The Quarterback's Crush Page 5

  “Shut the hell up, Russell.” My voice was a growl.

  “Peterson,” Russell leaned on the locker on the other side of Tommy. “Listen, I really need to pick up a few things on the way home, and I’m plain out of cash, so I’m going to have to borrow some from you.” He held out his hand, and I saw Tommy swallow.

  I don’t know how I moved so fast, but I stepped up right into Russell’s face standing between the two of them. “Tommy doesn’t have any cash for you, Russell. Tommy’s not going to have any cash for you and your buddies anymore.” I poked a finger into Russell’s chest. “If you have anything you want to talk to Tommy about from now on, you talk to me first. You got it?”

  “Awww, what’s the problem, Dylan? You sweet on this faggot?”

  “If you use that word again…,” I growled and knew my knuckles were going white because I was squeezing my fists so tight and getting ready to swing. I kept my eyes on Russell. “Tommy, why don’t you head down to the parking lot?” I wanted Tommy to get far away from here before something happened. Mainly my fist in Russell’s face.

  “Dylan.” Tommy’s voice was so quiet at first, I almost didn’t hear him. “Please don’t do this.” He paused. “I don’t want you to do this.” I was breathing heavy, and I was so close to putting Russell’s face through the locker, I almost didn’t feel Tommy’s hand tugging on the back of my jacket. “Dylan, please.”

  My jaw clenched, and I took one step back, making sure I stayed in between Russell and Tommy. “Get the hell out of here, Russell.”

  “What’s your problem, Porter?” Russell looked half-freaked out and half-pissed, and I was still tensed up, waiting for Travers to take a swing at me. Russell was as tall as me, but a little bit lighter. I’d never seen him fight, but he had a solid bat swing, so I was pretty sure he had a good punch. Still, I was so pissed off I figured I could take him down.

  “Right now? You are. Take a walk, Travers. A really long walk.”

  He hesitated for one second, then looked at me. “Jerk.” He walked down the hall, and I waited until he was around the corner before I turned to Tommy. “Is he the one who’s been bothering you?” Tommy flinched, like I was about to hit him. I realized I was mad and all that anger was coming out at Tommy, even though he was the last person in the world I was mad at. “Sorry.” I breathed out. “Sorry. I’m not mad at you. Don’t be afraid, Tommy. I promise I’m not mad.” I sighed. “Tommy, I really need you to promise me something.”

  “You were scaring me. I don’t want to see you like that.” He tried to smile, but I didn’t believe it for one second. “I might promise you something. Might.”

  “Tommy, I’m serious. If someone bothers you here at all, I need you to tell me, so I can fix it.” I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I’m worried about you. And I’m sorry I scared you. That’s the last thing I’d ever want.” I took my hand away. and I wanted to make sure he knew he could count on me, but, of course, I didn’t want to bully him into telling me anything he didn’t want to tell me. Ugh. This was hard. How the hell do you watch over someone who won’t let you watch over them? I was quiet for a second. “Okay. No promises. I get it.” I took a breath, before I said what was really on my mind. “It was just that word.”

  “Fag?” Tommy smiled again, but this time it was sad. “He’s called me that every day since we were in fifth grade.” I wanted to shake him until he got it in his head how awesome he was, but I knew shaking babies was bad, and I figured if it was bad for babies, then it probably wasn’t really good for adults, so I didn’t shake him. He didn’t look angry, but I figured he was. Maybe because I knew I would be if Russell talked to me like that and I’d never had to live through it. “It’s no big deal.”

  “It is, Tommy. It’s a big deal.”

  “Because it’s a bad thing to be?”

  “What?” I didn’t want to have this conversation while we were standing in a hallway at school. “Tommy, of course it’s not bad. You know I don’t think that.”

  “I guess.” Now he was back to that quiet voice, and I knew he didn’t believe me. An hour ago, Tommy and I were getting along, laughing, maybe even flirting and now he thought I hated gay people. All I had to do was say three little words and he’d know that wasn’t true. Three words.

