked again
and smiled up at him. “The night’s still young, Texas. Be patient.”

Erick made a strangled growling
sound and Lowell swallowed him, sucked him off, nice and slow. Recovering,
Erick got the rest of his clothes off, and Lowell stripped and joined him on
the bed. Erick played with Lowell’s dick, worked his boner, and slid down to
suck him. Which always made Lowell’s heart sort of swell with loving him,
because Erick tried so damn hard but was so hit or miss at it. Hadn’t quite
gotten the hang of it, sometimes touched his teeth at the wrong place at the
wrong time.

After some awkward, not entirely
successful licking, Erick grasped Lowell with his left hand and pumped him,
closing his mouth over the head, and Lowell thought he would explode. Then he
did explode, and the one part of blow jobs Erick was very good at was
swallowing and drinking to the last.

“Hm,” Erick said smugly, rolling
back onto the bed. “I think I just figured out what works.”

“Yeah, I think you did.”

They lazed for a while until Lowell
remembered the cookies. They had dessert in the living room, stretched out
naked on the floor together, watching part of a
Die Hard
movie on TV.
Erick went to bed first, and Lowell finished the movie.

When he got into bed, he wasn’t entirely
surprised that Erick was awake and wanted to make out. Lowell held him and
rolled onto his back, enjoying Erick’s heavy, muscular weight pressing against
him as they kissed. Erick wrapped his legs around him and said, “Do you really
know what I want?”

Lowell smoothed his hands down
Erick’s back and rested them over his ass. “Yes.” He kissed Erick’s jaw and
neck. “You want me inside you?”

“Yes,” Erick said with a shudder.
His cock swelled, nudging against Lowell’s. “Is it what you want?”

As if he couldn’t tell, Lowell
thought wryly. He gazed at Erick and said, “Mm-hm,” and Erick blew out, “Oh,
good,” like he was relieved.

Lowell stroked Erick’s hair, a
thick, soft wavy carpet since he’d been keeping it short. “Erick?”

“I wasn’t sure,” Erick said quietly,
looking into his eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it almost nonstop for a week.”

Lowell sighed a little, still
stroking. “You should’ve said something. You know me. I’m always horny,” he
added with a grin.

Erick smiled back. “No, you’re not.
I’m the sex fiend, remember?”

“This is one competition where I
think we both win,” Lowell said with a chuckle.

Lowell made love to Erick. Filled
him, which was the most amazing, wonderful and frightening thing. He wanted to
go slow, let Erick feel how much he liked doing this, but he couldn’t go slow
because part of the incredibleness was Erick moving, wanting it faster. Urging
and holding him with his strength. So gorgeous spread out beneath him, writhing
and thrusting around him. Watching him. Needing more, needing everything Lowell
could give until they were both crashing and coming. Sharp, pure, intense.

They had to wake up early for
practice in the morning, so they collapsed into sleep. Lowell slept soundly,
thoroughly exhausted and content. He wasn’t entirely surprised when Erick woke
him up extra early and murmured in his ear, “I want it again.”

-----

Dale didn’t mind when Lowell blew
him off on Poitier’s Thai night; he figured Erick would be in a funk over Lee
and better to let Lowell take care of it. Afterwards, he felt like thanking
Lowell, because it was the first night Andy stayed over.

They’d made out lots of times
before, and a couple of times they’d brought each other off, still half
clothed. This was the first time they got naked together and squeezed into the
dorm bed, and Andy wanted the light on because he liked looking at him. He
liked touching him, everywhere, which made Dale want to touch back. It was
right and perfect in all the ways messing around with Lowell hadn’t been, and
Dale, wedged against the wall and holding Andy afterwards, blurted out, “Do you
want to fuck?”

Andy stretched, smiling. “Right
now? Uh, no.”

Dale grinned and kissed his temple.
“I didn’t mean now. I mean next time. Or in general.”

Andy rose up a little. His bangs
fell over his eyes and Dale smoothed them back.

