New Kid
Chapter Three
Michael didn’t see Brian until lunch the next day and he was almost frantic by the time he caught sight of him coming out of the food line. His eye was black and he was moving sort of stiffly, but if you didn’t know better, you’d wouldn’t think that much of it.
“Brian. Over here.”
He sat down, container of milk and apple on his tray.
“You don’t eat much, do you?” Brian just shrugged. “…Are you OK? You were gone this morning and Mom was kind of worried about you.” So was he, truth be known. Michael’s mother had actually told him that if Brian had felt well enough to leave early, then he was probably just fine.
“I’m alright, I had to get clothes and my shit for school, that’s all.” He downed the milk. “…I’m sorry about last night. It won’t happen again.”
“You feel OK? Mom and Uncle Vic were really worried.”
“I’m better today. The ice helped; there were almost no blisters. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, well, if it does happen again or anything, you can come back.”
Saying nothing to that, Brian just gave a brief nod. “Thanks.”
An older boy joined them, sitting at the end of the table, next to Brian. He was vaguely familiar. “Kinney? So you’re the freshman who made the squad. You were fucking good out there yesterday, man, I was watching you. Damn good.”
Shit, right. That’s who it was, Keith White, the captain of the soccer team, all-state, hunk extraordinaire, a body to kill for and green eyes that rivaled the grass. Brian got hard just looking at him.
Damn, he was almost tongue tied, like a girl for God’s sake. C’mon, be cool.
“Thanks, Keith. You’re pretty good yourself.” Say something, Damnit, say something. “I was sort of surprised that they put me on Varsity, I expected to be JV for a year.”
“Fuck me, are you kidding? You’re better than I was when I was a freshman. By the time you’re a junior, you should be all state yourself.”
“…Thanks, Keith.”
“Hey, I’ll catch you at practice, OK?”
Brian nodded, “You bet.” Keith got up, moving to join his friends up at the senior tables in the front of the room.
“Brian? You know Keith White?”
He’d forgotten about Mikey. Shit. “Yeah, he’s team captain. I saw him yesterday.”
“He’s so hot.” He noticed that Mikey looked sad and wondered if he was jealous.
Brian didn’t say anything, just took his apple and stood up. “I have to get a book. Later.” He went to the boy’s locker room, figuring that it would probably be empty this time of day. He was lucky, he was right.
Letting himself in, he went to the bathroom, locking himself in one of the stalls. Within five minutes he had quickly jerked himself off. Pulling up his jeans, he was relieved enough so that he could go to class without embarrassing himself as he heard the bell ringing.
After school he was changing for practice when Keith sauntered over to him, leaning against the bank of lockers. “I didn’t want to ask you in front of that kid at lunch, but what happened to your face? Someone hit you?”
Normally Brian would have just told someone who asked him something like that to fuck off, but he couldn’t with Keith looking like he actually cared just a foot away from him.
He sort of gave a half shrug.
“Shit—was it one of the fag hating assholes?” He whispered so that just he and Brian could hear what he said. Brian was stunned, just staring at the older boy.
“What?”
“Was it?” Keith was staring at him, through him, wanting an answer. “I’ll take care of it—who did it?”
He whispered back, “No, no, it wasn’t—it was my father.” Jesus. He didn’t believe he’d said that. He’d never told anyone. Never.
Shit. Fuck.
Brian stumbled on, awkward, trying to reverse what he’d just said. “I mean, I didn’t mean it was—it wasn’t him, it –I just tripped. It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”
Keith was staring. “Your father?” He looked at the floor. “Ah, shit. Brian…”
“What did you mean ‘fag hating’? Why did you say that?”
They were still whispering. “I’m one, too. I know what it’s like, man, I’ll look out for you, OK?” Wilkins, the coach was blowing his whistle, calling them out to the field. They moved automatically. “Brian? Count on it. You’re my little brother now. I’m gonna watch out for you.”
“Come on, gentlemen, today, if you don’t mind.”
They joined the rest of the team members on the field, starting with ten easy laps, Brian staying behind like a good freshman should—until they came up to the last two laps. He started moving up through the pack, easily passing one runner after another, passing on the outside and barely breathing hard. With three quarters of a lap to go he had pulled equal with the front-runners, Keith still in the lead.
He spared him a glance when Brian moved abreast and the two of them loped past the finish line side by side, finally sprawling on the infield grass about a yard from one another.
“Usually no one else can keep up with me. You really are better than I was as a freshman.” He didn’t seem angry, he looked somehow pleased. “I think you’re going to give me a run for my money here, Bri.”
Brian breathed out a smiled. No one had ever called him that before, no one had ever thought to give him a nickname, no one had ever cared enough to bother. “I was afraid that you’d be mad.”
“Fuck, no.” The others were finishing the laps, too, the coach calling them to gather for whatever was next. Keith started to get up, pausing. “You want to catch a movie or something with me this weekend?”
“…Really?”
“No, I’m kidding.” He watched the youngster’s face fall. “Well, yeah, I mean it. Saturday OK?”
“Saturday’s fine.”
“What?”
“You sure you want to?”
“I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t mean it, you twat”, but he smiled to take the sting out of the words. Shit. He had a date.
Goddamn.
He noticed Mikey in the stands as he jogged over to the rest of the team, tossing him a small wave. The small boy didn’t look too pleased. Well, he’d have to just get over it. They could be friends, sure, no problem, but—shit, Keith was fucking hot.