  “Tommy, I don’t think that.” I inhaled. “I didn’t like him using that word. He wanted to hurt you.” I opened my mouth to say something. I wasn’t sure if I’d make it only three words. I ramble when I’m nervous and I was really nervous. My mouth was dry, and I closed my mouth and then opened it again, the words right on the tip of my tongue when Riley shouted from behind me.

  “Hey, Dylan!”

  I turned my head and tilted my chin to Riley automatically, like I had for years. “What’s up, dude?”

  “Left my jersey here, and, you know.” Riley shrugged and looked at Tommy. “Hey.”

  “Hi,” Tommy said. He wasn’t smiling anymore, happy or sad. I really hoped it was just because of Russell and not because Riley had been mean to him too.

  “Riley needs to sleep with his jersey the week of a game. It protects him from bad dreams and absorbs the good ones. The good dreams help out during the game.”

  Tommy nodded. “Oh, of course.” He closed the locker and looked at Riley. “It makes sense to me.”

  Riley reached out and patted Tommy’s shoulder. “Thank you! Dylan thinks I’m superstitious.”

  Tommy stuffed a couple of extra books in his bag and smiled for real. “You might be superstitious, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have merit.”

  Riley nodded. “Exactly. It’s like having a control group for any medical and drug test. You need to know where your baseline is before expanding.”

  “Tommy, Riley. Riley, this is Tommy Peterson. My tutor.”

  Riley held out his hand and Tommy shook it. “Nice to meet you, Tommy. You keeping this guy”—Riley smacked me hard on the chest—“on the team? He’s hopeless. Is he hopeless? You can tell me.”

  “He’s my test subject for my tutoring skills,” Tommy laughed. “If I can get him at least a B, then I can charge more.”

  Riley laughed, which made Tommy laugh. Riley had that ability. He could make anyone laugh. “A capitalist and compassionate toward the needy. Nice.”

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about the two of them teaming up, but if I had a real choice in anything, I’d want my best friend and (please, God, please, please, please) my boyfriend to like each other. “I’m not needy.”

  “Tommy, correct me if I’m wrong, but being in need makes you needy, right?”

  I got to the door that went to the parking lot first and pushed it open for them.

  “Well,” Tommy said as he walked out, “technically, yes. It’s not really the contemporary usage, but I understand where you’re coming from.”

  I opened the car door for Tommy, which I thought Riley might say something about, but he didn’t even seem to notice.

  “You coming to the game tomorrow, Tommy?” Riley pulled out his car keys and started jingling them in his hand. “Be great to see you there.”

  “Sorry, Riley,” Tommy said, making sure he wasn’t stepping on his own backpack. “I don’t think I can. Studying. But I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Studying on a Friday night?” Riley laughed. “That’s dedication. See you guys tomorrow.”

  I waved and opened my own car door. I tossed my backpack in the back seat and put my seat belt on. Tommy looked over at me.

  “So, that’s Riley?”

  “Yep.”

  “He seems nice.” Tommy fiddled with the fingers on his left hand.

  “He’s a great guy. If you ever need anything, and I’m not around, find Riley. He’ll take care of you. It. He’ll take care of it.”

  Tommy sighed, but he couldn’t quite work the annoyance into his voice. Not full-on annoyance anyway.” I don’t need you or your friends to beat up anyone for
me.”

  Okay, that caught me off guard a little bit. “I didn’t think you did. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry. You should’ve told me it was Russell picking on you. I could’ve helped.” Now I sighed. I didn’t want to fight. Not with Tommy. “Sometimes we all need someone to watch our backs, Tommy. We’re a team, you and me. I always watch out for the guys on my team.”

  He sat back in the car and watched the streets go by out the window. “Two people isn’t a team. It’s called a duo.” He paused. “And, by the way, thank you. I appreciate you looking out for me. But you don’t need to do it. Besides if you get into a fight, you’ll get kicked off the team and expelled. Zero tolerance policy for physical altercations.”

  “You have to stop thinking that I think I need to do things for you. I want to do things for you, Tommy.” I sighed as I pulled onto his street. “I like to see you happy. And I want to know that you’re safe. And if that means that I need to walk you to class to make sure you’re safe, then I don’t care.” I wasn’t angry, and I knew I was being the pushy jock he hated, but I couldn’t stop it, which made me feel like a jerk. “You can be mad at me if you want, but I’m not going to apologize for worrying. Does that make sense?” He didn’t answer me, and I pulled into his driveway. “I’ll text you tomorrow.” He opened the car door. “And in wrestling they call two people a tag team, so two people can be a team.”