“Do you like that?” Andy asked
quietly.

“Um.” Dale didn’t know how to
answer.
I didn’t like it much but I’m willing to give it another shot?

Andy watched him and said, “Did you
and Lowell fuck?”

“No! Oh my God, no.” Why did
everyone keep asking him that?

Andy laughed very softly and his
bangs fell forward again. “Okay. I didn’t think so. It’s just that you seemed
to go off to an uneasy place for a second and usually when that happens...”

“My Lowell issues,” Dale grumbled. “Well,
no. Not this time. In fact, I’ve had worse boyfriends than Lowell.”

Andy’s look invited him to
elaborate, but Dale pretty much never wanted to talk about Javier ever again.
Would be happy if the memory of Javier could be erased from his mind. Besides,
this wasn’t just about him.

“Do you like it? Fucking?” he
asked.

Andy’s cheeks colored slightly. He
licked his lips. “Um. Yeah.”

There was a hunger in his look that
warmed Dale, and if they hadn’t just spent themselves, Dale would’ve been more
than willing to give it another shot right that second.

“I see,” murmured Dale. A thought
occurred to him and he asked, “Top or bottom?”

Andy licked his lips again. “Um.
Both.”

A thread of fire rushed through
Dale’s veins and oh, how he wished it was a few hours later. “Really. You liked
both?”

“Yeah,” Andy said with a shy smile.
“What about you?”

Dale lightly tugged at Andy’s
bangs. “To tell you the truth, I’ve only ever bottomed. And...well, let’s just
say, I need to have another experience with it before I make up my mind, and
leave it at that. As for the other... I’ve never done it, so I don’t know yet.”

Andy gazed at him steadily. “I see.”
He touched Dale’s cheek and kissed him deeply, and drew back with a grin,
murmuring, “In other words, I just won the jackpot?”

Dale laughed. “I hope so.” He
kissed Andy and lazily slid his fingers over Andy’s skin. “I’m thinking that’s
a yes vote.”

Andy leaned to kiss Dale’s chest. “Mm.
That’s a yes vote. But it’s also a let’s-take-our-time-with-this vote.” He
looked into Dale’s eyes. “It’ll be worth the wait.”

Dale pulled him into another deep
kiss. “It better be.”

As it happened, the wait was only a
few days, since Lowell was going to be shacked up for the weekend with Erick,
and now that the idea was out there, Dale’s patience ebbed away. Andy wanted
Dale to fuck him first, which was fine by Dale even though he was also nervous
about it. But Andy was patient and horny and knew what he liked, and Dale was
quick to learn and it was fantastic. And later, though Dale would’ve loved to
fuck him again, he switched because he genuinely wanted to experience it again
before making up his mind.

Andy was so hard, wanted him so
much, but he was so careful. He took his time, touching Dale everywhere with
his hands, then his mouth, his tongue, bringing Dale to the brink a few times
until Dale thought he might pass out from the delicious tension. By the time
Andy pushed inside him, Dale was more than ready, and they fucked for a long
time, slowly, until each great wave of pleasure built up into one tremendous
crash and Dale came, and it was the most incredible, powerful thing with Andy
inside him. For a few seconds, until Andy bucked hard and came, and
that
was the most incredible, powerful thing.

Dale could barely move, barely
breathe afterwards. Andy got up for a few minutes, returned and flopped over
him, spread out across his back. Dale’s skin tingled in aftershock. He rubbed
his face against the pillow and said, “How did you learn to do that?”

Andy kissed the back of his neck. “Trial
and error,” he said ruefully. “And watching Internet porn.”

Dale tried to glance back at him
but couldn’t muster the energy to raise his head. “You’re joking, right?”

Andy slid into his line of sight,
smiling, and kissed his cheek. “Lots of trial, lots of error. The Internet porn
was to check that I had the basics right.”

“I don’t know if I believe you, but
I won’t complain.”

“Is that a yes vote?” Andy grinned.

“Not just a yes vote. A
you-have-to-show-me-how-to-do-that vote.”

