~ Chapter 7: Victor ~
The car was quiet as we pulled into the parking lot. I'd been to NCTC, the community college in Graham, every single year that we'd lived in Texas because we had an annual church event that was hosted there. There was something different about knowing that, in a few hours, my family would drive away without me.
I didn't know why I was getting so in my head about it. I wasn't leaving forever. In six weeks, I'd be back home sleeping in my own bed. "Flip me. I want to see the building."
"Right." I quickly flipped my camera so Benji could see the looming brick building. I'd called him when my dad gave me the five-minute warning. Benji didn't have a concert today, but he was supposed to be rehearsing later. He couldn't have gotten much sleep last night because he'd texted me at 2 am to let me know he was back at his room, but he'd been adamant that he wanted to be here too (in the only way he could be). He'd been half asleep when I FaceTimed him, his eyes droopy and tired. He'd insisted he was fine and, once he stepped outside, he did look more awake. He'd already walked to some coffee shop that was apparently ten seconds away from his motel (because he wouldn't even consider the free coffee the motel offered) and was sipping his coffee in the hallway outside his room - he didn't want to wake up Stevie. "I'm gonna pass you to Pilar for a minute while I check in."
I didn't wait for his answer before I gave her my phone and got out. My mom got out as well. Everyone else was waiting here for me to get my room key, but my mom couldn't fathom the idea of letting me walk in by myself. It probably should have been embarrassing, but I was relieved that she was here with me.
Check-in was… anticlimactic. There was a kid that couldn't have been much older than me manning the table. I was handed a bag of stuff, a room key, a map of campus, and an itinerary of the day with "12:00 pm - Kick-Off in the Cafeteria" highlighted before he went back to his laptop.
The whole process took a maybe minute. Finding my room took longer, but between all of us, we managed to figure it out. According to the little paper basketballs on the door, my roommate's name was Daniel. "That's cute," my mom commented while I keyed in.
My roommate hadn't gotten here yet (not surprising considering check-in was from 8-11 and we'd gotten here at like 8:01), so I walked into an empty room. The white walls and empty furniture almost made it feel like I was walking into an abandoned house.
"Okay," I said out loud. "I guess I pick the bed."
"Go with the one on the left," Benji suggested.
"Why?" Pilar asked. She sounded a little out of breath. She hated her crutches and immediately took a seat at one of the desks. I was only on the second floor but stairs were tough when she had to hobble up them on one foot. She'd barely left our apartment since she fell because it was too much of a hassle.
"He likes sleeping on his left side and that will let him face the room," Benji explained. I put my duffle bag on top of the desk Pilar was sitting at. "In case, you know, a serial killer tries to break in."
"Okay, that seemed totally reasonable at the time," I told him. Vegas could be a shady place and I had been so tired after a full day wandering around Vegas and, really, was it so far from the realm of possibility that he had to bring it up every time we spent the night together?
It didn't take long for us to unpack. I didn't bring a ton of stuff. I'd had to buy all new bedding because my supply list had a sheet size that I didn't know existed. Other than bedding, clothes, and toiletries, I didn't bring much. Just a photo of me and Benji, a photo of my family, and the small Puerto Rican flag that had hung in my bedroom since I was a baby. Tia Lera had given it to me when I was baptized, and I felt weird about going away for so long without it.
That was all I brought. Apparently, Pilar and Adrian had conspired to make sure that my room felt like "a home away from home". Under Pilar's strict supervision, Adrian taped a bunch of pictures to the wall above my bed. I had to admit that I did kind of like it. They'd found a bunch of different pictures. Some I knew had come from my Instagram, but they must've gone on Mia's and Benji's too because I didn't know a lot of these existed. When Adrian finished, Pilar hobbled over to my bed and the three of us sat and looked at them. I made a mental note to have Benji help me hang them up around my room at home when this program was over. Some were of family, some had Mia, Andrew, Lake, and Lucy from our trip to Vegas, and a few were of me and Felix, but most of them were of me and Benji. Then there was a pride flag because Pilar thought it was about time I owned my pride… whatever that meant. So much of my life was depicted in these photos. My dad sat at my desk while my mom hopped onto the top of my desk.
The kick-off was open to families as well because most kids either flew here or had a really long road trip, so we had time to kill. We spent that time reminiscing about the memories in the photos on the wall or talking about the most unimportant, nonsensical stuff. We hadn't had the chance to be together like this in a long time. Between my work schedule and my parent's work schedules, it felt like we never got to see each other. We technically had last night, but there was this thick, unspoken tension that I knew we were all aware of. Part of it came from the fact that we'd only just gotten our shit together as a family and the other part… well, we were just like that.
It was while Benji was thrilling us with a story about some girl that climbed on stage the night before and got taken away by security that my roommate walked in.
He looked surprised to see so many people in here. "Hey, man," I said while I hopped off my bed. "I think I'm your roommate. I'm Victor."
"Danny," he greeted. He looked back at my family again and his eyes took in my wall of photos. Without another word, he turned and walked out.
"Weird." I felt an ominous tension settle in me.
"Maybe he realized this wasn't his room?" My mom suggested.
"Yeah. I guess so."
I found out when we gathered in the cafeteria that that was not the case. It was as far from the case as it possibly could be.
I was almost used to being out by now; it hadn't occurred to me that attending this program would be like coming out for the first time all over again. It should have. I wasn't oblivious enough to pretend that coming out was a one-and-done experience, but I hadn't been prepared for my roommate to see the pictures of me and Benji and walk out. Yeah, that was all it had taken. Maybe if I had given more thought to what this would be like, especially after how horrible it had been with my Creekwood team when I first came out, I wouldn't have been so blindsided.
My mom was livid, but what was she going to do? By the muttering under her breath, she definitely wanted to do something. It took a fair amount of pleading and a lie that I wasn't upset about it to get her to drop it.
I was pissed too, but she couldn't fight this one for me. Plus, I figured Daniel was one person. Except, when the time came to say goodbye to our families and we gathered as just the "scholarship kids", I noticed more than a few glances and whispers heading in my direction. It was hard to tell whether they were good or bad whispers and I didn't try to find out. I didn't have it in me.
I expected our first day to be slow because we only had six hours, but they crammed every second of that six hours with stuff. We had to meet one-on-one with one of the four program coaches to do a skills showcase; I ended up with the head coach, Coach Fitzgerald. She was the only female coach at the program and had a strict no-nonsense air to her. From the whispers I'd overheard during class, she was kind of a hardass. She timed me on a mile before she asked me to shoot a ton of baskets from different positions, pass with some players from the UGA team, and block some attempted shots. Almost everything was repeated with different levels of pressure from the UGA players. The showcase lasted almost thirty minutes. I was in the group that was pulled out of practice. The other half of the scholarship kids were pulled out of the class we were taking. It was a relief to hear my name be called during practice; practice essentially consisted of different sprints, shots, drills, and whatever else the players on the UGA team wanted to throw at us. I think they actually got some kind of perverse pleasure out of torturing us. It made the practices I went through at Creekwood feel like leisurely walks around the park. The class was a whole different story. I thought it was going to be pretty cool. It was an Introduction to Health and Wellness class that was supposed to help us create an exercise and diet plan to maximize our training. We got a heavy nutrition textbook and were essentially told to read and outline until our time was up.
Our normal schedule would be far more intensive than our first day had been, which was hard to imagine.
After dinner, we had what a peppy girl in a bright red shirt who seemed to bounce on her feet with every word called "mandatory fun". It was a "special treat" for us on our first day of the program. I'd hoped that this was the only time we'd have to do this because mandatory fun ended up being a bunch of introduction activities that made me want to flee the gym. When she was dismissing us, she let us know that there would be more mandatory fun every Saturday of the program. That part was going to suck, and it was only made worse by the fact that she called it mandatory fun. When I went back to my room, I could hear sounds from the hallway that told me some people were meeting up, but no one tried to invite me and I didn't poke my head out to see what was happening. Maybe they would have welcomed me with open arms but after Danny had been repelled by a picture, I just didn't have it in me to chance it.
The knock came about fifteen minutes after I got back to my room. I opened it to see a kid I vaguely recognized. He had a bag pulled over his shoulder and a suitcase behind him. "They're shoving you in here, huh?" I sounded bitter, but I couldn't help it.
"I guess so. Danny's gonna take my bed and I'll be in here."
"Oh. You know why Danny left, right?"
He was quiet for a long time before he turned his gaze to me. "Yes," he said firmly.
"Okay."
"I'm Jared."
"Victor."
That was it. Which was fine. I didn't need to make friends here. I texted Benji all night, and I figured that was better than whatever was causing the loud laughter from the common area outside my room. Definitely better. I wondered if it would start to feel true if I thought it loud enough. Would this part ever stop sucking?
We had an early start the next day, so around 10, Jared turned off the light and claimed that he was exhausted after move-in.
I couldn't sleep. I was every bit as exhausted as Jared, but my brain would not shut off. All I could think about was how, here, I didn't even have Benji or Felix or Lake or any of the people that made me feel like I wasn't just the gay kid. Here, that was how they would see me for the next six weeks. Part of me was scared. This was supposed to be my chance to go to a four-year college without having to worry about how we'd pay for it or stacking up on college loans. But… but. If it was going to be like this over and over and over again, was it worth it? Would it be better to go to a different school and forget about basketball altogether?
