A/N: random fact, i wrote this chapter in NYC sitting under a tree in central park. I took a 4 day vacation by myself for the pride parade and to see Hedwig and the Angry Inch at the beginning of the summer. It really has nothing to do with anything (except for the painting on Connor's surf board from last chapter) so i'll let you get reading. Hope you like it.


-
Chapter 3
-


Since Monday the week had calmed down significantly. Callie had returned in time for her hearing. She popped into his room to say hi after spending the evening in the kitchen with Stef and Lena discussing whatever it was that concerned them all. Jude said hi back but didn't get off his bed to give her a hug and never stopped tossing his baseball in the air and catching it as it fell back towards his head. His mind was occupied elsewhere. They hadn't gone surfing again, nor had Connor picked him again to be his stretching partner. He still said hi and Jude thought his smile was a little too lop sided to be simply cordial. Jude thought his glances still lingered too even though the outright staring had stopped. Jude had found his own glances doing the same, especially when Connor was helping whomever else stretch out their hamstrings. Jude couldn't help but watch as Connor would lean over the guy lying on his back, his leg up and bent, trapped between their bodies. He watched and imagined feeling Connor's weight pushing him down and seeing the tension in Connor's forearms as he pushed against his leg, forcing his body where he pleased He imagined being completely surrounded by him and trusting him enough to allow him to do so. He imagined looking up and seeing those intense brown eyes so close, almost as close as right before he had kissed him. He imagined seeing the sweat bead on Connor's skin as if the ocean was calling him back. And while Jude knew that the thought of it dripping from where it collected at his collar bone should have grossed him out, it didn't. It was like the ocean was calling them both back. He imagined seeing the tension in Connor's forearms as he pushed against his leg, forcing his body where he pleased.

Imagining was one thing though and Jude didn't know if he necessarily wanted to be that other boy. Maybe in the ideal fantasy world his heart pumped out with every beat it seemed appealing. In the real world though, the heart could not be trusted. It wasn't malicious in its misleading ways. It was just naïve. It pumped blood to the brain; it didn't receive years of knowledge and experience in return. And so Jude lived content in that week in the weird limbo he had come to exist in where he was happy to imagine himself as the boy laid out underneath Connor from a safe distance across the outfield. Maybe it was so easy for him because really, his life had always existed in limbo.

Saturday was when his proxy world began to crumble. He woke up early, early for teenager on summer vacation anyways, hopped on his skateboard, and headed to the field. That first week of camp hadn't been a disaster like he had expected but the other guys could run faster, throw harder, and hit further. And even if he had no intention of competing for a scholarship, Jude still wanted to keep up just enough so he wouldn't stand out in a bad way. Having nothing better to do, Jude had decided that weekend mornings would be his personal training time. And although teenage motivation was the newest oxymoron in his lexicon, there was a small voice in his head that made him go. It told him that yes, the other guys were better, but not by much. Their level of play is achievable. Jude had long thought that voice had been buried too deep to revive. He was a little scared of it, scared of the hope it would drag up, that he could once again be like the normal kids, only for it to be crushed, dragging him back down with it. He had an out though. He just wanted to not suck. That's all.

He hopped off his skate board when he reached the edge of the parking lot and leaned it up against the fence along the outfield. The jerky figure he had spotted hovering over the pitcher's mound was finally close enough that he could make out it was a person doing a hand stand. Jude started his run along the perimeter of the field, actually running this time instead of the usual light jog. When he reached the sandy infield, the person still balancing upside down called out to him. Jude couldn't make much out as he ran past the person but the blue bandana tied around his upside down head was enough. Connor.

He waved and kept running. This was the routine. Connor would say hi and Jude would politely acknowledge him but make no effort to continue the interaction. He didn't think Connor would ever tire of the little game but Jude didn't mind. He enjoyed it in the way he enjoyed watching Connor stretch out someone else's hamstring. It stirred the butterflies in his stomach without awaking them fully and leaving him feeling nauseous and panicked. He didn't know if that made him a bad person or not, someone who used other's affection for a bit of an ego boost and gave them back nothing in return. Maybe he was in the clear though because was a simple 'hi' really affection? Would anyone else consider this flirting? Did Connor even consider it flirting? Probably not given the fact that he had a designated spot for making his moves and everybody knew it was the beach and not the water or anywhere else.

As Jude made it out of the infield and back onto the grass, he glanced Connor's way and Connor was still holding his hand stand. He didn't jerk as much now though. It was kind of impressive, the way being able to tie a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue is impressive. He was sure it would garner a round of applause and a few introductions at a party but it didn't seem to have any real world application. It also seemed like a one-time use only kind of thing too because unless you had a fresh audience, you would quickly become the delusional, attention seeking, hand stand guy. Too deprived of oxygen to laugh, Jude smiled to himself wondering if Connor had already crossed that line with his bandana. Maybe he wasn't as big of a hot shot his forwardness made him out to be. Maybe others had already labeled him as a cocky, pretentious, idiot. He wouldn't be surprised. People were quick with labels, quick and mean.