Andy’s warm, hungry look made Dale’s
skin tingle again. “Oh, yeah.”

Later that morning Dale woke from a
nap, and Andy was watching him. Dale wanted to mess around -- actually, he
wanted to fuck again -- but after a tender kiss Andy caressed Dale’s shoulder
and chest, and Dale sensed it wasn’t totally the right time for sex yet. Andy
gazed at him and Dale, feeling self-conscious, asked, “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Andy said with a soft smile. “Admiring
the view.”

“Oh.” Dale blushed. He didn’t think
he was bad-looking, but he was no Lowell Menacker. “Much to admire, is there?”

“There is,” said Andy. He sounded
serious, and Dale looked at him questioningly.

Andy rested his hand on Dale’s
chest. “I admire how you went out for the football team, knowing how hard it
would be. That you’ve stayed with it despite the sacrifices.” Dale, who thought
that losing football would’ve been the biggest sacrifice of all, didn’t feel he
was doing much to earn admiration. Andy said, “You’re true to yourself, and
that’s what I admire the most.”

Dale flushed with embarrassment at
the praise. “Huh. That’s funny, because I think you’re way more true to
yourself than I am.”

“Do you?” Andy said curiously. “Hm.”

“Yeah. I mean, you’re out and
stuff. You don’t care if people know.”

Andy cocked his head and said
consideringly, “I wouldn’t say I don’t care, but I try not to dwell on it. I
can’t control what people think about me so it’s pointless to worry about it.”

Dale smiled. “You sound like Erick.”

“Do I?” Andy said with a slight
smile.

“Yeah. Oh, um. About his
quarterbacking, I mean. You know, everyone is an armchair expert.”

“Oh,” Andy said. “Yeah. Must be
tough for him to get so much attention during the season. But you, and, well,
Lowell and Erick, too, I guess -- you all stayed with football because it’s
something you love. You knew how difficult it would be to be on the team but
you weren’t willing to give it up. I think that’s really brave.”

Dale was flattered but he honestly
couldn’t see it the way Andy did. He thought of all the ways he tried to fit in
with the guys, all the tricks he used to avoid conversations about girlfriends
and good lays, all the mental gymnastics he performed to keep from noticing a
teammate’s hot bod. It wasn’t admirable or brave in his opinion; it was simply
tiring.

He said lightly, “Wasn’t there some
quote about ‘brave’ and ‘foolhardy’ being synonyms? To be honest, I didn’t
expect to make the team when I tried out, and when I did, I was so shocked I
joined without thinking. I knew it wouldn’t be ideal, but...”

“But the idea of turning them down
and not playing football for Crocker never occurred to you,” said Andy. He
kissed Dale softly. “That’s pretty much my point,” he murmured.

Dale was in the middle of writing a
difficult, complicated paragraph for his Legal Topics in International Business
class when Lowell came in, perched against the desk, and said, “I’ve solved our
housing problem.”

Dale saved his paper and looked up
at him. “You’ve found a solution to sub-prime mortgages and underwater loans?
See, I knew you weren’t just a pretty face.”

Lowell flicked a finger against
Dale’s forehead. “O
ur
housing problem. I was talking to my Developing
Nations TA and she was telling me about Rennie Hall.”

“That’s a graduate student dorm.”

Lowell smiled. “Not entirely. Dude.
This is Crocker’s best-kept secret. Half of it is grad students, but the first
two floors are undergrads. Upperclassmen only. It’s all quad suites. I checked
it out today, and they’re not bad. The bedrooms are about the same as Poitier’s.
Shared bath, and a shared common room that’s nicer than this one. Some of them
have little balconies. It’s an old building, so it’s a little creaky and it’s
way the hell away from the practice fields, but other than that, it’s perfect.”

Dale raised an eyebrow and folded
his arms across his chest. “I can anticipate your answer, but I’ll ask anyway:
who do you propose to populate this quad suite with?”