"Victor?"
I honestly thought I imagined it because my name was uttered while my brain was actively running through everything that could go wrong tomorrow. We hadn't had to deal with the locker room situation today because we'd had a break before dinner, but we wouldn't have that luxury tomorrow. Our daily schedule would be packed from start to finish with practice, class, different workshops, and more practice. After the first week, we'd start scrimmaging instead of having a second afternoon practice. There were so many things that could go wrong at various points in my day. I desperately hoped I was building it up to be something it wasn't, but I highly doubted that pink hair was going to be in my future here.
When I forced myself to let go of that running list, I didn't hear anything but Jared's slow breathing. Then, "Victor?"
"Yeah?" I asked uncertainly.
"I didn't get moved here. I volunteered."
I sat up in bed. "What? Why didn't you say that?" I demanded.
"I was scared." I heard a slight movement before he turned on his light.
"Of what? I'm not gonna hit on you or anything."
He laughed. "I didn't think you would. When Danny was telling everyone about you… shit, sorry. You did know that, right?"
"I figured," I told him uncomfortably.
"Yeah. It's messed up. He said it looked like you had a boyfriend but didn't seem to realize that meant you weren't interested in him. I asked Coach Fitzgerald if I could trade spots with him during my one-on-one, and she said she was fine with it. I told her us Georgians need to stick together. She pulled us aside after dinner and made it seem like it was her decision and everything."
"But… why? Don't get me wrong… I'm grateful that someone here doesn't suck, but… why would you want to room with me?"
He let out a huffy breath. "Did you know I live in Atlanta too?"
It clicked at that moment. "I kept thinking you looked familiar. You play for NAH." I had a flash of a tall kid that was on me like a shadow the entire game. God, I'd hated him.
"Yeah. And you play for Creekwood."
"You remembered me?"
"Of course. It's hard to forget someone as annoyingly good as you are."
I snorted. "Sure."
"We used to beat Creekwood every year. Then, all of a sudden, you were there. I remember our coach told us that this wasn't the Creekwood we were used to. You kicked our asses."
I frowned. I hadn't realized that I'd made much of a difference but, looking back on it, it was kind of weird that there were four starting sophomores when I moved here. In Texas, I'd been the only starter that wasn't a senior, and Matt and I had been the only sophomores on the varsity team.
"You didn't make it easy," I acknowledged.
He nodded once. "I heard about you before the first game we played in the fall. About how you were… you know."
"Gay?" I guessed.
"Yeah." He clasped his hands together. "I guess I asked Coach if I could room with you because you get it."
"Get what?"
He didn't answer me. Instead, he asked, "you're fully out?"
"Yes."
"Like, you have a boyfriend and everyone knows you have a boyfriend and you were planning on being out here even before Danny told everyone?."
I blinked a few times as I made sense of his question. "Yes," I repeated.
"How did you do that?"
"Why do you care?" I demanded.
"Because maybe if I know how you did it, I can figure out how to do it myself."
For a moment, time seemed to stand still. "Do it yourself," I whispered quietly. I squeezed my eyes shut. "I was in denial for a long time. Then I met Benji."
"The boyfriend?"
"Yeah. My boyfriend. We've been together a little over a year. You want to know how I did it, but I didn't do anything special. We started dating the last day of school last year, and I came out to my family that night. Benji makes me so happy and I didn't want to have to hide that part of my life. I'd spent too much time hiding it and I hurt so many people because of it."
"You're so lucky that everyone was cool with it."
I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. "They weren't," I said quietly. "Especially my mom. It was rough for a while, but it needed to happen."
"Hmmm."
"If I'm being honest, it wasn't just my mom. My friends took it really well. Obviously, Benji was by my side through all of it, but my teammates… well, you saw what happened from some pictures of me and Benji. A lot of my teammates were…"
"Dicks?" Jared guessed.
"Yeah. I almost quit basketball."
"Shit. Really?"
"Yeah. I didn't want to be around people that didn't want me to be me, but I loved playing."
"Pink hair didn't hurt, did it?"
"How do you know about that?" I asked.
"Atlanta is big but it's not that big. You are 'proof of Atlanta's blossoming inclusivity'. You know you were on the news, right?"
I stared at him with my mouth slightly agape for a moment. "Yeah. This is the face of someone that knew that."
Jared snorted. "I don't know how you missed it."
I had a feeling that I was a little preoccupied by my crumbling romantic life but that was too much to unpack right now. "Dunno," I muttered. "Does anyone know about you?"
"Um… my two ex-boyfriends and my ex-girlfriend sort of know. They know I'm not straight. It's actually the reason me and my girlfriend broke up." I could relate to that. I'd assumed he was in the same boat as me where he'd tried to date a girl before he realized that it wasn't going to happen for him until he said, "she couldn't handle that I'm into guys and girls. She told me that she was happy I knew who I was, but she needed to be with a straight guy."
"That's messed up."
"Yeah." He was quiet for a minute. "I'm pansexual." He let out a shaky breath. "Wow. That feels so great to say out loud."
"Good." I studied him for a minute. "If you want to talk about it, you can, you know. I know how terrified I was when I was in the closet. I started talking to one of my friends about it and it helped a lot."
He sucked in his lip before he nodded resolutely. We probably should have slept because we had our first full day the next day, but we didn't. We stayed up all night talking. It was surprisingly nice. I'd kind of expected it to be like talking to Rahim in the early days before everything got complicated, but it was it's own thing. Jared didn't want advice; he didn't need it. He just wanted someone to see him for once. Even with his boyfriend, he didn't feel seen because he couldn't be seen. He felt like he split himself between who he was with his family, who he was at school, and who he was with his boyfriend. He constantly had to pretend to be the perfect son, to be the dumbass jock, or to be the kid that didn't give a shit to have to hide his relationship even though he gave just about as many shits as he possibly could. He didn't let anyone see him.
I wasn't sure if Jared was going to want to spend time with me when everyone else was around, but when we walked to the cafeteria, he sat down across from me after we got our food. He wasn't the only one. This short kid sat down next to me with a tray stacked with enough toast for the whole table. I recognized him from yesterday but couldn't remember his name for the life of me.
"Hey. I'm Ian." He had a slight accent that I didn't recognize. He ate a spoonful of his oatmeal.
"Victor."
"Jared."
"Where are you from?" Ian asked. I glanced at Jared. Were we just going to pretend this was completely normal? When Jared shrugged, I realized we were.
"Atlanta," we answered at the same time.
"What about you?" I asked.
"I hail from the proud state of Alaska. This is my first time in the lower 48."
I glanced at Jared, but he looked as confused as I felt. "The what?" He asked.
"The lower 48. You know… the states."
"But there are 49 states lower than Alaska." I felt like it was obvious, but I needed to say it anyway.
"Yeah, but we don't count Hawaii."
"Of course not," Jared said. "Alaska. That's… far. This has gotta be a big change for you."
Ian shrugged. "It's really hot here. It was 62 degrees when I left which I thought was hot but…"
"It broke a hundred yesterday?" Jared suggested.
Ian nodded. "I don't know how you do it every day. I thought I was going to melt."
I couldn't help my laugh. "You get used to it."
"Who could possibly get used to this? It should never be hot enough for Satan to feel at home."
Jared snorted into his coffee, and I wasn't sure what was making me laugh more. Ian looked pleased with himself. As breakfast went on, Ian admitted he wanted to be a comedian. He was going to get his degree first because he wanted a backup, but I thought he had a shot with comedy. He was hilarious.
There were a lot of people at breakfast. I realized we were together with the kids that paid to be here. There were more than I was expecting. The girl's program was also here. We'd only seen them in passing yesterday; their practice was in a different gym, but I guessed we'd be together for meals.
When breakfast was over, we walked to the gym. All four program coaches were standing in front of the bleachers. They wasted no time. At 7 am on the dot, Coach Larson started to talk despite the fact that kids were still filing in. It would have been funny to watch all the kids running late try to quietly run to find a spot on the bleachers if Coach Larson hadn't just dropped a bomb of huge proportions. We were being ranked. They'd given us a score yesterday based on our skills showcase and were going to post the rankings.
Rankings would be updated daily based on our practice and scrimmage performances. He explained that the rankings would allow college scouts to see where we stood in comparison to everyone else and would also give us the chance to see where everyone else stood so we could make our teams. We needed to form teams of 5 by Friday. He taped a piece of paper to the wall and told us to meet him in the team room once we found our ranking.
I didn't even try to stand up right away. Too many people flocked to read the paper, and I knew I wouldn't get close. I did notice the number of kids that turned to look at me when they saw the rankings. That either meant I did really good or really bad. It only made me more nervous. When most of the gym had cleared, we stood up.
I stared at the paper for a solid minute. "Damn, Salazar," Ian crowed.
Ian was down at 27, but you'd never know that looking at him right now. He had a huge smile on his face. Jared was 9. It was a great ranking, which wasn't surprising at all from what I'd seen when we'd played NAH. And me? The black ink that spelled out my name seemed to shimmer under the fluorescents right next to the bolded number 2. Second. They thought I was the second most skilled person here. I couldn't wrap my head around that. We were here with the thirty best high school basketball players in the country. And they put me second.