  He nodded slowly. “I will keep that in mind.”

  HOW I TALK WITHOUT THINKING

  FRIDAY, IN between school and the night game, sometime right before a really light, solo dinner (because Dad was working late. Again.) I tried out a few versions.

  To: Big Brain

  From: You

  Hey! I got u a ticket to game. U better be there or else!!! Lol.

  No. Too much like I’m gonna bully him and beat him up.

  To: Big Brain

  From: You

  Hey man. Got u a ticket to the game just in case you can make it. Hope to see u there

  Nope. That says I don’t care if he shows up. Should I spell out “you?”

  To: Big Brain

  From: You

  Please come to the game. I got u a ticket next to Riley’s dad. He’s a cool guy.

  Definitely not! I might as well be a chick. Okay, Dylan. Stop. Take a deep breath. Now think. How would he really want me to ask? Nice, polite, to the point. Casual but still well spelled. Yes, dude, for God’s sake, spell out your words! He’s your tutor.

  To: Big Brain

  From: You

  Hey, Tommy. I got you a ticket for the game, if you can come after all. It’d be great if you could come. I’d really like it if you could. Let me know if you can make it, okay? You can hang with Riley’s dad during the game, and I’ll take you out for burgers after. I owe you for helping me stay on the team.

  MAYBE DELETE that last sentence? Maybe I should leave it. Let him know I owe him? Or do I play it more like we’re a team? Stop overthinking everything, Dylan. Okay. Just hit Send, idiot. Just. Hit. Send.

  I hit Send and then tossed my dishes in the sink. I grabbed my keys to head back to the school and my phone buzzed. I got a two-line text from Tommy.

  I’ll see if I can make it. Good luck with the game.

  I was all the way in my car and down the street before I realized I was humming.

  I went to the school weight room for a quick, easy weight routine. Nothing too heavy, but I left my phone in the locker so I wouldn’t get distracted. I got to the locker room, just as the rest of the guys started to show up and checked my phone. Tommy hadn’t sent anything else. That’s cool. I knew he was studying. I was a little anxious about him and a little anxious about the game, but I tried to put Tommy out of my head. We’d beat Westfield every time we played them, and they’d be out to make us look bad today.

  Coach McCarty gave us the usual pep talk and we ran out onto the field. Before we flipped for the kickoff, I took a quick look up at the stands behind our sideline and saw an empty seat. Tommy hadn’t shown up after all.

  DeShawn won the coin toss, and we received the ball. Riley caught it, and we managed to get it all the way back to the forty-yard line before they brought him down. The next few plays were a blur, and we didn’t get much more yardage. That’s when it happened.

  I got the ball from Dave and was looking for a long toss, waiting for Riley to lose the guy from Westfield who was watching him. I was buying time and stepped back three steps. Right in my eye line, was Tommy’s empty seat. I hesitated a second too long and the biggest Westfield player plowed into my gut.

  Westfield was back in control, and I was anything but. All I could think of was why Tommy wasn’t there. Didn’t he know how much I wanted him to be there? Sure, I left it up to him, but it meant a lot to me. And he did say he’d try to make it.

  The only reason Westfield didn’t score more during the first half wasn’t because I rallied and pushed on without thinking of Tommy’s smile. It was because they just sucked. Truth told, they hadn’t won a game since the late 1980s. That was pretty much the only saving grace. That and the coach benched me during the second quarter and sent in Steven. Unfortunately, Steven got his knee clipped about halfway through, so Coach sent me back in with a warning to “pull my head out of my posterior.” He actually almost used another word, until he saw the art teacher behind him.

  By halftime, I’d thrown three interceptions, been sacked twice, and even the cheerleaders were shouting at me. When I’d dropped the ball from the easiest snap ever, Coach couldn’t even yell at me anymore; he shook his head in disgust. We dragged our asses back to the locker room at halftime and Coach came back, yelled at me for five minutes and then stormed out and went to sit in his office.