After the practice Mikey was waiting by his locker again. “I was hoping that you’d come by here after practice, I thought that we could maybe go to that diner your Mom works at—I’d like to thank her about, you know—last night.”
Mikey’s eyes lit up. “That would be great, she’d appreciate that, she really would.”
As they were walking the half-mile to Liberty Avenue Michael tried to pump Brian about what he had seen between him and Keith down on the track that afternoon.
“He’s a nice guy, that’s all, he’s sort of taking me under his wing because I’m new on the team and he’s the captain. It’s no big deal.”
“But we can still be friends, right?” He looked worried that Brian would laugh at him.
“It’s fine. Yeah.” They walked for another block, stopping right in front of the diner’s windows. “Hey, Mikey? Thanks.”
The answering smile was wide but all he did was duck his head a little, nodding.
The encounter with Mikey’s mother was short and left Brian feeling oddly pleased. She had walked over to them when the boys had walked in, taken a long look at Brian’s face, gently put her hand on his good cheek and told him that he could always come to their house, no matter what time it was. If no one was home, the key was under the planter on the back step.
Anytime at all. If he couldn’t come under his own power, all he had to do was call and they’d come get him. And that was a promise.
There was a quick sting of tears in Brian’s eyes, which he immediately pushed back, but he thanked her.
She was one of the only people in his life who was willing to go out of their way for him and he could barely stop himself from wondering if there was some ulterior motive, but could find nothing that she would stand to gain by being kind to him. Incredible.
Jesus. It was almost worth the black eye.
Suddenly shy, he made an excuse about being expected home and left quickly, Debbie understanding and making Michael stay in the dinner so Brian could sort it out without distraction.
The rest of the week was uneventful. His classes for the year were fine; a couple of them were even interesting. They were all easy for him; he’d probably ace them. Brian saw Keith passing in the hallways between fourth and fifth periods and they would nod or smile to one another, but no more. He began looking forward to seeing the older boy then, looking at it as a bright spot in his day. He also looked to the soccer practices as the best part of the entire day, knowing that he and Keith would be able to be together and talk to one another without anyone being suspicious.
The other team members quickly understood that Brian, though still a freshman, was easily among the best players on the squad, despite being the youngest. The fact that he was admired and encouraged instead of being a source of jealousy was a testament to Keith’s abilities as the team captain. It was his attitude that diffused any potential problems before they could build to a head. It was quickly apparent that not only were Brian and Keith the two leading players on the team, but that Brian would probably be groomed as captain in due course—baring injury or something unexpected happening.
The two young men were careful to never cross any lines of propriety, never touched one another, never had any suggestive conversations. They were discrete and no one suspected that not only were they both gay, but that they were as strongly attracted to each other as they were.
Late Friday afternoon, the practice ended and the thirty or so members
of the Varsity team were changing back to their street clothes to go scatter
when someone suggested pizza over at the
Brian, the lone freshman was at the far end of the room at his own locker, away from the older boys and didn’t hear. He was included, of course, he was welcome. They wanted him there, he simply didn’t hear. Slinging his backpack over one shoulder, he left unnoticed through the back door. The clouds were getting dark and the air had that heavy feeling that a thunderstorm would be arriving any time now. He got home before it broke, but barely.
About nine that night he was reading up in his room. It was pouring out. Joanie was at church saying a station of the cross for someone or other, Claire was Christ knew where and Jack was passed out in front of the TV when he heard the doorbell.
“Yes?…Keith.”
“Bri. I’ve been sent to get you—why the fuck aren’t you over at Tom’s?”
“What the Hell are you talking about?”
“Party for the soccer team, c’mon, get your shoes.”
“Yeah, but I…”
“Cut the crap, get your shoes and get your ass in the car. You’re keeping me waiting.”
Two minutes later they were closing the doors of Keith’s car. It was the first time Brian had ever been in a Mercedes, let along a convertible even if the top was up because of the rain still pounding down. He tried for cool.
“Nice car.”
“Yeah, not bad—birthday present when I turned seventeen.”
There was a pause, Brian feeling the tension between them but too inexperienced to know what to do about it. He waited for Keith to start the engine, but he seemed like he was trying to build up to something.
“…I like you Bri. I know you’re a freshman and all, but you’re smart and you’re good on the team and you’re, you’re …” He ran out of words.
“I’m gay?” He had never said the words out loud before, they were quiet.
“Yeah.” Keith leaned over towards Brian, catching his jaw lightly with his hand and turned his face so that he could just brush Brian’s mouth with his own. They pulled a couple of inches apart, Brian breathing heavily and staring in some shock at the older boy. “Bri? Are you mad? I’m not trying to push you if you’re not ready for anything.”
Brian just shook his head slightly then leaned across the six inches separating them for another kiss, this time firmer and though inexperienced, completely willing.
Keith brushed the tip of his tongue across Brian’s lips, hearing the gasp and slipping just the slightest bit inside the youngster’s mouth. He could feel the hitch in his breathing as their tongues touched.
He pulled back, searching Brian’s face. His eyes were huge, his breathing deep and even in the dark car he could see the bulge in his jeans.
“I think we should get you to the party before I compromise your virtue.”
Shy, Brian gave a small laugh. “…Do you still want to go to the movies tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I would.”
Screwing up all his nerve he asked, “You mean like a date?”
“Like a real date, you twat. Now we need to make an appearance at Tom’s.”
He started the car, riding in silence for a few blocks.
“Keith? Does anyone know?”
“That I’m gay?”
“Yeah.”
“…You do.”
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