Jared thumped my back. "You good?" he asked.
I could only nod. Second.
"Okay… think you're ready to… I don't know. Go in?" Ian asked. I shook my head. "Sure, sure. I'm sure they won't mind waiting for you."
I let out a quiet chuckle. "Sorry. I just can't believe this."
"I believe it. I told you you were good," Jared pointed out.
"Yeah, but…" I shook my head. "You're right. Let's go in." I desperately wanted to talk to my dad, but I knew it would have to wait.
We were the last to get to the team room. I was grateful that they got started right away because the stares were making me feel self-conscious.
They took every minute of the hour we had slotted for the playbook. They pointed out that the plays we run at whatever college we end up at might be different, but being able to memorize and implement plays was a skill we needed to develop. We got a binder with a ton of different plays in it. We only got through the first three today. With every play, they walked us through what it would look like in detail, explained the pros and cons of it, and played a simulation of it.
I thought they were just going to dismiss us to the locker room to change for our morning practice, but Coach Fitzgerald spoke to us first. "Many of you have reached out to one of us regarding the locker room and shower situation." I sunk in my chair. I knew what was coming. She was going to say that I would be changing somewhere different so that everyone would be more comfortable. Just like Coach Ford. I just wish she'd told me before everyone else, but I guess this went along with her whole we-won't-hold-your-hand-through-the-program spiel from earlier. Her eyes found mine and I ducked my head. Why was she waiting so long to say it? I'd have preferred for her to just rip off the Band-Aid. "Let me be clear. The purpose of this program is to prepare you for college. If I ever had a player talk to me like some of you talked to me yesterday, that player would never see playing time. IF you play in college, you're going to have to do stuff that you don't want to do so that starts today. If you are uncomfortable, that's on you. Figure out how to change and shower, but we will not discriminate against anyone in this program, and those of you who had the audacity to ask better think about whether you are a good fit for this program or for college basketball. Understood?"
"But, Fitz," some kid called. I didn't turn towards the voice. I didn't want to know.
"It is Coach Fitzgerald," she said harshly. "You have to earn the right to call me Fitz. If you would like to file a complaint, you may do so while you pack your bags. This is nonnegotiable." No one dared utter a word after that.
I stared at her. I could feel eyes on me, but I didn't care. She really went there. I didn't know exactly what had me so stunned… maybe that she didn't even know me and she still stood up for me or that she obviously hadn't even considered asking me to change somewhere else. I felt dangerously close to crying and I took deep breaths because there was no way in hell I was crying right now.
When we were dismissed, I hung back. "I'll meet you there," I muttered to Jared and Ian. Once everyone left, I went up to the coaches. "Coach Fitzgerald?" She turned to face me. "I just wanted to say thank you." I think I sounded surprised, but I couldn't do anything about that.
She studied me for a long time. "You don't need to thank me."
"I do. Since I came out, I haven't felt like I fit into basketball because at my high school…"
"We're going to head over," Coach James whispered before he, Coach Larson, and Coach O'Malley left. I felt like it was better that way. I felt less like I was in the spotlight.
"I love playing, but it was really hard to be a gay basketball player. Thank you for making me feel like I belong here."
"You do belong here, Victor." It surprised me that she called me Victor. I was so used to people exclusively calling me "Salazar" when I played. "Do you know how we select candidates for this program?"
I shook my head. I knew Coach Ford had nominated me but, beyond that, I had no idea how they chose us. "We watch any available footage from all of your high school games. We saw the first game you played in Graham. 98 points. That was impressive for a freshman. Impressive for anyone. You were on our radar even before we got your nomination."
"Oh."
"You look surprised."
"I thought I was chosen because of Coach Ford's recommendation."
"That was part of it," she agreed. "His recommendation only highlighted how impressive your performance from this year was."
"Impressive? We had a losing season."
"Yeah, you did. But you still stood out as an exemplary player. In the fall, you inspired your team to be one of the first to openly take a stance in support of the LGBTQ population. Part of succeeding in college basketball is knowing when to be a leader and when to follow. You have an aptitude for both; you demonstrated technical skill that even sets you apart from your peers here; you had the guts to be an openly out male athlete; your grades are well over our qualifying threshold. Those are valuable traits for a basketball player. No one is here by coincidence or because they fill a quota so, if that's what you thought, think differently."
"So… my ranking."
"Earned by your merit." She picked up her clipboard and flipped through until she pulled out a scoresheet with my name on it. There were so many columns, but I got the gist of it. Each category was worth a certain number of points depending on the difficulty. Blocking was worth 5 points each and I'd blocked 4 out of the 5 attempted baskets for 20 points. At the bottom, my total score was highlighted in yellow. Out of a total possible 150 points, I'd earned 132 of them. "It was objective. You either completed the task. Or you didn't. The players that were helping us out didn't even know your name."
I nodded. She was right. Despite the insecurity I'd felt that I'd only gotten this spot because I am gay, I'd earned it. "Thank you." I started to turn to leave.
"Oh, Victor?" I glanced back. "You should call me Fitz."
I nodded again before I headed to the locker room. I didn't think I was ever going to stop smiling. It was mostly empty by the time I got there. Only a kid whose name was… Charles or Cory or something like that was still changing.
I changed quickly and got to practice. They made me run some laps because I was late. I didn't try to point out that I'd been with Fitz. Chris, I realized his name was, was late as well and ran by my side. He was silent, not saying a word the whole time.
Everyone else was already paired up when we finished, so we spent the two hours of practice silently running through the drills they asked us to do.
After practice, we had two hours of conditioning which turned out to be an hour in the weight room and then an hour running through one of the academic buildings because our coaches felt it was too hot to run outside. We had to split up into three groups, and I made sure to end up with Ian and Jared.
"Alright," Coach Larson called. "We're going to do an Indian Sprint."
"I don't think that's politically correct," Ian whispered.
"Because we know many of you are unfamiliar with the campus, we have a few volunteers to help make sure you don't get lost."
I hadn't noticed the three people sitting in the bleachers until they stood up. Each of them came to one of our groups. Our guy, a really, really, really tall kid named Wilbur, led us out of the gym into one of the nearby academic buildings. He lined us up and started to guide us through the halls and up the steps. We did two laps so we could get used to the path before he asked, "does anyone not know how to do an Indian Sprint?"
"Seriously, are we even allowed to call it that?" Ian asked again under his breath. He looked around and when he saw no one raised their hands, he asked us, "and what exactly is it?"
"The person from the back of the line sprints to the front," I told him. "They get to set the pace until the next person sprints to the front. You keep going as long as you're told to."
"Ugh. Running," Ian groaned.
"You have to be able to run up and down the court," I pointed out.
"Yeah but that's not as terrible as just running. It's like… why even do it if you're not trying to get the ball from one end of the court to the other?"
"Because if you don't do it now, you're gonna be slow AF on the court," Jared pointed out. "And you're not dragging our asses down."
Ian looked stunned for a second. "You still want me on your team? I'm one of the worst players here." It was at that exact moment that I realized Ian's whole act before had just been an act. He was upset about his ranking.
Jared raised his eyebrows at me. "Of course," I agreed. "We'll show them… once we find two other people."
"Are we done chatting?" Wilbur asked.
I realized everyone else lined up, which put us at the back. We hastily got ourselves in line. I was in the back, so I got to kick us off. We only had to go for about forty-five minutes, so it wasn't too bad. I'd done worse. Ten people meant we had reasonably long jogging breaks in between sprints. That didn't make it any less exhausting.
I think we were all a little sore by the time we stumbled into the cafeteria. At least we had a full hour for lunch and then class after lunch. Class was intense. It turned out we were getting homework. And a grade. It wasn't just a supplement to the program. We were taking an actual college-level course that could transfer to whatever school we went to as long as that school had an equivalent class. I was starting to see why the program was so expensive if you didn't have a scholarship. The course just happened to focus our wellness on basketball instead of general wellness. Our professor seemed annoyed that he had to explain that to us again, but I didn't think he'd mentioned anything about us getting a grade yesterday. I felt like someone would have remembered.
Our classwork for the day was to establish a workout plan; for homework, we'd need to implement it. We had access to the training room before and after our daily responsibilities. Our professor (a middle-aged man named Tony Tiger - I wish I was joking - who told us to call him Tony because Mr. Tiger was the man who "traumatized" him by naming him after a cereal mascot) told us that the plan needed to include both strength training and daily cardio. Ian was the one to point out that we already had conditioning five days a week.
"That is just this week. Starting next week, that time will be a chance for you to work with your established teams to prepare for your scrimmages. You'll need to supplement with your plan." It was another thing he said like it shouldn't have been news to us, but it was.
I hadn't known that, but it made sense. Once he gave us our assignment, like yesterday, we were on our own to work on it.
Jared, Ian, and I collaborated, so we finished pretty early and got to spend the rest of class just messing around.
After another practice and dinner, we were finally done for the day. When we got back to our dorm room, I took a quick shower. When Jared left to take a shower, I tried to call Benji.
I wasn't surprised when he didn't answer. They were on their way to New York. I hoped he'd be there soon, but I didn't know when they left. They were planning on leaving early in the morning because it was supposed to be a seven-hour drive, but Benji had been up until almost 1 yesterday, so who knew?
