Date: Thu, 7 Jul 2011 16:51:33 -0400
From: Odin <belsport09@gmail.com>
Subject: Second Shot_ Chapter One: A Chance Meeting

Disclaimer: Story characters belong to the author, any resemblances to real
people are entirely coincidental.

Content Advisory: Adult situations, language, sexual references

Copyright, 2010, Quonus10

I hope you enjoy it. Please comment to: belsport09@gmail.com


This story will continue to be posted on Nifty. It is COMPLETED, however,
and can be found also at
http://www.gayauthors.org/story/quonus10/secondshot


___________________________________________________________________________

Chapter One--A Chance Meeting


Running full speed, Jason pushed himself as hard as he could. To his right,
a defender strained to keep up with him, trying to put himself between
Jason and the goal. Half a step ahead, Jason took his eye off the ball long
enough to see his teammate and best friend Darryl bolting for the center of
the penalty area.


Reaching the ball before the defender, he pushed it forward hoping to
create space to take a shot. He could hear his coach screaming for him to
shoot. Pulling up suddenly, he stopped the ball, allowing his opponent to
run past. Realizing he had a poor angle from which to shoot he screamed,
"D, coming at you!"


Pivoting, he chipped the ball toward the center of the field. Using every
bit of his 6'3" frame, Darryl leapt above everyone, heading the ball
perfectly into the upper left hand corner of the net.


Darryl ran toward his side line, jumping twice before Jason put him in a
bear hug, hoisting him off the field. Together they ran toward their
sideline, soaking in the roar of the home crowd. A brief celebration with
his teammates, a quick glance into the crowd to find his parents and Jason
ran back to his position, readying himself for the expected pressure from
the other team.


From his left wing position, Jason watched every player on the other team
press forward once the referee blew his whistle to restart play. Even the
goalie was up near mid field.


"Tellerman!" He heard his coach scream his name. "Keep your position!"


Jason waved back, keeping his position despite his instinct to defend his
goal. Up 2-1, he knew their opponent was going to try everything to get the
equalizer. He also knew that one errant pass would allow his team to clear
the ball and he would be in a race with the keeper. If he reached the ball
first, he could put the game out of reach.


Twice he started to chase down a ball that came close, but stopped each
time as he noted the opposing keeper moved closer with him. Reinforcing his
decision to stay close to the opposing half were the shouts from his coach
every time he moved more than a yard or two closer to his own goal.


Time seemed to tick away slowly as he watched his teammates thwart one
attack on goal after another. How much time was left? It had to be close to
the end of the game.


"Three minutes of added time!" The referee shouted.


Three minutes? How the fuck could he add three minutes? There weren't that
many stoppages to warrant adding three minutes. So pissed at the amount of
added time, Jason nearly missed his team clearing the ball his way. This
time the ball was going to carry over the mass of attackers waiting to push
the ball back towards his goal.


Immediately Jason broke for the ball. There was no one else near him but
the opposing goalie. Three strides toward the ball brought a smile to his
face. The keeper hesitated between going for the ball and getting back in
goal. Jason was determined to make him pay for that indecision.


Chasing as fast as his tired legs would move, Jason reached the ball about
30 yards from the opposing goal. The keeper was pushing to get back before
Jason could take a shot. Decision time. His angle was not the best, but
pushing the ball closer only gave the keeper more time to get in
position. Having it blocked would be worse than missing, he reasoned. At
least his teammates could get back in position if it was a goal kick.


Out of position as he was, the goalie nevertheless managed to get back fast
enough to get between Jason and most of the goal. From his position, Jason
only had a clear shot at a quarter of the net. Either that or loft it over
the goalie's head. This far out, the keeper could not use his hands without
getting a red card.


Jason pushed the ball forward enough to improve his shot. Planting his left
foot, he kicked with his right, hoping to get the shot away before the
keeper was in position. Recalling the ball bounced high on the hard field,
Jason opted for past the keeper rather then over.