“Me and Erick, you and Andy,” Lowell
replied easily.

“Uh huh.”

Lowell frowned at him slightly and
went on, “But the best part is that we can move in there for summer classes and
stay there all summer and be there when fall quarter starts. Because of the
grad students living there, Rennie stays open all summer. There’s no dining
hall in it, which is kinda weird, but it’s not too far from the student union.
And Tassawan has a dining hall, it’s near Rennie.”

Dale turned back to his paper,
spotted a typo and corrected it. “Must be hard to get into.”

“It is,” Lowell said soberly. “But
my TA gave me some pointers. Plus, well, if it comes to that...we can play the
Erick card.”

Dale flicked him a glance. “What’s ‘the
Erick card’?”

Lowell’s smile was devious. “That
he needs a quiet, out-of-the-way dorm to stay away from the media. Hide from
his stalkers.”

“Erick has stalkers?”

“Only me,” Lowell said. “But you
never know. Especially if the word’s out he broke up with his girlfriend. They
could come knocking down his door.”

Dale, who remembered Erick’s
pre-Candace and pre-Lowell dating problems, said, “Uh huh.”

After a moment Lowell said, “You
don’t seem madly in love with this idea.”

Dale sat back, clasping his hands
behind his head. “I’m not. Yes, there are a lot of points in its favor. Being
able to move in for summer and stay in one place until next spring is a
definite bonus. But I gotta be honest here. I don’t think I’m ready to move in
with Andy; that’s a big step.”

Lowell pursed his lips. “Hm. What
were you thinking about the living arrangements?”

Dale shrugged. “I thought we’d stay
here.” He grinned at Lowell. “I’m used to you by now.”

Lowell gave him a steady look. “And
living with me and Erick would be...creepy.”

“Yeah, there’s that. Actually, I
think I could handle living with just you and Erick. Sooner or later I’d have
to kill you both, but before then, I’m sure it’d be all sunshine and rainbow
ponies. But me and Andy, with you and Erick? That’s about a fifteen on the
one-to-ten scale of creepitude. Think about it, homeboy.”

He expected Lowell to give another
pitch for Rennie, but Lowell mulled it over, and Dale tried to finish the
paragraph he was working on before he completely lost the thought.

“We can stay here for summer
quarter,” said Lowell. “Probably have to squeeze into Hopkins for training
camp. Maybe I can kick Anson out of Erick’s room... Oh. Oh, wait a minute.”

Dale gestured for him to shut up
and finished his paragraph. He sat back and said, “Okay, what now from the
brilliant blond Menacker brain?”

“Erick and Andy can get another
double in Poitier and we’ll stay here,” said Lowell. “That’d be easy. We’ll all
be seniors, we’ll get first dibs.”

“Oh.” It was a simple, elegant
solution. Dale rolled it over in his mind, looking for pitfalls. “Huh. That
might just work. If Andy and Erick agree to it.”

Lowell grinned. “And you thought I
was a dumb blond.”

Dale smiled softly, turning to his
laptop. “No, Menacker, I’ve never thought you were dumb. You’re an idiot
sometimes, but you’re not dumb.” He shot a glance at Lowell. “There’s a subtle
distinction. Oh hey, you guys clearing out of the shack this week? How are the
plants? I got an e-mail from Dr. Brandt. He’s coming back next Tuesday.”

Lowell looked like he did after
they lost the Hammer Game. “Yeah,” he sighed. “One last weekend, then goodbye
shack. The plants are okay. They’re green.”

“And he’s a botany whiz as well,” Dale
murmured. “That place better be spic-and-span, Menacker. I’m counting on you.”

Lowell rolled his eyes. “Yes,
mother. So you’ll run the idea past Andy? I’m gonna ask Erick now.”

“I’ll let you know,” Dale promised,
and went back to his paper.

Andy thought it over for a day
before saying yes. Dale texted Lowell about it and got the reply that Erick was
eighty-five percent on board. The fifteen percent doubt was because Erick hadn’t
talked it over with Anson and didn’t want to leave Anson hanging if he couldn’t
find another roommate for next year.