When he didn't answer, I called my dad. "Hey, macho," he answered. "How was your second day?"
"It was unbelievable, pop."
"Tell me all about it. Hold on a sec. Yeah, it's Victor." He was quiet for a second before he said, "I put you on speaker."
"Hey, mijo. We miss you," my mom said.
"I miss you too."
"He was about to tell me about his second day."
Just as I expected, my dad was every bit as excited and proud when I filled them in. My mom was proud too, but basketball was always a thing my dad and I could share. It meant something different coming from him.
Benji must have been a little psychic because the moment my parents hung up on me, he FaceTimed me. "Hey," he said, his face filling my screen.
"Hi." I yawned so big my eyes watered. No. I was not going to fall asleep right now. I needed to pull it together for a few minutes.
"You're tired."
"I didn't sleep much last night. How was the drive?"
"Long," he complained. "It took us nearly eleven hours to get here with traffic. I never want to be in a car in New York City again."
"Except for when you come home. It'll be worth it," I told him.
"Yeah," he agreed. "It will be."
"That Benji?" Jared asked.
"Yeah. This is my roommate, Jared." I flipped the camera so Benji could see him. "Jared, Benji."
"Hey. Victor's told me a lot about you." Jared waved towards my phone.
I couldn't even correct him because I had probably gone a little overboard talking about Benji. Ian had made the same joke about a hundred times. "Oh, is your boyfriend on tour? You really should have mentioned it."
"Hi. It's nice to meet you?" Benji sounded confused. In defense of him, Jared and I had our breakthrough after Benji went to bed.
I flipped Benji back so he was facing me. "Jared's cool."
"That's good," he said cautiously.
"And there's this other kid, Ian. He's from Alaska."
Benji's smile was a little more genuine this time. "So it's going better today?"
I nodded. "Much better."
Maybe I jinxed it because before Benji could get a word out, there was a knock on our door. Jared opened the door to see a kid… I couldn't remember his name for the life of me.
He was built like Jared but was a little shorter. He stood in our doorway a moment not saying a word. "Can we help you with something?" Jared asked. He opened and closed his mouth but still didn't say anything. "Cool. Good talk."
"Victor, right?" he said, looking at me.
"Yeah."
"My name's Luke." He looked down at the carpet. "Man, I'm new at this stuff, but…" He sighed. "It's not cool. What happened."
"What do you mean?" I asked. My mind immediately went to the comments people made that I didn't belong here; I'd done an okay job ignoring them because I knew that they were wrong. "Look, I deserve to be here just as much as everyone else does."
Luke stared at me. "You don't know."
"Don't know what?"
He looked down at the floor again looking unmistakably uncomfortable. "You and this boyfriend. Did something happen a few months back? Something big?"
Benji was the one to answer him. "Yes." The word was a whisper. I was too frozen to react. I knew at that point. I knew what Luke was getting at, but I didn't think I was capable of processing it. Or maybe I thought the longer we went without him confirming it, the longer I could believe that it wasn't true.
Before Luke could tell us, Ian came running in. He hunched over and put his hands on his knees. "I…" He took a deep breath. "Fucking." Another deep breath. "Hate." In and out. "Running." It took him a minute to catch his breath. I had no idea where he came from, but he obviously hadn't been in the building. "There's a video… oh." He cocked his head and looked at Luke. "Why didn't I get invited to the party?"
I still couldn't react. There's a video… yeah, there certainly was a video. A video I thought we'd put behind us. "We're never gonna be past this, are we?" I whispered. I knew that Luke and Ian were probably waiting for me to say something, but I could only stare at the sheets on my bed.
He sighed. "I'm so sorry, Vic." All I wanted was to hug Benji and hear him tell me that this would be fine. That we'd get through it together, just like we did when we got back from Vegas. He couldn't do that because he was over 800 miles away from me. "Hey, look at me." I looked at my phone. "It'll be okay."
I looked over at Luke and Ian. "Will it?" I asked.
Luke frowned. "It's messed up. I guess someone Google your name and found it. When I first heard, I thought it was fake."
"My guess would be someone's pissed that you outranked them," Ian supplied. "If you ask me… the video's kind of hot."
I put my hand over my ears. "Please don't say things like that."
"Can someone tell me what's going on?" Jared asked.
I pulled my blanket over my head. I could hear them whispering, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Benji was about as close to his screen as he could be. "I wish I was there."
"Me too."
The last four and a half weeks had been hard, but this? I thought being stuck in Atlanta when he'd been in his accident was difficult; this was right up there. He was hypothetically right in front of me, but I felt every one of those 800 miles.
We didn't talk; I just stayed under my blanket and looked at him wishing I could physically manifest him in front of me. We stayed like that until Jared removed the little sanctuary I'd constructed for myself. "Hey!" I protested. I sat up and reached for my blanket. He dropped it on his bed.
"Luke has his car on campus," Jared said. "We're going out." As he held up my shoes for me, I quickly realized that I was included in "we".
I eyed him warily. "Where exactly are we going?"
"Out," he said evasively.
"We're running on no sleep," I told him.
"Are you gonna fall asleep right now?"
"No," I reluctantly admitted. Part of me was exhausted, but the bigger part of me was in the early stages of panic. "We're not supposed to leave."
"Really? Is this the hill you're gonna die on?" Ian asked.
"I guess not." I put on my shoes.
"Call me when you get back," Benji said. He looked as reluctant as I felt to hang up.
"I will," I promised before I ended the call. I stared at my screen even after he disappeared. This sucked.
I thought we were going to play basketball on one of the outdoor courts or something, so I was taken aback when we pulled up to a bowling alley. As Luke said, we spent all day living "that basketball life", and he thought there was something about throwing a heavy ball that relieved stress.
It was fun. The last time I bowled, I hadn't had to try. I loved Benji, but bowling was not one of his many talents. Tonight, we were all reasonably well-matched which resulted in one of the most competitive games I'd ever played. Luke was cool. When Ian was in the bathroom and Jared was bowling, he admitted that he'd never met a gay person before. He was from a small town in Alabama where, if there were any gay people, they were not open about it. He insisted that he could tell me the names of almost everyone that lived in town. He actually attended a private school nearly an hour from where he lived specifically so he could play basketball because his local high school didn't have a team. He'd very reluctantly told me all that; I thought he was just genuinely afraid that he might say the wrong thing because this was new for him.
I had a feeling that was never going to be a problem because for someone that grew up in a bubble, he was miraculously aware that everyone around him was different. We stayed until the bowling alley manager told us that they were closed and we needed to leave. This was a needed reminder that maybe I didn't have Benji right now, but I wasn't going through this alone.
The next day was… weird. There was an announcement during breakfast that we weren't supposed to leave campus without permission no matter the circumstances. No one specifically talked to us, but they obviously knew and, given that we didn't get in trouble, they must've known why we left. Everyone knew but no one talked about it. They just whispered and laughed.
My mind kept going to Benji and how he fearlessly had taken everything on when we'd gotten back from Vegas. I wished that could've been me. I wished I could've walked up to someone and asked them what was so funny about our privacy being violated. I didn't do any of that. I just ate oatmeal for the second day in a row.
Practice wasn't too bad. I wasn't late today, so I got to partner with someone that didn't look like the thought of working with me was repulsive.
Really, nothing was bad. It was just weird. Most people didn't talk to me unless they had to; they avoided eye contact. One kid pointedly looked to his side and accidentally walked into the door post because he was trying so hard not to look at me… I hated to be that person, but it was kind of funny.
We went to the gym after dinner. It was so crowded but, despite that, there seemed to be an invisible ring around me that kept people at a distance. I knew right away that I was going to try mornings. Almost everyone was here, so I hoped no one was willing to wake up as early as we'd need to. I gave it a couple of minutes, but I couldn't stick it out.
"Want to try tomorrow morning?" I asked Jared as we were leaving.
"We'd have to go at 5," he complained.
"I think you'll live."
"We'll see," he grumbled.
"We'll see" was apparently code for him complaining about how early it was when my alarm went off and deciding that morning gym time was not something he wanted for himself before I even got out of bed.
"How are you awake right now?" He groaned.
"At Creekwood, we practiced before school so this isn't much earlier." It helped that I'd fallen asleep at like 8 last night and I felt more rested than I had… pretty much since before Benji left. I'd been staying up late to make sure I got to talk to him every day because his schedule was hectic during the day, but they had planned for their first day in New York to be a chance to explore, so I got to talk to him right after dinner. I actually fell asleep talking to him and couldn't help the smile that spread across my face when I thought about the text I'd woken up to. Roses are red. Violets are blue. Your snores are cute but not as cute as you. Sleep tight. Then he'd sent me the kissy emoji and the z's emoji. It was corny and once upon a time, we would've laughed at people that did the same thing, but it didn't seem that cringy to me anymore. God, I missed him.
"That sounds like cruel and unusual punishment," Jared grumbled. He rolled over in bed. "Have fun not sleeping the next hour."
I snorted. "I'll see you at breakfast."
When I got to the gym, there were four other people there. I only recognized Chris - the two girls and guy must've been students or were here with a different program.