Still well outside the penalty box, the keeper tried to cut off the shot
with a dive. The ball skidded just off his shin guard, barely altering its
course. If anything, it hooked in Jason's favor after contact.


His attempt to get the ball left the goalie off balanced, resulting in a
slide that took him out of the play. Unsure his shot would make it into the
net, Jason ran after the ball, past the scrambling keeper. When it was
clear his shot was on target with enough leg to make it, he slowed down
just enough for the keeper to run by him.


The ball bounced once, high enough that Jason was glad he opted for past
not over. Too fast for anyone to stop it, the ball hit the back of the net,
drawing a cheer from the home crowd. Jason almost pulled his shirt over his
head before he ran towards his teammates, but stopped so he wouldn't get a
card. Darryl met him near mid field, catching Jason as he leapt into the
air.


This time their opponent did not rush up to the line to get the ball back
in play. Whether it was the uninspired play of the opposing team or the
referee cutting time short because the game was no longer in doubt, the
final whistle blew sooner than Jason expected.


Handshakes over, Jason joined his teammates back on their side of the
field. Coach Slewman gave everyone his customary post game two sentences,
reminding everyone to meet in the locker room before showers for the team
meeting.


Gathering their gear, Jason and Darryl both looked into the stands trying
to find their parents.


"Did you notice Jordan's folks came too?" Darryl asked.


"Yeah I did," Jason answered, peering into the crowd to see his parents
talking to two other couples. Darryl's parents were the lone
African-American couple in the stands. If it bothered them, they did not
give any outward indication as they joked with his parents. "I am surprised
Jordan didn't come to the game to see them."


"I am not," Darryl zipped his bag shut. "You know what he is like. Sitting
in the stands with his parents instead of being on the pitch with us would
only remind Hank Colmar that his only son didn't make the team."


Jason shook his head. "It can't bother the Colmars too much if they came to
the game with our folks."


"Tellerman! Minger!" Jason turned when he heard his coach's voice.


Past fifty and overweight, Coach Slewman had been at Graydon for 20
years. His gravely voice instill fear in more than a few players in that
time.


"Last I checked, that little chip shot and header was not in our play
book." Lifting his hat to rub his nearly bald head, he glared at Jason
first, then Darryl. "The play called for you to shoot," he pointed a thick
finger at Jason. "And for you to not be so close to the net. The other
forwards were there for any rebounds. If Tellerman's shot was blocked, they
could have gone on the attack and we would have been short handed."


"I didn't have a good angle on the goal coach." Jason protested.


"SO?!?" The older man raised his voice. "We practice situations like that
all the time. You shoot anyway. It is the job of the other forwards to get
the rebound.


Jason stole a glance at his friend who looked every bit as sheepish as he
felt.


"Listen boys," their coach continued, softening his tone marginally. "I
know you have played together since you were ten, it is what makes you so
good together. However, this is my team; I decide how we play, not you
two. Next time you decide to use one of your own plays instead of mine, you
will be benched. Am I clear?"


"Yes sir." Jason put his head down. He heard Darryl answer as well.


"Good." Coach Slewman started to turn away. "By the way, that was a hell of
a play. Not saying you were right to go rogue like that but it was a hell
of a chip and header."


Jason grinned at his friend. "Um Coach?"


"What is it Tellerman?"


"Our parents are in the stands," Jason said. "Do you mind if we go say hi
before we join the team?"


He watched the man roll his eyes. "You both know we have a meeting
following every game. There is no, `my parents are here' exception."


"Yes sir." He replied. Darryl shrugged slightly at him.


"But I am a fat old man." Slewman smiled at them. "I don't walk fast
anymore. So long as you are back before I get there, you can say hello."


Jason felt his face split into a smile.


"Just remember," he cautioned. "One lap around the practice field for every
10 seconds you are late."


"Yes, coach." Darryl said.


Grabbing their bags as their coach slowly made his way to the locker room,
the pair ran over to where their parents stood. The early October weather
was slightly chilly, but neither put on their sweat pants.