Not surprisingly, since it was the
shack’s last weekend, Dale didn’t see Lowell or Erick at all after Friday
morning practice, though Lowell came up for air long enough to text that Erick
had talked with Anson, everything was okay, Erick was one hundred percent on
board. Dale passed the good news to Andy on Saturday night while they lazed in
bed after fucking, Dale blanketing Andy in a loose sprawl.

“You sure about this?” Dale asked. “You
don’t really know Erick.”

“He was okay when I met him,” said
Andy. “And he can’t be worse than my roommate now.” Andy launched into a
diatribe against his current roommate’s bad habits, none of which Dale could
imagine Erick shared.

“Well, let’s see,” said Dale. “Erick’s
bad habits, aside from being Erick... There’s his beard. Oh God, you’ll have to
live with the beard.” He tapped Andy’s shoulder. “Hey, you can be our guy on
the inside. Get him to shave the damn thing.”

Andy waved this off. “Oh, no. I’m
not going to get between a man and his facial hair. You’re on your own for that
one.”

“Coward.” Dale poked Andy’s side. “Hm,
what else? Oh, he snores. But it’s probably not so bad when you’re in separate
rooms.”

“How do you know he snores?” Andy
asked, a slight edge to his curiosity.

“We’re hotel roommates. Away games.”

“Oh. Away games... That’s right.”

Dale raised up. “What’s wrong?”

Andy gazed at him and smiled a
little, smoothing Dale’s hair. “Nothing. Just now I realized, I got to know you
after the season was over. It’s going to be different in the fall. Away games.
Games every Saturday.”

Dale drew a figure-eight over Andy’s
shoulder and asked, “Will you come to the games?”

Andy narrowed his eyes in thought. “They
cost five bucks for students, right? Oh, hm, I don’t know. That’s a lot of
money.”

Dale gave him a puppy dog look. “I’ll
come to more of your basketball games if you come to my games.”

“Oh, of course I’m going to come to
your games,” Andy said with a grin. He lightly slapped Dale’s ass. “Silly.”

“You could come to some of the away
games, too. If you wanted to.”

“Can I sneak into your hotel room
after the game?”

Dale kissed him and smiled. “Only
after bed check. And we’d have to kick Erick out, but you know, he can deal.”

Andy kissed the tip of his nose. “Can’t
he go to Lowell’s room?”

“Lowell always rooms with
Kryzinski. But Erick can sleep on the floor.”

“Oooh,” Andy said with a wince. “You
are merciless.”

Dale grinned. “I am evil and
ruthless.” He kissed Andy and gently bit Andy’s lower lip. “The sooner you find
that out, the better.”

-----

Dale, Erick, and Lowell took summer
classes, so Dale and Lowell stayed in their room in Poitier and Erick stayed in
Hopkins with Josh Benton, who’d finished his B.A. and was accepted into a
master’s program. Benton drove Erick nuts -- he was a hyperactive night owl
addicted to an online game he played into the wee hours with the sound cranked
-- and Erick sought refuge at Poitier as often as possible. Dale laid down a “no
sex while Dale’s home” ground rule, which earned him a lethal glare from
Menacker and blushing chuckle from Erick.

Andy wasn’t taking any classes. He
had snagged a summer sales clerk job in the Crocker Galleria and was renting an
over-the-garage room from one of his basketball buddies. In theory it was an
ideal shack, but in reality it was kind of a dump with a musty, oily garage
smell, and running the microwave while the TV was on blew a fuse. It was also
fifteen miles from campus, and Dale only stayed over on weekends.

The evenings during the week
hanging out with Lowell and Erick weren’t totally creepy. They were kind of
nice, Dale had to admit. Most days after class, they would head for one of the
fields to get some practice throws in. Dale had missed this for the past year
-- just the three of them passing the ball around, and getting to admire Erick’s
skills without the chaos of an active field or the pressure of training. Erick
had always been good; he was fantastic now. Reaching new heights with his
accuracy, strength, and certainty when he released the ball. Dale couldn’t wait
for the season to start.