I put in my earbuds and lost myself in my workout. When I finished a short run on the treadmill, I looked at the free weights longingly. Most of what I liked to do needed a spotter and Jared was apparently opposed to mornings, so I guess I needed to get used to sucking up machine weights. I'd barely sat down before someone tapped on my shoulder.
I pulled out my earbuds and tried not to look shocked when it was Chris. "I can spot you."
It was the first time I'd heard him talk.
"You sure?"
He nodded. "I figured we can spot each other?" He shifted on his feet and it was really obvious how uncomfortable he was.
"Cool."
Chris did this thing where he almost shuddered like he'd seen something very alarming before he walked towards the free weights. I didn't say anything the first couple of times he did it, but when it kept happening, I finally asked, "are you grossed out or something?"
He looked genuinely confused. "Huh?"
"You keep going like this." I mimicked his move. "If it's that hard for you to be around me, I can just do the machine weights." He looked at the ground and a deep red spread across his cheeks. He shook his head and didn't say a word. "Whatever."
I grabbed my water bottle and started to walk away before he whispered, "I have a tic disorder."
I turned back around so I was facing him. "A what?"
"A tic disorder. That thing you saw? It's my tic. It happens when I'm anxious."
"So I make you anxious?" I asked uncertainly.
"Everything makes me anxious. Being around people I don't know. Talking. Being away from home. Changing in the locker room. Spotting."
On the first day, I'd assumed Chris was just an asshole, but I thought back to the limited interaction I'd had with him. I hadn't even tried to figure out if he was like that with everyone because I'd just assumed it had to do with me. "Oh. If all that stuff makes you anxious, then why are you here?" I heard my words after I said them. "I didn't mean it like that. It just seems like it must be hard for you to be here."
"Harder than it is for you to be here?" he challenged.
I reluctantly acknowledged he had a point. "I guess we're tied."
"I love basketball. It's the only time that everything quiets down for me," he told me. He was still looking at the ground.
"That's why I'm here too. Basketball is one of the few things in my life that has always made sense." He nodded, and I felt like something shifted in me.
Chris shuddered again. "Please don't tell anyone. I don't think anyone's noticed yet and I've try not to draw attention to it."
"Why did you tell me?"
He sighed. "I didn't want you to think it was about you. My sister's a lesbian; she told me before she even knew for sure and it was a long time before she told anyone else. For six years, I've been listening to her talk about how how hard it is to figure out if someone just doesn't know what to say or if they're silently being homophobic. When you started to walk away, all I could hear was her calling those people cowards." He shuddered again.
"Is there anything I can do to make you less anxious?"
He looked surprised by the question. "No. It's on me."
"It doesn't have to be." I sat down on the bench. "If you think of anything, you just let me know because I plan on being here every morning, and I don't want to make this harder on you."
He smiled. "It helps that you know," he admitted. "I'm always really scared that someone will notice. It took me months to tell my girlfriend about it. Everyone at school just thinks I'm weird but basketball kind of evens it out."
"Well, thank you for telling me."
I think I depleted his conversational reservoir because when we got back to the weights, we made small talk for a minute before we focused on our workout.
Chris sat with us at breakfast. If anyone thought it was weird, they didn't say anything. After that, everything fell into place. I had my crew and, as the second week of the program came to a close, a brand new excitement filled me. Benji was coming home soon. He could come see me. In just two days, I could have him in my arms again for the first time in six weeks.
When my phone rang at 2 am, I didn't hesitate to answer it even though Saturdays were a full day of scrimmaging and I needed to be well-rested. "I have to tell you something," Benji said quietly before I even had the chance to say hello. He kind of looked like he was under his covers. Stevie must be sleeping.
"What's wrong?" My mind instantly jumped to another car accident. Had he waited to tell me because he felt like I freaked out too much last time?
"Our tour was extended… sort of."
"I… what?" I asked incredulously. They were supposed to be leaving to come home tomorrow. I closed my eyes for a second. "How long?"
"Two weeks."
Two weeks. Okay, I could handle that. It wasn't the whole summer. "That's great."
"Then why do you look like I just confessed to murder?"
"I don't. If you just confessed to murder, I'd be making sure you hid that body well. I can barely handle this long distance. I would not be able to deal with you in prison."
"I don't know whether to be flattered or alarmed that you wouldn't turn me in if I killed someone."
"I'm sure you would've had your reasons."
Benji let out a laugh then brought his hand to his mouth to stifle the sound.
"Can you two be a little less in love at 2 am? Please and thank you," Jared grumbled.
"Sorry. I'll go out to the lounge."
I hopped off my bed and left. At the end of the hallway, there was a huge space with a bunch of couches and tables. I figured it was probably supposed to be a quiet study space, but none of us used it for that. Chris was there as well, so I put in my earbuds. I tried to keep a smile on my face while Benji filled me in on how they'd had bigger crowds than they were expecting in New York, so they'd been offered more days at the venue they were playing at. THEY had been offered additional opening spots. Not The Minor Keys. I thought that was going to be weird for them but, as Benji pointed out, their tour had already ended.
So, I was going to have to wait two more weeks. Two long weeks. When he said good night to me and I hung up, I didn't go back to my room.
"He's not coming back, huh?"
"Two more weeks. Sorry. I thought you were on the phone."
"I was. Jackie called." He waved his phone.
"How's she doing?" I asked cautiously. Chris wasn't one for many words, but they'd been having problems lately. Especially since last Sunday. We had every Sunday off. It was technically so they weren't infringing on our religious freedoms, but I didn't know anyone that used that time to go to church. We had one kid that was always excused Saturday mornings because he was attending a synagogue service and Saturdays were kind of a big deal for Jewish people. Other than him, I didn't think anyone was particularly religious. Well, I felt like Chris might be secretly religious, but he was excited that this was the first time since he was born that he'd gotten a break from church, so he was taking it. Jackie refused to come last Sunday. It had caused one of their biggest fights. She said she didn't think she'd be able to say goodbye again, but Chris thought it should be harder to go without seeing him at all.
"Not great," he admitted. "She keeps saying that if this is how hard two weeks is, how are we supposed to do long-distance next year?"
I nodded. I knew what they were arguing about. It had made me a little nauseated when Chris told me they were treating this like a "test run" - they needed to figure out if it would be harder to be apart than it would be to break up.
I didn't like to think about it. Mostly because it was so hard to have been away from Benji for six weeks. I couldn't fathom months apart. I'd had a long talk with Benji that night. I think I needed to hear him say that breaking up would be so much harder than doing long distance (he'd agreed before I could even ask the question).
"I'm sorry."
He shrugged. "Cora keeps saying that I'm being too clingy and that it's only pushing her away." Cora was his twin sister and best friend. She'd come to visit him last weekend and she hadn't been what I expected. She essentially acted like his protector. She spent the first hour she was here fussing over him and making sure we were being nice to him. I knew Chris said that basketball was the reason no one made fun of him for his tic, but I'd put money on Cora being behind that. She could be pretty scary. She actually reminded me a lot of Pilar.
"If it helps, I don't think you're being too clingy," I told him. "Yeah, long-distance is hard but, if you're with the right person, you make it work."
His thumb drew circles in his knee. "I'm starting to wonder," he admitted. He shuddered. Then again. Then a third time. Right in succession.
I stood up and moved so I was closer to him. In the past two weeks, I'd gotten to know Chris pretty well. I knew that when his tics happened a lot and got closer together, he was on the verge of an anxiety attack. He'd told me he had anxiety, but it didn't prepare me when Chris started to hyperventilate one day. It was honestly kind of scary. He'd just dropped and was clutching his chest. It looked like every breath took effort. Fortunately, I wasn't the only one with him because I was apparently the worst in a crisis.
Ian had shown a surprising aptitude for helping Chris through anxiety attacks, but I was mediocre at best. The one thing I'd noticed consistently helped was when Chris got to focus on someone else's problems - Ian was always homesick, Luke had a crazy tragic and traumatic childhood, Jared could relate to the "struggle of being a multiple" - so I forced myself to talk.
"Benji and his band are staying in New York for two more weeks. They're going to be opening three nights a week at some arena they've been playing at."
Chris shuddered again. And again. "That sucks," he said.
"I feel like I should be happy for him," I whispered. "This is so huge for him."
Chris took a deep breath and shuddered again. "You can be happy for him and think that it sucks at the same time," he pointed out.
"Maybe. I just… I thought I was going to get to stop missing him."
Chris took another deep breath. "He was supposed to come home tomorrow?" he confirmed.
"Yeah."
Another shudder but I thought it was further apart than the last one had been. He frowned. "I'm sorry you have to miss him for two more weeks."
"Me too."
The next two weeks seemed to drag by and fly by simultaneously but when the day finally arrived, I hadn't heard from Benji.
I let my oatmeal fall off of my spoon and plop down into my bowl. I let out an exasperated sigh.
"I know. Oatmeal again," Jared agreed. He sat down across from me. "Do you remember our first meal? Our parents were still here so they were pretending they cared about us."
"Those were the times." I grinned at him. He'd still been asleep when I left this morning.
"Where's Chris?"
"He left his phone in his room, so he ran back to get it. I don't suppose you have any of the good stuff."
"You know, I usually charge for that but, for you, I think I can make an exception." He slipped me a Pop-Tart. He and Luke had made a highly illicit run to Walmart a couple weeks ago when they realized that our meals were going to have absolutely no variety and Jared could usually be counted on to bypass oatmeal for Poptarts every morning..