Finishing his first lap, Jude felt that jolt of competitiveness kick in again. He began his second determined to run longer than Connor could keep his balance. By the end of lap two he knew he was going to lose. He was winded but Connor had seemingly found his zone. Jude watched as the small stutter steps he took with his hands came less and less often until he stood almost motionless above the pitcher's mound. While Jude struggled through his third lap of simple bipedal humanity, Connor defied it without effort.

"You're killing me," he called, his foot stepping over home plate for the fourth time and refusing to take him any further. Unless of course it was at a slower pace towards Connor. Connor didn't answer though. "What're you doing anyway?"

"Try it. It's good for the triceps. Push-ups are for the weak."

Jude didn't even know how to go about trying. He flicked his eyes back and forth between his hands, the ground and Connor a couple times hoping for some instructional diagram to appear. When it didn't and Connor didn't offer any further advice, Jude bent over, placed his palms into the gritty, hard packed sand, kicked his legs into the air, and promptly toppled head first into the ground.

"There you go! Starting to feel the burn yet?"

"Oh I feel it," he said shooting Connor a glare. Connor just laughed, his arms shaking for the first time since Jude had arrived. "I'm going to go do stairs." He stood up, walked a few steps, bent back down and kicked off again. And again toppled head over heels. "Yup. Stairs." He smiled though as he made his way over to the bleachers. It was impossible not to listening to Connor's laugh float out over the quiet, deserted field.

The smile stayed on his face as his shoes hammered up the wooden steps. They creaked and wheezed beneath him and Jude knew he had found the flaw in the otherwise pristine baseball field. In an odd way he found comfort in that flaw. Maybe because there was always a flaw. It was all he knew. Each new home had one. Before this one, that flaw had always stripped it of that title leaving it as just another house on another street. He hadn't found the flaw with Stef and Lena yet. Maybe it was that they weren't the traditional heterosexual couple. Obviously that was only a flaw to some, as most flaws were, and in Jude's case, he probably couldn't have asked for anything better. Old, rickety bleachers weren't as ideal as a practically certified LGBT safe home but it was a flaw he could live with. It added character to the model show home look of the field. In every rivet stress Jude could hear all the other kids who had ran up and down the steps. They may have just been running back and forth but they were striving for something, trying to better themselves, trying to strip that teenage motivation of its oxymoron status. And he could hear all the parents yelling and stomping and cheering in that overly competitive way that road the borderline of support and delusion. He was probably naïve to think so but Jude would take borderline delusional over abusive any day and so as his foot pushed off each step, he tried to absorb all of that extra, over the top, support that had been left there on the bleachers when the refs kicked the parents out of the game and the kids were too embarrassed to embrace it. Most importantly though, if the inevitable flaw existed here, that meant it wouldn't creep up unexpectedly elsewhere throughout the summer.

He was on set seven when Connor's arms finally gave in. By set eight, Connor was walking his way. Set nine, he'd taken a seat on the bottom bench. And after he'd finally finished set ten, Connor asked "Do you want to grab lunch?"

Jude paused, suddenly thankful for his heavy breath and the excuse it gave him to not answer right away. This was it. If he said yes, he'd be stepping off that borderline. It would no longer be happen stance that they ran into each other. And sure, friends could get lunch too but this wouldn't be that. That was too far of a stretch and Connor had never bought any of it anyway. Jude wondered if he'd seem like more of a joke if he gave in now or if continued to deny it. Giving in though just opened up a whole new plethora of ways in which he could make a fool of himself. They began and ended with the fact that he'd never had a boyfriend before. He didn't know how to kiss or cuddle or what made a good date. And maybe it was that inexperienced innocence that had appealed to Connor but that was more disturbing than comforting. The whole idea of attaching himself to a boy seemed frivolous and reckless and there were so many reasons to say no but he looked down to where Connor was sitting on the bleachers, eyes wide and unashamed and Jude just had to say yes.


"So," Jude said after they'd ordered. "Did Coach used to work here or something?"

"What?" Connor said tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy would. "That is probably one of the weirdest, most random question anyone has ever asked. Like in the history of question asking," he laughed.

"No," Jude protested meekly, Connor's laughter still as infectious as it was on the field. He nodded to the neon sign hanging over the long diner counter that stretched the length of the 1950s style restaurant. Jude had seen the place dozens of times but had never paid it any attention. It was cute though, as was the boy sitting across from him and in an unexpected way Connor seemed to fit right in with their red vinyl booth. Jude thought it was the collar. He'd thrown on a flannel after they finished working out and had buttoned it right to the top instead of leaving it open. The collar framed his features, the big round eyes, the plump pink lips, in a way the bandana and the strange way it poofed up his hair never did. "Shake Shack. Like is that why you call him Shakes?"

"Ahh," Connor beamed and god Jude was in awe of that smile. The upturned corners of his mouth looked like they lifted his entire body. It was so bright and free that there was no hint of some previous frown. Many times Jude had heard the saying that without the dark, one could not know the light. But Connor's smile, his real smile, not the mischievous one he twisted into a smirk, wasn't simply a manifestation of the light, it seemed to define it entirely. At least that's what Jude thought as he sat across from him with the knowledge that he had somehow been the cause of it. "Good guess but no."