Jason's parent stood along the edge of the bleachers. Other than missing
some gray hairs, a few wrinkles and 30 years, Jason looked like a younger
version of his father. Dressed in khakis, a button down shirt and blue
Graydon sweat shirt, his dad smiled broadly as he ran up.


Standing next to him was Jason's mother. Never one to dress causal, her
gray pants, white shirt and blue windbreaker seemed more fitting for a
country club than a soccer field. Blonde like her husband and son, she
managed to keep her hair in place despite the semi-windy conditions. She
grabbed her husband's hand as Jason covered the last few feet.


A few feet away, each with matching smiles, Darryl's parents waited for him
to arrive. Both favored jeans and a sweat shirt given to them by their
son. His mother was slightly darker than his father and while Darryl has
his father's color, he favored his mother.


"Hey mom, dad." Jason kissed his mother on the cheek.


"Great game, both of you." His father grabbed Jason by the shoulder. "Hell
of a header Darryl."


"We have about 30 seconds before we have to go." Jason told his parents.


"Yeah," Darryl added. "If we don't make it back before coach, we are going
to be running laps all afternoon."


"Jason, why do you get so dirty when you play?" His mother asked, drawing a
laugh from the others.


Jason and Darryl exchanged eye contact. In unison they said, "If you aren't
dirty you didn't play hard enough."


Both sets of parents rolled their eyes. "Evelyn, are we sure they are not
twins?" Jason's mother asked.


Mrs. Minger laughed. "You don't know how many times I have asked that over
the years, Barbara."


The two friends slapped hands before chest bumping each other. Jason tried
not to laugh, but couldn't stop himself. When he turned his head he notice
a tall, dark haired student at the far end of the bleachers looking his
way. He had seen the guy around campus, but never met him. Jason thought he
saw a smile as he stepped off the stands, heading for the field house. Not
sure, he let it go.


"What say we meet about 6:30." He heard Mr. Minger suggest. "We'll make
dinner reservations for 7:00."


Jason nodded his agreement to Darryl who said, "Sounds good dad."


"Wonderful game boys." This came from a middle-aged woman who walked over
with a short, balding, slightly overweight man.


"Thanks Mrs. Colmar," Darryl answered. "Felt good to get this win."


Despite being friends with Jordan since they were 5, Jason never really
felt comfortable with the Colmars. He always thought they tried too hard to
fit in. Mrs. Colmar wore a blue track suit she probably bought just for
today. Jason knew she didn't exercise much and the jogging suit did not
flatter her.


Her husband, dressed in blue slacks, light blue shirt and sports coat, was
checking his blackberry while she spoke to him and Darryl. As the owner of
several strip malls, Mr. Colmar never seemed to relax. He made up for not
spending more time with his children with expensive gifts. When Jordan
turned 18, his parents bought him a Porsche 911. No doubt to make sure
Jordan had a better car than either Darryl, Jason or any of his other
friends.


"Will Jordan be joining us for dinner?" Jason asked. Although he didn't
much care for the Colmars, he and Jordan were good friends.


"He said he will try," Mrs. Colmar answered. "There is some fraternity
event today. As rush chairman he said he was very busy."


Jason did his best not to roll his eyes. Jordan was not rush chairman; he
was helping the chairman. Rather than correct her, Jason merely nodded. "If
you talk to him tell him I hope he makes it."


The woman gave him a genuine smile. "I will be sure to let him know."


"Ok, we have to book." Darryl bumped him and pointed toward their
coach. Although not at the field house, Coach Slewman was getting close
enough that they were going to have to hustle to beat him to the locker
room. "See you at 6:30."


"Bye." Jason managed to get out before he and his friend took off.


Running side by side, they pushed their tired legs for one last dash across
the field. After their impromptu play today, they knew the coach would make
them run laps if they were late.


The fan Jason thought smiled at him was walking slowly across the field,
gym bag slung over his shoulder. As the pair sprinted across the pitch, he
turned toward them. For a split second Jason made eye contact with him.


"Nice game guys." Jason heard him say.


