Chapter 3: Living In A Powder Keg and Giving Off Sparks by Victory Thru Tears

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter is pretty much all flashbacks, but it's supposed to provide insight to the relationship of our lovable couple.

Adam's POV

Mendoza is asleep in the bed across the room from mine, snoring lightly. I try to sleep, knowing that I'll be dead in classes tomorrow if I don't. I think about the game, which had gone very well. I am so happy that we beat Varsity. It was wonderful after the game when the Ducks accepted me into their group hug. I had looked around, searching for the one that I wanted to hug the most. When I saw Charlie kiss that girl, I was so confused and hurt. I stopped him afterwards to try to make things right. I feel horrible that I hurt him, but justified because of the way he had doubted me. I know that he had never stopped caring about me; he had made that apparent in the locker room.

My wrist is throbbing as the second period ends. Can't Cole and Riley just give it a rest? I haven't scored yet, and at this rate it doesn't look like I'm much of a threat. I sit down on the bench in front of my locker and pull out my tape. I wrap it around my wrist carefully. Now it was just numb. I see Charlie looking down at me, and I quickly try to hide my arm. He shakes his head, and takes a seat next to me.

"Are you okay?" he asks, tenderly taking it in his hand.

"Yeah, I'm just fine," I say, trying to snatch it back without making the pain come back.

"Banks, please don't do this," he begs quietly. "Even if you make it through the game, this will be bothering you for the rest of the season."

I sigh, and hold my arm out for him to check. He moves his fingers delicately around my right wrist, harder in some spots than others. He watches me the whole time, and winces every time I flinch from the pain. It's almost as if we're the same person. I smile at him as this thought enters my mind. I barely even notice the door slam as a tall and muscular person enters.

"Dean Portman is awarded…"

Charlie and I both look up, surprised. Our team swarms around Portman, but he and I stay where we are. He looks at me again, and I know that things are going to be even better than they were before.

Thinking about being with him in the middle of the rink brings a chill to my spine. I try not to be too loud—Luis is easily disturbed. I close my eyes, and try to let sleep take me away. All I can see is Charlie, looking at me with that same expression on his face. He always makes me feel exposed, yet in a way strangely happy. I must be on a reminiscing kick, because my mind travels back to our first kiss.

"Can't sleep?" The voice startles me out of my daze. I don't have to turn around to know that it's Charlie.

"Something like that," I answer, trying to keep my tone even. Is he going to come out here and give me some crap about not being able to play, too? I had gotten enough from Bombay earlier, and the last thing I need is he, of all people, to give it to me now.

"I know you're upset," he tells me, sitting down.

"No, Charlie. You don't know. You have no idea." The bitterness is hard to hide. "You get to play. You're still Captain. You're the one that all of the scouts are going to see."

"Why are you getting mad at me?" he asks, anger apparent in his voice as well. "I'm not the one that busted your wrist."

I nod, trying not to let the first tear roll down my cheek. It doesn't work, and Charlie sees it in the moonlight.

"Banks," he says, putting his arm around me.

"I just want to be something," I sob, throwing myself into his embrace. I can't believe that I let myself go, but now that it has started, it is hard to contain.

"Banks, you are something! You're something so special, that you don't even deserve to think that you aren't anything."

I hear the emotion in Charlie's voice, and I can tell that he is close to crying as well. I look up at him, tears still running down my face. We're barely inches apart, and he's looking into my face with something I've never seen before. I feel bare, like I am on display for the whole world to see. He can't possibly feel the same way that I do…?

Ever since the beginning of that summer, I have known that I am different from them all. I'm still searching for an explanation, but have not come up with one yet. Maybe it's because of my over-bearing father, maybe it's because of my abusive brother, maybe it's because I've always gone to my mother for support… whatever it is, I'm gay. I had made the decision early on that I'm never going to tell anybody unless I'm sure of the consequences.

Looking at Charlie on the steps of our dormitory in the moonlight, I want to tell him so badly. Against my better judgment, I decide to go through with it.

"Charlie, I'm…"

"I know." He cuts me off before I can get to the good part.

"You know?" I ask, confused.

"I know."

"And… you don't mind?" I ask.

He shakes his head, and leans forward. I'm the taller, older, and more developed one, but I let him take the lead. Our kiss is brief, but earth shattering. When it's over, we reluctantly pull away from each other.

"Someone might see," I say gruffly. "And I don't want them to think… you know."

He does know. I see the hurt flash in his eyes, but he quickly hides it. "Yeah. We don't want them to talk, or whatever."

"I'll see you later," I say, getting up. I'm sharing a room with Jesse, and Charlie's with Guy. I had seen Connie and Guy together earlier, also out past curfew. Charlie is obviously not missing him, while Jesse might notice that I'm gone.

"Yeah," Charlie says softly, staying where he is. "I'll see you."

I walk into the dorm, scared of what was going to happen the next day.

I've always been the coward. I am the one who made him hide it, even when we knew they would accept us. I had really been a coward when I was on Varsity. I had even gone as far to break up with him, a mistake I had sorely beaten myself for.

"You wanted to talk to me?" he asks coldly. I try to shrug off the sadness I get from his tone, and concentrate on why I had told him to come in the first place.

"We have to end it," I say.

The look on his face breaks my heart all over again. I know that he isn't expecting this. It's so much easier to be mad at one another, and make up later on. But I know that it won't work this time. I had been thinking about this for weeks, and finally reached a decision.

"W-why?" his voice trembles. I want to reach out and hold him, but I remember that we are in the hallway of my dormitory, and Varsity creeps are crawling around all over the place.

"People will find out. Especially since we're on different teams now. They can't know—they'd kill me," I say firmly.

"But we can make it work, we've made it work before!"

I can see him unfolding, and it is making me feel almost numb.

"Please, Banksie."

I shake my head. He angrily swipes his arm across his face. God, now he's crying. I can't take much more of this.

"Why are you trying to deny who you are?" he asks me furiously.

"Who are you to tell me who I am?" I shoot back. "You told me just this morning that I was a 'Preppy' and to go cry to my rich parents. And then, worst of all—you doubted me. You think that I'd want to be a part of what Varsity has been doing to you? You obviously have no understanding of who I am!"

"I know who you are! You're Adam Banks, star hockey player, and you're gay!"

I whip my head around, making sure that there is nobody close by. I grab him by the shoulders forcefully.

"Will you stop talking so loud?" I whisper harshly.

"Don't deny yourself."

"Just stop. I can't be like that. I can't be gay. It wouldn't work."

"What the hell do you mean, you can't be gay? Fine. Let's look at it like this. You're just straight, Banks. You're a straight man who sleeps with men."

I shove him away from me.

"Go. I can't even stand to be near you anymore. Just go," I say, tears stinging my eyes.

"Done."

He storms off, leaving me with my emotions. I let out a strangled cry of rage, and punch the wall next to me. I feel blood on my knuckles, but am too filled with passion to care. I turn and go back into my dorm room.

That memory doesn't bring back good feelings. I try to forget it, and think about today instead. I soon feel the sleep starting to overtake me, and I drift into unconsciousness, filled with thoughts of Charlie Conway.