"Have I mentioned I love you?" I asked.
He snorted. "Sure. How was the gym this morning?"
"Empty." It was how I preferred it. I took a bite of the Pop-Tart. "Mmm."
"Salazar," Ian sang as he sat down. "Nichols."
"Hey, Ian," we said at the same time.
"Okay, so I say that tomorrow, we try to get into the VIP caf instead of doing our team practice." The VIP cafeteria was what we called the cafeteria where all the UGA students that were here over the summer ate at. It opened after we started our day, but we could look on with envy as they enjoyed their lunches and dinners. In truth, the food they gave us here wasn't bad. It was just… repetitive. We had the option of oatmeal, cereal, or bagels every morning then we could have a sandwich or a hot option (usually chicken) for lunch. For dinner, there was always a meat option, a gluten-free option, and a vegan option so that offered the most variety. "Hear me out. The team that thieves together wins together. We can have a real lunch!"
"A real lunch sounds dope," Chris said as he took his seat.
I split my Pop-Tart in half and passed him the part I hadn't bitten into. "Does it still sound good if it means having to sneak into the VIP caf?"
"I don't know how to tell you this, but me and sneaking don't work. And I don't need anything edible. Today's our day off, remember? Cora's driving over to see me. She should be here soon."
"Are we gonna pretend that we're more excited about Cora than Jackie?" Ian asked as Luke sat down.
"Cora's bringing muffins and cookies and stuff," Chris explained. There was an unspoken fear that Jackie might not come at all. I'd been shocked when I learned that Chris lived super close to Athens. He lived in South Carolina, but it took him the same amount of time to get here that it took Jared and me. "I think she said she made you more sugar cookies."
I didn't realize his last words were for me because I'd suddenly gotten so stuck in my head thinking about how dumb today was going to be. I'd been looking forward to it for weeks, but it looked like I'd be spending another Sunday alone in my room. Maybe today my phone's service would work and Benji wouldn't freeze while he was taking off his pants - there was nothing more unreliable than our phones during our attempts at FaceTime sex. That was assuming he returned my call or answered my text or acknowledged my existence today. I hadn't talked to him since Friday. "Oh. Cool."
"Why do you look like someone just died?" Luke asked. I glared at him. "Shit. Is that why you you're in a bad mood? I'm sorry, man." He looked genuinely apologetic which only irritated me more.
"No! I do not look weird," I said defensively.
"You kind of do," Jared pointed out.
"You know we're gonna get it out of you; you might as well tell us," Ian suggested. "We can be very… persuasive." He winked and I found myself smiling despite how annoying my friends could be.
"It's just… Benji was supposed to get home last night, but he never called me to tell me he made it. I thought I was going to see him today, but I guess I'm not." I shrugged and tried to look like it didn't matter to me. Ian and Jared exchanged looks. "What?"
"Nothing," Ian said defensively. "Just us sharing noticeably suspicious looks over someone that has been a pain in the ass with his moping. How long has it been? Ten years?"
"Eight weeks," I said glumly even though they already knew that. It had actually been eight weeks and five days. If I looked at my watch, I'd probably be able to pin it down to the hour, but I didn't want them to think I was obsessed… they already thought that and I thought I'd done a pretty good job hiding the full extent of how much I missed him.
"Yeah. That's a long time," Ian agreed. "This boyfriend of yours. Is he cute?"
"You've seen him on FaceTime," I pointed out. Ian asked weird question, but it was usually to get to a point, so I hoped he'd get there soon.
"Yeah, but I'm trying to get a visual right now. Would you say he's… what? Almost as short as me? Brown wavy hair that looks like it was stolen from a hair product commercial? Probably needs to shave?"
I chuckled. Benji had a hilarious patchwork beard. Parts of his face just didn't grow hair, and I kind of loved it. It hadn't been noticeable at first but after eight weeks of not shaving, it kind of stood out. His dad had tried to send him a razor, but there had been a delay at some point during delivery and then they'd moved on before it got there; I still thought he should've just walked somewhere and bought a cheap razor, but it wasn't a battle I was willing to pick.
"And maybe he's in a Creekwood basketball t-shirt," Ian added.
"Okay. That's a weird visual," I said slowly. "You're not trying to like start a fantasy, are you? Because it was really weird last time and you said you weren't going to do it again."
Ian snorted. "No. I'm just trying to get a picture of him. Honest. Does he own a blue backpack?"
"What are you talking about?" I asked. "Are you picturing him at school?"
Suddenly everyone I sat with had huge smiles on their faces. "You could technically say we're picturing him at a school," Jared said.
That made Ian snicker.
"I don't understand."
"Wow, Romeo. Aren't you supposed to know when your other half walks into a room?" Ian teased.
It took exactly one second for his words to hit my brain and, in that time, my body had already climbed to my feet and dropped my Pop-Tart. I nearly tripped as I got to the other side of my seat. I looked around, desperately hoping that this wasn't a cruel prank that my friends thought was hilarious.
Then I saw him. He was standing at the entrance to the cafeteria and when I looked towards him, our eyes locked. In the back of my head, I registered that he was actually wearing my basketball t-shirt. He'd stolen it from me while we were in Vegas, and I'd never gotten it back from him… I never tried to get it back from him. There was something about him wearing it that always made my brain go a little foggy. "Oh my God," I whispered. Then I was running. I had to jump over someone's bag to get to him, but I barely noticed. I threw my arms around him the second he was close enough. I didn't know whether I wanted to hug him forever or kiss him senselessly. I pulled back from the hug just enough to kiss him. My hands instinctively went to his cheeks as I depended on the stability from his arms to keep me together.
It was like the world started moving in slow motion. I could practically feel the eyes on us, but I honestly couldn't give a damn about all the kids watching us. Benji was here. Finally! We went mentally to a place where it was just the two of us.
Our stay in that place was short lived because it wasn't just the two of us and we were in a crowded cafeteria. Benji broke the kiss so he could look at me. His hand brushed my cheek and, if it had been anyone else, the probing look he gave me would have felt invasive. I couldn't pay too much attention to that because I was too busy doing the same thing. I felt like my eyes devoured every inch of him. The beard that FaceTime couldn't do justice to, the smile that was never quite big enough while he was gone, the bags under his eyes that somehow made him even more attractive because at least I was seeing them in person. "I've missed you so much," he said. He was a little breathless.
I stole a quick kiss. "Not as much as I've missed you." I pulled him close to me and let one of my hands wander through his hair as my eyes drifted closed in his embrace. I'd been saying for a long time that it was the small things I loved the most about Benji, and this is what I meant. I could've spent a lifetime like this, with his impossibly soft hair tangled in my fingers and his warm arms wrapped around me like a blanket. This was my safe space… he was my safe space.
"Tell me about your last week in New York," I whispered.
He shook his head and I could feel his hair brush against my cheek. "No." He kissed me again and, yeah, I kind of preferred that.
I rested my forehead against his when we broke the kiss. "I can't believe you're here. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted to surprise you. I didn't get in until almost 3 am and then I wasn't 100% sure I was going to be able to drive myself here."
"You drove here?" I asked. I'd kind of assumed he was just never going to drive again. He'd gotten his license back in April but hadn't gotten any more comfortable with the idea of driving before he left. Athens was only an hour-and-a-half from where he lived, but it seemed so much bigger than the parking lots I'd suggested he practice in.
He grinned. "The things I do for you." I kissed him again quickly. "I was supposed to be here early enough to catch you at the gym and take you out for breakfast, but it took a little pep talk for me to get going." He didn't say it, but I had a feeling that pep talk included fending off a substantial amount of panic.
"How'd it go?"
"It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but I was highly motivated to get here. Do you think you might introduce me to your friends?"
"Oops. Yeah. Come on." I took his hand but that wasn't enough, so I rested my arm on his shoulder. He brought his hand up to hold mine while I led him to my table.
It was a small miracle that we didn't walk into anything because I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Part of me thought he might disappear if I did. When we got to the table, Chris and Jared were literally beaming. "Guys, this is Benji. Benji this is Chris, Jared, Luke, and Ian."
"It's nice to meet you. Victor talks about you all the time," Jared said as he offered Benji his hand.
"That's an understatement. He never shuts up. If I have to hear about his rockstar boyfriend one more time," Luke complained. He was smiling despite his words.
"I don't talk about you that much."
"It's okay. My bandmates are kind of sick of you too," Benji whispered. Chris offered him his hand. "Chris, right? Thanks for helping with this," Benji said.
"Wait. What?" I asked. "Helping with what?"
"Jared's gonna spend the night on my floor," Chris said with a shrug.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I haven't seen you in almost eight weeks. We are going out on a proper date, and Jared said he was cool with me spending the night. I'll go back to Atlanta in the morning. I thought we could sneak in breakfast together," Benji said. "Unless you're not cool with that."
"I was gonna tell Coach Fitzgerald you were up all night puking your guts out," Jared told me. "So you can take your time."
"I mean, that sounds gross. I don't want to say no, but this program…"
"Will still be here tomorrow afternoon," Jared interrupted. "You're still ranked number 2 here; no one's gonna take that from you if you miss our morning practice. Plus, apparently, all you're gonna miss is Ian getting arrested."