"Thanks man." Darryl answered.


Jason smiled and gave him a quick wave, still unsure about what he saw. The
pair continued running before he could give it more thought.


Halfway across the field, their coach looked back. To Jason's eye, Coach
Slewman appeared to speed up.


"Son of a bitch!" Jason said between breathes.


"I ain't running laps." Darryl said.


Jason ran harder, realizing they were being played.


Panting, they reached the field house a step ahead of their coach.


Gasping, Jason put his hands on his knees, watching Darryl do the same.


"That was better than making you run laps." Coach Slewman said. "I will
have to remember this next time I need to discipline someone."


Jason stared at his coach's gloating expression, sure he had a `son of a
bitch' look on his face.


"Hey don't blame me," the older man laughed. "You guys talked too long. Now
get inside so I can start the meeting. Oh and next practice you each owe me
5 laps."


"But . . . ." Darryl tried to protest.


"It would have been 25 if you hadn't scored." The look on Coach Slewman's
face told Jason they were not getting out of this. "And you can thank me
later for not making your do it today after the game."


"Yes, sir." Jason mumbled. "Thanks."


"Yeah thanks." Darryl managed without much enthusiasm.


Jason rubbed his hair as he left the locker room. "They really need new
showers."


"Tell me about it." Darryl replied. "I still feel like I have soap in my
hair."


"You probably have more than just soap in that brillo pad you call hair."
Jason jumped back to avoid the swipe from his friend. Stumbling a bit
further, he felt himself back into someone.


"Sorry," he stammered, turning to see who he ran into and if they were
hurt. The same guy he saw on the field was standing behind him. Jason
noticed a blue gym bag upside down on the ground. A towel and a hair brush
sat a few feet away next to the wall.


"It's cool." He told Jason.


Jason bent down to pick up the fallen items, nearly banging his head when
the other man did the same.


"Sorry man," Jason repeated, grabbing the brush and towel. "I didn't know
you were there."


He was about to hand the damp towel back when he noticed a white robe and
black belt half out of the bag. Looking up, Jason found himself staring
into his `victim's' dark brown eyes.


"Really, it's no problem." He smiled at Jason before he turned his
attention to stuffing the robe and towel back in the bag.


"Do you take martial arts classes here?" Groaning inwardly at how stupid he
sounded, Jason stood up to hide his face.


"I am on the school team." Standing up, he held out his hand. "Peter
Gregory."


"Jason Tellerman," he shook hand with Peter. Pointing to Darryl he said,
"That's Darryl."


"Nice to meet you both." Peter's eyes lingered on Jason long enough for
them both to look down. Staring at his bag Peter said, "Great game. Loved
the header near the end. Looks like you two practice that a lot."


"Ha!" Darryl snorted. "Tell that to Coach Slewman. We got five laps after
practice Monday for that play."


"Really?" Peter looked confused. "But you scored."


"I was supposed to take a shot, not chip it up for Darryl." Jason looked
back at Peter, trying not to stare. "That was something we did in high
school. Coach doesn't want us using our own plays."


"Still," Peter shrugged. "It looked good."


Despite his efforts, Jason realized he was staring again. Turning away he
mumbled, "um, thanks."


"Hey Jase," Darryl said. "We better go. The rents will be there at 6:30."


Although he didn't want to go, Jason knew he had no choice. To Peter he
said, "We need to go. Sorry again for backing into you."


"Seriously, it's all good." Peter told him.


"Cool." Jason could feel himself smiling. "See you around."


"Yeah." Darryl added.


"Bye." Peter picked up his bag, walking toward the parking lot.


Walking next to Darryl, Jason resisted the urge to turn around to see if
Peter was watching.


"He seemed awful sweet on you Jase." Darryl joked.


"Whatever dude." Jason made sure he didn't smile. "He could kick both our
asses without breaking a sweat. I seriously doubt he was sweet on either of
us. Probably couldn't believe what a dork I am to back into him like that."