  The whole locker room was quiet for a minute when Jonny came across the room and sat down on the bench next to me. “Dude, what’s going on? You’re playing like a blind seven-year-old.”

  I looked around the locker room. “I’m really sorry guys. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” That was a lie. I knew exactly what was wrong. I couldn’t play because Tommy wasn’t in the crowd, even though he said he would be. He said he would try, but I thought he’d come. Hoped he would. I couldn’t play because Tommy didn’t love me the way that I loved him. I couldn’t play because Tommy didn’t even know I loved him. I couldn’t play because Tommy was the only thing I could think about. I wanted to say all that but instead I said, “I’m just having an off day, I guess.”

  “An off day?” Dave snapped at me. “An off day is one or two plays that get screwed up. Seriously, dude. An off day is not the quarterback and the co-captain falling apart in front of us.”

  “Cut him some slack, man.” Riley stepped up and stood next to me. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Seriously, though, Dyl. You really suck today.”

  “What is it?” DeShawn said. His shaved head was sweaty, and he stared down at me like he wanted to hit me until I told him what was going on. “What’s going on, man?”

  “I….” I hesitated and choked on my own words. I couldn’t tell them about Tommy. Or me. I couldn’t tell them about me. “I can’t really say.”

  “Why not?” Chad crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the lockers.

  “Because I can’t!” I snapped at the whole team.

  “Why not?” Chad bent down and looked me in the eyes. “Are you on drugs?”

  “What? No. Of course not! I can’t tell you, because you’re all looking at me like I’m crazy, but if I tell you what’s really going on, you’ll look at me like you hate me and I’m crazy, and it’s senior year, and I didn’t think I’d have to do this for another two years, maybe three if I played my cards right and I can’t do this now, because I’m only eighteen and I should be dating a nice girl and my dad should be talking to me!” I was practically shouting at this point and I was pretty sure, from the looks on everyone’s face that I was actually sounding as crazy as I thought I was.

  Steven looked at me, his eyes n
arrowing, and I thought for one split second that he might actually be following my crazy train of thought. “Nope,” he finally said. “I thought I had it, but I couldn’t get there. I’m going to guess this is about your dad?”

  I didn’t know what to do. I realized I wasn’t as confident as I thought. I thought I was okay with being gay. And I was. Really. Just maybe not as okay as I thought. I stood up and walked to the lockers. I rested my head against the metal, and it was cool and calmed me down. For about two seconds, and then I started crying. Seriously. Crying. I don’t cry. Ever. “I’m sorry guys. It’s just that you dudes are my best friends. I don’t want to lose that, but it’s something really bad, and I don’t know what to do, and I’m really sorry because I’m letting everyone down.”

  Everything was blurry, and I couldn’t tell who was looking at me and who was looking at everybody else because all I could see was shapes of uniforms.

  Finally, I could hear Riley’s voice. “Did you hit someone with your car?”

  “What? Of course not. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I know you didn’t do anything bad to my family, so I was trying to think of something that’d make me hate you,” Riley said. He started listing things on his hand. “So, no hit and run, no murder, no robbery?” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, man, you set someone’s house on fire.”

  I had no idea what the hell was going on in his head. “What the hell are you thinking?” I shouted. “You’ve known me almost my whole life and you think I’m running around town, lighting fires? What the hell? No, you idiot. I’m gay!” I actually shouted it, and, honest to God, this was the actual one time I didn’t think I was going to say it. “I’m gay and I’m in love and he doesn’t know I exist and it’s messing up my focus and I don’t know why he doesn’t like me. No idea. Okay, so I’m not that smart, but I’m good-looking and a nice guy and he should at least like me a little.” I looked up at everyone. All those words had just kind of jumped out of my mouth, like a belch. Bad analogy (vocabulary word from three weeks ago) but I think you get it. And then, once I said it, once the truth was out there, I felt… kind of amazing. I didn’t have to hide anymore. I didn’t have to worry about someone finding out. It felt amazing and wonderful and every good thing I could possibly think of. For, like, maybe three seconds.