I'd completely forgotten about Ian's earlier plan to sneak into the VIP cafeteria until he insisted, "I'm not gonna get caught. I'll be the one laughing when I'm dining in luxury and your stuck with this stuff." He pointed at my oatmeal.
Jared rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna be in the library all day. I already grabbed my stuff." He pointed to the duffel bag that I'd somehow missed.
I was embarrassed to say that I didn't understand what he was saying. "Why? You can't possibly have homework." We did presentations this past week, and we hadn't started a new unit, so there wasn't anything for him to do.
Jared looked down at the table when Benji elbowed me. "Vic, do you want to show me around? It was nice meeting all of you."
I left the cafeteria with Benji. "What do you want to see first?"
Benji stared at me. "I thought you were just pretending you didn't understand him. I want to see the inside of your dorm room," he told me.
"Sure. We can start there," I agreed.
"And maybe we can stay there," he suggested. I must've still looked clueless because he let out a groan. "God, I've missed you." He had the faintest smile on his face. "Your roommate is spending the day in the library so we can have some alone time. I don't want a tour. Unless it's a tour of you."
I stopped walking and immediately felt like the world's biggest idiot. In defense of me, I think part of my brain was still in a haze that Benji was back and hadn't been able to progress past that yet. "Let's take a shortcut." I led Benji through some large hedges that led to the back courtyard of the dorm I was in. Technically, we weren't supposed to cut through there, but this seemed like a good reason to break that rule. I was suddenly so grateful I'd already showered and was ready in case Benji called because I didn't want to wait a single second to be alone with him.
I lived on the fourth floor and, in the interest of not tiring Benji out with the stairs, we took the elevator.
"Let me make sure I have this right," I said as I guided him to my room. "You're here all day and tomorrow morning."
"Yep," Benji confirmed.
"Good." I keyed into my bedroom and pulled Benji in after me. I exerted every atom of patience that I had not to rush him as he looked around. He smiled when he saw all the pictures I had taped to my wall.
"Jared doesn't have any pictures of his boyfriend," he said surprised. I hadn't meant to tell Benji, but it had slipped out. Jared hadn't been upset when I let him know; he said he'd figured I would've told Benji.
"He's not out to anyone here, and I told you they broke up," I reminded him gently. It had taken Jared a few weeks to tell me, but his boyfriend had waited until he'd left for this program to text him and tell him it wasn't working out. When he'd told me about his boyfriend that night, he was still hopeful they might get back together, so he hadn't talked about it. I still thought his ex-boyfriend was a jerk.
"Right, right, right. That's why you're playing matchmaker."
"That's why I will be playing matchmaker," I corrected. I wanted to try to set Jared up with Rahim. Jared and Rahim were both great guys that had gotten really unlucky with their last boyfriends, and I thought they'd work together. The things about Rahim that I thought were a little eccentric, Jared would find endearing."Are you done looking around?"
He didn't answer me; he just started to kiss me. It was kind of the best answer he could've given me.
Some part of me knew that eight weeks wasn't an impossibly long time, but it kind of felt like that. I honestly gave Benji so much credit because if he was ever as jealous of Rahim as I'd been of Derek, he must've been in a perpetual state of exhaustion. I was glad they worked out their stuff and that they'd gotten somewhere close to being friends, but it also sucked to have them be friends all over the east coast without me.
All of that seemed to melt away as he kissed me. And as our clothes came off, there wasn't room for anything but the two of us.
Afterward, we lay tangled together on my tiny twin bed. We barely fit, but he didn't complain about the lack of space, and I didn't mind. I traced the contours of his chest. He brought his hand to my hair and I met his eyes. For a moment, we laid like that. "I told my bandmates I'm done."
I sat up. "What?"
"I quit."
I couldn't have been more surprised. "You love playing with them."
"Yeah, I do," he agreed. He slowly sat up. "But I didn't love being on tour. It was amazing playing with them in so many different places, but…" He sighed. "I don't know how to explain this. It was all the other stuff. I'll always love playing guitar, but I couldn't deal with what happened when we finished playing."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"It stopped being fun at some point," he admitted. "If I'm being honest, it was fun for me. I was always stressed and anxious. Everything was about the sales we were making or how we felt an audience reacted to our music or was there a better way to line up our songs? There was so much pressure to produce new stuff and… I hated it, Victor. Like, really hated it. I stuck it out because I had to, but it's the first time that playing music felt like work to me. It's not work I want to do. What I love about music is when I play for me; that's all I want it to be."
"You never said anything."
"Because I didn't want to complain when I knew what you did so I could go," he told me. He was looking up at my ceiling. "You convinced my parents to trust me and sacrificed your summer so that I could play my music. You told me that I owed it to myself to find out what I wanted, and I figured it out. I don't want to give up music, but I don't want this." He ducked his head. "We weren't done; I left. They're going to try out Tosh or Derek as the lead singer. They made enough to stay in New York through the summer, but I couldn't do it. When they told me, I let them know I could give them two more weeks but that I needed to go home. I haven't been happy there for a long time; maybe I was never happy there, and… everything's been tough."
"Everything's been tough." I closed my eyes for a second. "Benji, can you just tell me or do I have to ask?"
"I haven't had a drink but that's part of the reason I left." He flopped back against my bed and squeezed his eyes shut. "My bandmates were constantly drinking or smoking and… it was really hard to stay away from it. I haven't wanted to drink this badly in a long time, and it was so stressful to constantly be surrounded by it, especially when Derek was the only person that knew why I wasn't drinking. I tried to fake it at first like I usually do, but it got to be too much that I just started avoiding my bandmates. They thought I was avoiding Derek and neither of us corrected them. It's why I called you so late all the time. I just wanted to feel… like me and I didn't when I was there."
I'd kind of had a feeling, but I'd hoped I was wrong. "I wish I'd known," I told him quietly. "I've been complaining about this program and all that time, you were struggling."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted to, and I almost did so many times, but… I didn't want to disappoint you."
"You could never disappoint me. I am so proud of you for trying and for not drinking. Now you know." I kissed him because I didn't want him to see how relieved I felt. I would've felt more guilty about it, but I hated him being away. If this had been something he wanted to do, I would've found a way to be okay with it, but I couldn't express how much I loved that he was going to be home for good. "How'd they take it?"
"I told Derek first. I think he knew it was coming; they all must've. Once I told him about the drinking stuff, he bought my ticket back here."
"He's a good guy." I almost wished he was more of an asshole because then these feelings would be justified.
"Yeah. So, now you know and it's your turn. Your friends seem nice. Are you loving this program? Do you still love basketball?" I hesitated, and he smiled. "Of course you do." As much as I complained about some of the kids here, I did love it. We'd met so many people from the NBA, and I'd even gotten to see Jason again which was amazing. We'd spent nearly twenty minutes catching up while my friends stared at me like they couldn't believe I'd played with him before, and I felt like I'd gotten so much better in the last four weeks. It was hard to imagine that in less than two weeks, we'd be done.
"Uh, one of the assistant coaches from UCLA talked to me on Friday. He'll be back at our big tournament in two weeks, but he seemed to like me. I think he might offer me some kind of scholarship."
He hit my shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because someone's been ignoring me since Friday," I said dryly.
"Right," he said guiltily. "Sorry. You know how long the bus ride is. I didn't want to explain over the phone that I was ditching my band."
"It's okay."
He got a weird look on his face. "Have you given much thought to college?"
"I'm here, aren't I?"
"No, I mean… with me."
I closed my eyes. I didn't know if my brain had just reached its capacity for the day, but I had no idea what he was saying. "I don't understand."
He sighed. "I guess I'm just wondering… you know that I can literally go to school anywhere in the country. It doesn't matter to me, but… I'd kinda like to go wherever you go. Or at least close to it. I don't know that I'd get into UCLA, but there are a lot of schools in that same area."
I stared at him. "You said you wanted to go to school in New York," I said slowly. "Because you wanted to get your degree in whatever state you'll eventually live in."
He shrugged. "Yeah because I know that not all teaching certs transfer to different states, but I don't care. Besides, we can't possibly plan for that. Maybe we'll live in Los Angeles or somewhere else in California or maybe we'll move to New York or maybe your job will take us to the middle of nowhere. Wherever you get a job, I'll follow, so why shouldn't I follow you here?"
I bit my lip. "I want that so badly, but I don't want you to give up going to school in New York just because that's not what I want."
"That's not why I'm giving it up," he promised me. "I'm not giving up school. It's more about refusing to give up you."
"You wouldn't be giving me up if we went to different colleges." I hovered over him so I could look him right in the eye. "If you visit UCLA or some other school in California and fall in love, then I think that's great. But your decision shouldn't be to choose me. I want you to choose a place you fall in love with."
"If you're there, I'm already in love," he said stubbornly.
I saw a glint in his eye, and I knew there was no point in arguing with him. I knew that when he started applying to colleges and going on tours in the fall, I was going to have to force him to branch out and look at some colleges, and I'd have to be extra vigilant to pick up on whether he liked them. I really, really hoped he would fall in love with UCLA (because I was sure his art was good enough to get him in) but if he didn't, I couldn't let him go to a school he hated just because of me. "We can talk about this later," I told him. "I don't even know if I'll end up at UCLA. There are a lot of colleges that come here. Who knows if one of them will even want me? Let's talk about this when you start submitting your applications."