It was during these relaxed passing
sessions that Dale realized Lowell’s fretting about excessive attention on
Erick wasn’t Lowell being paranoid. They were attracting an audience. Not many
people, true, because during the summer the campus was eerily empty, but a few
random strangers of all ages would come by and sit or stand at the edge of the
field and watch. One day Dale overheard an observer explain to a passerby, “That’s
Erick West,” and the response wasn’t a, “Who?” but an awed, “Ohhh,” and the
passerby stopped to watch, too.

Inevitably, someone took video of
them practicing and put it online. The football office wasn’t pleased, though
Dale could never figure out why, exactly. He had the uneasy suspicion they
wanted exclusive marketing rights to Erick, but he told himself not to be so
cynical. Erick responded as Erick would: he didn’t want to piss anyone off, so
the sessions at the open fields came to an end. However, being Erick West, he
negotiated use of the team’s regular practice fields, which were screened from
the public. It wasn’t quite the same thing -- Dale couldn’t help feeling a
twinge of nostalgia for those days in freshman year when they could simply pick
up a ball and go outside -- but it was better than nothing.

When the sun would start to set,
they would grab dinner and go back to the dorm to study or hang out until Erick
would reluctantly return to “Benton and World War Three at a hundred decibels,”
as he gloomily called it. And sometimes Erick would sleep over, he and Lowell
crammed into Lowell’s bed together, and if they broke Dale’s ground rule, they
were at least very quiet about it.

One evening in mid-July, Dale sat
back from the desk, taking a visual break from the laptop screen, and looked
around the living area, lit in a pink-orange from the setting sun. Lowell was
sitting lengthwise on the sofa, reading on his laptop. Erick sat on the floor
beside him, using the sofa as a backrest, flipping through a course pack, his
laptop and a couple of open notebooks laid out around him. Every so often
Lowell would rest his hand on Erick’s head and rub the thick short waves of his
hair.

Dale wished he could preserve this
moment exactly as it was, bottle it forever. It was quiet and beautiful and
serene, and it made his heart ache a little, and filled him with happiness and
hope. He watched until the moment changed, almost imperceptibly, something tiny
taking away the perfection. He turned back to his laptop, and his first thought
was to try and describe the moment to Andy. But no, this was something private
and protected, between the three of them only.

When training camp started, they
were all stuffed into Hopkins, Dale ending up with Wotoa and a freshman
recruit, David Ntinde. Lowell drew the short straw and ended up with two
freshmen: Tim Mallory, a defensive tackle, and LeShawn Wells, the new running
back whose high school record had been the hot topic around the team ever since
Signing Day. Ntinde had alternated between safety and offensive tackle in high
school. He was pleasant, soft-spoken, slightly under Dale’s height, and Dale
figured he needed to add another forty pounds before he’d be of much use.
Mallory was a very large child -- there was no other way to put it. He looked
every bit as young as his seventeen years, and despite having a good eighty
pounds over Dale or Lowell, he seemed small and scared around them. Wells had
been a track star as well as a running back. He was cocky but not obnoxious,
and training camp would either beat the cockiness out of him or turn it into
confidence that wasn’t boastful.

The prospects for the upcoming
season were bright -- until the third day of training camp, when Dale popped
his right knee. It hurt like hell, and the doctors and trainers all came to
take a good, poking look at it. Coach Nevins, the new offensive coordinator,
okayed the final recommendation: crutches and physical therapy for the rest of
camp, and when school started they’d take it a week at a time. Dale could
continue upper-body strength training, but he was basically down for the rest
of camp.

Dale was frustrated and furious at
his leg for doing whatever it had done wrong, and he lashed out irrationally to
anyone who would listen, which tended to be Lowell or poor Ntinde. But his
setback was overshadowed the second week of camp by Erick breaking a finger.