"Just because he is tough doesn't mean he can't like guys you know." Darryl
said as they reached his car. Clicking the key fob, he unlocked the doors
to his blue mustang. "But you're probably right; you were quite the
doofus. I mean who backs into people like that?"


"Hey, if you hadn't tried to nail me, I wouldn't have jumped back."


"Yeah, well, don't hate on my hair and I won't have to slug you." Darryl
laughed.


"What??" Jason played along. "All I said was you have steel wool for
hair. How's that hating on it?"


Darryl started the car. "Dibs on the shower first."


"No way." Jason protested. "You just want me to be late when Royce and
Barbara are early."


Darryl shrugged. "Hey, Evelyn and Keith are going to be with Barbara and
Royce. I don't want to be late either. And since I called it first, I get
to go first."


"Who made up that stupid rule?" Jason knew the answer before he asked.


"You did Jase." Darryl reminded him.


*

Jason knocked on the door. "Dude, seriously, you need to get out. Royce
will not be happy if I am late."


"Go shower, I'm done in there." Darryl opened the door.


Tossing his towel over the hook, he got in the shower. It only took a few
seconds to get the water warm enough to turn on the spray.


"Seriously, D what takes you so long? I mean you don't need to spend time
on your hair." Jason said as he quickly washed up.


"You white boys just don't get it." Darryl replied. "I need to moisturize
or my skin gets all dry and scaly. Why do you think I have the jumbo sized
bottle of lotion?"


"To jerk off with?" Jason laughed.


"Who uses lotion for that?" Darryl sounded incredulous. "Don't tell me
you've been snarking my lotion to beat off dude."


"No worries there D," Jason said between rinsing off. "I got that taken
care of on my own thanks."


"That a relief. Not sure how I would be able to use this bottle again
knowing you had it that close to your boy." Darryl laughed.


"Whatever dude, we both know when I'm not here you sneak into my room and
steal condoms from me when you're out." Jason laughed.


"Better to steal `em than borrow `em, don't you think?" Darryl
replied. Jason heard him brushing his teeth.


"Ok that is nasty." Jason stuck his head around the back end of the
curtain. "I seriously would kill you if you put a used condom back in my
draw."


Darryl burst out laughing, spewing toothpaste all over the mirror. Jason
joined him before ducking back into the shower.


"What if I used your last one? Wouldn't want to leave high and dry." Darryl
began laughing harder.


"That's okay D, leave me hanging. Please." Jason turned off the water.


"Okay, but remember you said that." Darryl tossed him a towel.


Cocking his head Jason asked, "how did this turn into my giving you
permission to rob me blind?"


"What are best friends for?" Darryl joked. "Besides, you owe me so many tee
shirts, socks, towels, you name it. You are always forgetting something."


"True."


"Plus you seem to think the apocalypse is coming and you will run out."
Darryl said. "Do you go to Costco and ask for the biggest box of condoms
you can find?"


"Hey," he answered. "One can never be too prepared. Some of us need more
than others."


This topic was moving toward a place Jason didn't want to go.


"Yeah?" Darryl said. "Then why do you always have so many around? Doesn't
seem like you're using them up too fast."


"Dry spell." Jason answered quickly. Now the conversation really was going
somewhere he didn't want it to go. "I can't believe the Colmars came with
our folks. Did you see that stupid get up she was wearing?"


"I know! When was the last time either of them got any exercise?"


Jason rubbed his face to check his stubble. Not bad enough to need a
shave. Running some gel through his short blonde hair he combed it
out. "When they conceived Jordan?"


He opened the door to the medicine cabinet and removed his deodorant. When
he shut the door, he saw Darryl standing in the doorway, staring at him.


"Dude," Darryl looked like he smelled a skunk. "That's so rude. I may not
be able to eat dinner with that image in my head."


"Sorry." Jason's face matched his friend's as he realized what he
suggested. "Yeah that is nasty."


Darryl continued to stare at him before bursting out laughing. "I'm not
sure I can look at them now without laughing."