"Okay, but I'm not going to change my mind."
"Will you shut up," I suggested.
"Make me." I kissed him slowly.
It was the perfect day. We probably should've left my room at some point, but we spent the entire day cuddled in my bed except for when I needed to run downstairs to pick up our dinner. We'd go out tomorrow morning.
I didn't remember falling asleep, but I woke up the same way I always did with Benji. I was facing him and we were clutching our hands together in between us. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed this. It was the little things I'd missed the most. Sex was… great, but there was something special about waking up to see him and falling asleep while we were sleepily talking to one another.
Benji must've sensed that I was awake because a minute later, he opened his eyes. "Morning."
"Morning."
He brought my hand to his lips. "You're still okay with this?" he confirmed. "Ditching morning practice."
"It's a little late if I'm not," I pointed out. I hadn't set my alarm this morning, but I knew it had to be pretty late. I was normally up at 5 to get to the gym, and I'd gotten used to walking through campus in the dark. This was the first time I'd woken up to the sun shining through my window since I started camp.
"I'm honored that you're choosing me over basketball," he teased.
"Always," I said seriously. I leaned over and kissed him lightly. Reluctantly, I got out of bed. Benji climbed off after me.
"Do you need to shower?"
I almost wanted to say yes because I was sure he would join me and I'd never had sex in a dorm shower… I also wasn't sure I wanted to and the last time we'd had sex in a shower, it hadn't ended well, so I bit back my yes. "Not until after practice. I just gotta pee real quick."
I grabbed my toothbrush; might as well kill two birds with one stone. I brushed my teeth like a madman so I could get back to him.
When I walked back in, he was holding something in his hand. "What's this?" he asked.
"I don't know because I can't see through you," I told him. He turned to face me and I realized he was upset. "What's wrong?"
He held up the flier and I froze. I hadn't intended for him to find that. Not for a long time. I wanted to get defensive because I knew it had been hidden under the clutter on my desk, so he really had to dig for it, but I swallowed my protest. He'd had no way of knowing what he would find. He'd probably just been looking at my school stuff. "It was part of our info session our first day here," I said slowly. "And I, uh, kind of looked into it a little bit more."
"Why?" he asked slowly.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I was pretty sure I'd royally messed up. I'd felt like I was overstepping when I'd done it and obviously hadn't done a very great job hiding the evidence. "Can you sit down? I can't explain this if I feel like you're gonna walk out the door because you're pissed." It was true. I was so focused on that, I was having trouble remembering why I went to the Health Center in the first place.
He looked at me like I was crazy. "I haven't seen you in eight weeks. I'm not going anywhere."
I sighed. "You say that now, but the last time we fought about this, we didn't talk for two days," I pointed out.
He sat down on my bed and looked at me expectantly. "Better?"
I nodded. It really was. It was dumb because he could still leave so easily, but it made me feel a little better that he was sitting down. I stood in front of him and held his hands. That made this easier too.
"You're always saying that you feel weird in AA because there's almost a ten year age gap between you and the other youngest people there. When they told us about all the services they offered here, they specifically mentioned these groups that were for people between 16 and 25. It's not just for UGA students; it's open to everyone. I thought… maybe they'd understand you a little more. Maybe with them, you won't have to be ashamed. They know what it's like to have to be sober at your age, you know." I ducked my head. "I went to the Health Center my first day off to get some information. I told them my friend was an incoming freshman and was worried about being so far away from the meetings. I'm pretty sure they thought I was talking about me and was just too afraid to admit it." I would've laughed, but I was still too scared. "I just want this to get better for you, and…" I sighed. "I love that you talk to me. More than I can describe, I love that you trust me enough to let me into this part of your life because I know how hard that was for you. I just… I don't think I'm enough to help you work through this because I can listen, but I can't relate."
I wasn't looking at him, so I was taken aback when he kissed me. First my forehead and then my lips when I looked up. When he pulled back, I stared at him. I'd been so prepared for his anger, I'd essentially decided not to tell him at all which was what made this whole thing so confusing. "You're not mad?" I didn't mean for it to sound like a question but it did anyway.
"I'm not mad," he confirmed.
"But… why? Not that I'm not happy, but you're not usually so…" I trailed off as I tried to find the word.
"Calm?" he guessed. I nodded. It wasn't exactly what I was looking for but it was close enough. He leaned his forehead against mine. "I had a lot of time to think about all of this. I'm tired, Victor. I'm tired of not trusting that I won't slip up and not trusting that other people can handle this. These last eight weeks were so exhausting. I don't trust myself anymore, but I trust you so, if you think this will help, I'll give it a shot."
I stared at him with my mouth slightly agape. "Really?" Some part of me knew I should've been jumping for joy, but I felt like I was incapable of processing that he'd agreed that easily when I'd been so convinced that this would launch a massive fight.
"Really. What did you want to do for breakfast?" He pulled on his shirt.
"Um… I don't know. What are you in the mood for?"
"Nope. I'm taking you out. This is your meal. You pick."
We ended up at a diner that my friends and I had gone to once because it was within walking distance, and we were all collectively sick of the options we had here.
It was so hard to say goodbye to Benji. I knew I'd see him in a week, and then again just a few days after that, and then we'd be back to normal, but I think part of my brain expected weeks to go by again.
When he left, I gave myself a minute to pull myself back together before I went to the gym. It was time for lunch, but I'd had a late breakfast, and I felt like I needed to work off some of the agitated energy Benji's departure filled me with.
It felt good to just shoot some baskets. There was no pressure here. I didn't need to live up to the ranking I was given; I didn't need to think about scholarships or scouts or the tournament that could decide my whole future. It was me and the net; everything else was noise that disappeared a little more with every basket.
"I see you're feeling better."
The ball fell from my hands and I turned to see Fitz. "Uh… yeah. Much better."
"Must've been some food poisoning. I would've thought you'd be out all day." She raised her eyebrow at me, and I knew that she knew. I had no idea how she found out, but she knew.
I ducked my head and waited. I didn't know what they did if someone skipped part of the program. To my knowledge, no one ever had. Why would we? It was such an honor to be here.
I heard her footsteps get a little closer. "Can I give you some advice?" I looked up at her and nodded. "It's a big deal that you're here. We got over a thousand nominations for this program."
"And it needs to be my priority," I guessed.
She shook her head. "Well, yes. It does, but… off the record, basketball can't be the most important thing in your life. If it is, then you're missing out. It's a good thing to have a balance."
"Okay," I said uncertainly. It didn't sound like I was in trouble.
"That being said. Hypothetically, if someone's partner was going to have an unauthorized sleepover and keep them from an entire morning of the program, that someone probably shouldn't have been making out with his partner in the back of his car when a coach went to make sure they were okay."
Oh my God. Why? Literally why? "I swear. It won't happen again," I told her.
"I don't know what you're talking about. That was a hypothetical scenario. If that had actually happened, someone could face having his team disqualified from the tournament." My heart sank. I hadn't realized it would be that big of a deal if we got caught. "We take these rules very seriously. They are in place not only for you but for your peers in this program. For security reasons, we need to know when someone is here and we need to know where all of our players are. We're responsible for all of you."
"I understand."
"Good. Because I think you've got what it takes and I wouldn't want anything to get in the way of that. Also, you're late for class."
"What? Oh. Right. On it." I put the basketball away before I ran from the gym. My mind was spinning when I walked into class late. We were in note-taking mode today which meant I had to fill in Jared by passing him notes back and forth. It probably could have waited, but I felt like he deserved to know. He wasn't all that upset about what almost happened. His exact words were that I got away with it and it wasn't like Benji was going to make a habit of elicit sleepovers. This was a special case.
Ian's reaction had been priceless. You mean you almost risked my ranking?! I'm gunning for 25! Ian had moved up one because we had a winning record and he kept saying his new goal was to make it to 25. "Top 83% sounds good if you don't think about it" might as well be his motto. Our teams were pretty evenly matched so, for the most part, our rankings remained the same, but some people who were really close kept going back and forth.
When Benji came the next weekend, he promptly left by curfew on Sunday. I was not taking any chances.
It helped that he promised he'd be here all day on Friday. I was pretty sure an entire day of watching high schoolers play basketball in a tournament-style competition was his nightmare, but he was sucking it up for me. That's what kept me going through four long, grueling days. We didn't slow down because the program was ending; if anything, we were pushed harder than we were before.
I was ready for Benji to be in the stands when I got to the Coliseum arena on Friday. Jared and I had headed over early because we wanted to take it all in. We hadn't been in here yet. We'd practiced and scrimmaged in the training gym, but today we were upgrading because the tournament was such a big deal. The first two rounds were going to be twenty minutes flat, but the last two rounds were going to be full college-level basketball games. Two twenty-minute periods - not short one-period scrimmages like we had been doing all summer. Between everyone in the program, there were 15 teams - kind of mind-blowing when you think about it. It meant that if we went all the way, we'd play four games today - two of them full games. Fortunately, there would be a lot of downtime between games. We could watch other games, practice in the training room, or do our own thing. I fully intended to spend some of that time with Benji.
That was the plan, so I was shocked when I walked into the Coliseum.