"Why then?"

"You have to figure it out on your own, I'm afraid," Connor said leaning back in his chair, straightening up his shoulders and slipping that smile back into a smirk. "Don't worry though, I think it's pretty obvious."

That was of little comfort really. Mainstream thought and action were not really Connor's strengths. The bandana instead of a baseball hat, the nail polish, the way he had ordered a side of mayo with his fries – "It's a European thing," he'd shrugged when Jude raised an eyebrow – none of those were obvious and yet he walked around every day like they were the most normal, mundane things in the world. Jude would have never thought to do hand stands to build up his arms and so he highly questioned his ability to guess the reason, Connor's reason, for the name.

"Have you been to Europe?" Jude asked when their food arrive and he watched Connor proceed to dunk a french fry in the little bowl of mayo that usually held ketchup.

"No. My dad goes for work quite a bit. It always seems to be baseball season though so I can't go."

"That sucks. Well I've never even been out of California so you're not the only one."

"What? That's insane. How is that even possible?"

Jude had heard those words and that reaction before, it becoming more incredulous to people as the years went on. The way Connor said it was different somehow though. He was still surprised but his tone lacked the judgement that Jude was used to hearing. So he decided to answer. "We're uh, me and my sister-"

"I didn't know you had a sister."

"Oh, yeah, Callie. She's seventeen."

"What's she like? You get along?"

"We used to more so than now. She's gone a little… wild."

"Interesting."

"Very. Anyways, we're in the foster system. And we've been bounced around a lot and trips were never a priority for the families."

"Oh." Connor kind of froze then for a second, his hand stopping midway to his mouth. That was what Jude was afraid of. That's what he was always afraid of. No one ever knew what to say when they found out and so they stopped saying anything at all. Jude didn't blame them but that didn't make it any easier. But then Connor smiled again, that same bright smile like before. "So that's why you can't surf."

"Hey! I stood up!" He countered feigning offence.

"You did," Connor agreed. "But when you live five minutes from the beach, you learn to stand up when you're six. You looked good today on your skate board though," he added with a hint of a smirk.

"Thanks," Jude said ducking his head a little.

"Had to get good at your own transportation?"

Jude popped his head back up, a sudden wave of comfort washing over him. No one had ever made connections like that before. Probably because no one cared to look for them. Connor was the first. "Yeah. Exactly."

Connor smiled. "I haven't ridden mine in years. Can you do any tricks?"

"No. I used to try but it's not really my thing."

"What is your thing?"

Jude hated this question. He never had an acceptable answer because knowing legal terminology like 'Cease Reunification,' 'Maintenance Payment,' and 'Respite Care' or knowing how to pack up his life in under a minute was not something others knew how to handle. "Nothing, I guess," he shrugged, as he usually did.

Connor raise an eyebrow at him. "Well," he said. "Europe is good for that. Finding yourself and all. That's what they say at least."

"That is what they say," he nodded.

"We'll get there eventually. Plenty of time. I definitely want to go to Germany. Lots of homoerotic undertones there." When Jude didn't say anything Connor lifted his head. "Oh, right," he smirked with a wink. "Anyway, Berlin is still on my bucket list. During the pride parade. You've never done pride until you've done Berlin pride."

"It's not that - I just…" Jude tried to explain. He looked around. The little diner wasn't empty but no one was paying them any attention. "I've just never really… Being gay and like being gay are very different things." And there it was. Right out of the gate. He'd said something that made him look like a pathetic child. He looked down, past his plate of food, boring a whole in the table with his eyes and then through his feet and the floor, desperately wishing if he thought hard enough about it, he'd sink right in.

"True," Connor shrugged. "But what's the fun in being gay if you don't get to be gay. Internal struggle against the heteronormative current and constant outsider syndrome needs some sort relief. And well that comes from, you know, relief. Which is hard to get from girls if they're not your thing and that leaves just one option."

Jude felt his cheeks heat up at the mention of 'relief.' He looked back up tentatively, half expecting Connor to be pointing at himself. He wasn't though. He was just dunking another french fry into his mayo. "You wanna try? It's good. Europe knows a thing or two. They have been a civilization for like thousands of years."

Jude nodded, not really knowing what else to do. But maybe that was because there was nothing else to do. He reached across the table to dip just the very tip of one of his own fries into Connor's mayo. "I think the Native Americans would argue that America has too."

"Touche. Cute and wise. So?"

"It's good," Jude nodded, ignoring the observation.

"Better than ketchup?"

"Maybe." It was definitely less acidic and less sugary. It didn't burn the back of his throat.

"See, I think I just converted you."

Jude felt Connor's foot tap his under the table. It was so gentle that Jude could have easily thought it was an accident. He knew it wasn't though. Connor may not do mainstream but what he did was done with intent. When he didn't pull his foot away and tuck it under his chair, the reflexes in his leg started to tingle. Or maybe it was something else. Either way, Jude kept his foot where it was and Connor's came to rest beside his. "Maybe," he answered, turning his ankle in a bit to nudge Connor back.