"Wait until she asks you a question." Jason wrapped his towel around his
waist. Sorting through a few CDs in the main room he said, "U2? Sum-41?
Greenday? The Bee Gees? How the fuck did this get into our stack?"


"Emily likes that." Darryl confessed.


Jason tossed the disc to his friend. "Keep it hidden please. No one can
find that here."


"I'm feeling Linkin Park tonight." Darryl said throwing the CD into his
room.


"1, 2, or 3?" Jason sifted through another stack.


"Go with the one before the newest." Darryl walked back into the bathroom.


Noting the time, Jason put the disc in, turned on shuffle and went to get
dressed. Darryl opened the door as Jason walked by. Together they started
singing and playing air guitar.


Rushing to get dressed, Jason figured he had until end of the first song
before his always early father knocked on the door. Given their parents
were essentially filling time until their sons were ready, his father would
no doubt be even earlier than usual. It had become a game between father
and son to see if Jason could be ready before his father arrived. As a
result, he learned to get dressed in record time.


Buttoning up his shirt he walked in to Darryl's room singing, "I'll never
be alright, I'm breaking the habit, breaking the habit, tonight."


They both sang the last word as loud as they could as the song finished.


"6:15." Darryl noted. "Royce will be unhappy to find you ready."


A knock on the front door preempted Jason's reply. They both laughed as the
music began again. "Do you think they've been knocking and we didn't hear
it?" Jason asked.


Shaking his head, Darryl grabbed his shoes. "Nah, even Royce Tellerman
wouldn't knock before 6:15."


Darting back into his room for shoes, he practically ran to open the door
before his father could knock again. Smiling he flung the door open.


His mother looked him up and down, smiling. "Told you he would be ready."
She said to her husband, who also smiled.


"Wouldn't be the first time he wasn't." He quipped.


Darryl's parents followed his parents into the small campus-owned
apartment.


"The Colmars aren't joining us?" Darryl asked hopefully. Mrs. Minger's sour
look told Jason not to get his hopes up.


"They're picking up Jordan." Royce answered. "We're meeting them at the
restaurant."


"Jason, can you turn that down?" His mom asked.


"Sorry," he turned the music off. "When we're in the bathroom we need it
that loud to hear it."


"We heard it in the parking lot." Darryl's father noted. "I'm sure it
didn't need to be quite that loud for you to hear it in you rooms."


"No, but it needs to be that loud to drown out Darryl's lame attempt to
sing." Jason stared at his friend. "He's practicing to make the bloopers
reel of the American Idol tryouts."


"Me?!?" Darryl feigned indignation. "I think you were hearing yourself sing
Jase. I'm a great singer."


Darryl's parents laughed first, followed by Jason. "Sorry Son, but I've
heard you sing." His mother said. "You inherited your father's musical
ability."


"Sadly true, Son," his father agreed.


"Well at least I didn't nearly get my ass kicked by the school's martial
arts expert after the game like someone almost did." Darryl slowly turned
toward Jason.


Rolling his eyes, Jason noticed the concerned look on his mother's
face. "He's joking mom. I accidently backed into a guy on the school
martial arts team. No big deal."


"If it was no big deal why was he eying you up like he did?" Darryl asked.


Jason could feel himself getting uncomfortable with this
conversation. "Maybe you should go ask him if he was trying to hit on
me. Then let me know who got whose butt kicked."


"If you boys are done." Mrs. Tellerman interrupted. Jason suppressed a
smile. Given how proper his mother was, he was surprised she let this go on
as long as it did.


"Shall we head out?" Mr. Minger suggested. "Are you boys riding with us?"


"Nah," Darryl answered. "We'll drive ourselves, that way we can head out
when we're finished."


Turning to his wife, Darryl's father said, "I think we were just told they
were ditching us once dinner is over."


"What did you expect?" She answered. "They don't want to hang around us all
night."


"Don't we have reservations to be obscenely early for?" Darryl's attempt to
change the topic only got a laugh from Jason.


Noting the glare he received from his father, Jason regretted not stifling
his reaction. "Nothing wrong with being early," he said to cover. "We can
all get a drink at the bar while we wait for the table to be ready."


"Need I remind you Jason Henry Tellerman that you are not twenty." His
mother said.


Using his full name, Jason knew his mother was not joking. "We both know it
won't be the first time I've a beer mom."


Now it was his mother's turn to give him an angry stare. "Just because you
don't have the good sense to obey the law does not mean I will let you
break it in my presence and in public no less."


"Fine," he said. "Darryl and I will have soda, or is that too much and we
should order Shirley Temples instead?"


"That's enough, Son," Royce's voice lost any hint of humor. "That's not how
you address your mother."


"Sorry, Mom." His half hearted apology did little to mollify his parents.


After an awkward period of silence that last too long for Jason's liking,
Mr. Minger said, "Okay, why don't we head over to the restaurant. We don't
want to keep the Colmars waiting."


*



Dinner proved more pleasant than the few minutes inside Jason and Darryl's
apartment foreshadowed. As Jason knew she would, his mother avoided any
hint of the tense exchange that occurred before dinner. Hank and Rebecca
Colmar were fashionably late and blamed it on their son. Keith and Royce
jockeyed for the bill while Hank seemed not to notice or care. Rebecca
Colmar appeared uncomfortable when her husband did not even offer to split
the bill.


"I almost felt sorry for him." Darryl said as he opened the door to Jason's
green BMW 328i.


"Felt sorry for whom?" Jason asked when he got in.


"Jordan," Darryl answered. "Did you notice how he spent most of dinner
trying to get his mom to stop talking about him."


"You felt sorry for Jordan? Am I hearing this right?" Jason knew Darryl and
Jordan were not friends.


"No, I said I almost felt sorry for him." Darryl laughed.


Jason shrugged slightly though he was sure Darryl couldn't see it. In his
mind, Darryl had good reason not to like Jordan. Jason and Jordan had been
friends since kindergarden. When Darryl and his family moved two houses
down from Jason when they were ten, Jordan felt replaced. In a sense that
was true, Darryl was his best friend, but Jason never cut Jordan out of
anything. Caught between the two, Jason tried not to side with either, but
given how tight he and Darryl were, he inevitably spent less time with
Jordan as they got older. When Jordan didn't make the college soccer team,
it further cut into the time the two friends spent with each other.


"His mom really was annoying tonight." Jason conceded. "Your mom reached
for her wine glass every time Mrs. Colmar starting bragging about this and
that."


Darryl laughed. "Yeah, I haven't seen her drink that much in years. One
glass with dinner is usually her max."


"Jordan looked like he wanted to join her, only he probably was hoping for
vodka not wine." Shifting gears, Jason tried to concentrate on the drive as
he could feel himself getting tired.


"It's his own fault." Darryl said without sympathy. "You know he's lying to
her about what he does. Rush chairman, dozens of girls chasing him, so
popular on campus. Where do you think she got all that from?"


"C'mon D, you're biased." Jason felt the need to defend Jordan, even though
Darryl was right. "You always think the worst of him."


"No, no, no, not in this." Darryl argued. "Rebecca Colmar loves to crow
about her precious kids and Jordan likes to keep mommy happy. It keeps the
taps running on the money from home."


Jason knew he couldn't argue with Darryl on this. "Yeah he's told some
whoppers to keep them happy. It's amazing he still does it after all the
times he has been caught lying to them."


"So long as they don't bitch slap him for it, and they never do, he has no
reason to stop." Darryl replied. "Sometimes I think his mom knows he's
lying, but wants to believe he is so wonderful so bad she'll believe
whatever he tells her."


"You just don't like him or his family." Jason tried again to defend his
friend. "Jordan isn't that bad."


"Whatever Jase," Darryl said. "You know what he's like. I think the only
reason you're friends with him is because you two have known each other so
long. If you met him today for the first time, tell me, would you want to
be friends?"


Everything Jordan said or did lately left Jason wondering what happened to
his oldest friend. "I wish I could say you're wrong but I can't. He's so
different lately I hardly know him."


"Sorry Jase." Darryl shook his head. "He's the same jackass I always knew."


"Anyway," Jason wanted to change topics, he always did when Darryl tried to
bad mouth Jordan. "What are you doing tonight?"


"Got a date with Emily." Darryl's mood improved as soon as they stopped
talking about Jordan. "What are you gonna do?"


"Study some and sleep." Jason downshifted as they neared their campus-owned
apartment complex.


"Lame, dude." Darryl snorted. "It's Saturday night Jase, aren't you even
going out and try to hook up?"


He knew his friend was only trying to be encouraging, but Jason cringed
inwardly every time Darryl raised the topic of his sex life. "Nah, not
feeling it tonight. Don't worry, I won't be visible when you get
back. Which is what you really want to know right?"


Jason shot his best friend a quick look then focused on parking.


"Ha, am I that obvious?" Darryl didn't sound the least bit embarrassed.


"Yeah but it's all good." He answered.


"I could see if Emily has a cute friend she . . . ." Darryl began.


"Stop right there D." Jason pulled the parking break up for emphasis. "A
blind date? And you are going to trust your girlfriend to decide if her
friend is cute? What girl in the history of the world ever said one of her
girl friends wasn't good looking?"


Darryl held up both hands laughing. "OK, you have a point. I was just
trying to be helpful. You're the one who said you were going through a dry
spell."


"And I'll work my way through it." Jason added quickly. "Thanks for
thinking of me, but I'm fine."


*


Sitting on his bed, Jason put the psychology book down, unable to absorb
another fact. Next to him, his silver MacBook sat charging, connected to
the outlet by the white power cord. Lifting the lid, he watched the screen
come to life, ready for him to go wherever he chose.


Clicking the Firefox icon, his home page popped open allowing him to scan
the headlines. Skipping from site to site, he avoiding going where he
really wanted to check out. He knew it was stupid for so many reasons so he
resisted. Finally, knowing it would keep pulling him, he clicked over to
Craigslist and looked in the Missed Connections section.


Why did he care? Even if he saw what he thought he saw after the game, what
were the odds Peter would post it? Worse still, what if there was a post?
There was no way Jason could respond. What would happen if that got out?


No harm in satisfying his curiosity he concluded. Besides, once there was
no post, he could put it to rest. Sure there would be nothing there he
opened the "M4M" option. Just as when he scanned this section before, there
were only a handful of ads for any given day. At least there wouldn't be a
lot to read, he though when his heart started pounding.


"Graydon Field House, today around 5 p.m." The headline read.


Despite a sense of doom that he might be found out, he couldn't help being
excited. Surprised it was there, he just stared at the screen. It had to be
from Peter to him, didn't it? The coincidence if it wasn't was too
great. Should he open it and see or just let it go? This made it
harder. Had there been no ad, he could easily have dismissed what he
thought happened as a figment of his imagination. If, however, this was
about him and Peter earlier today, he would need to confront what he didn't
want to deal with.


Although he could barely say it even silently to himself, Jason knew he was
gay. The problem was he didn't want to be and he resisted acting on it as
hard as he could. The consequences of being outed scared the shit out of
him. His soccer career would be over. There was no way his teammates would
want to play with him.


Then there was his mother, she who was one step removed from being Pope. A
gay son, her eldest son, was not something that fit into her perfect
suburban world. If she didn't approve, dad wouldn't either, she would see
to that. Without them, Jason could kiss his car, his monthly allowance, all
the things he was used to doing without a thought to the cost,
goodbye. Without the `rents to finance his college years, he would go from
well heeled, carefree soccer jock to needing to find a way to pay for
things. Right now he didn't worry about money. Tuition, room, spending
money, car insurance, the impromptu ski trips, spring break with the team,
everything, was covered. Get cut off, and even if he managed to stay in
school - somehow - he wouldn't recognize his life.


He lost track of how long he stared at the screen, cursor hovering over the
heading waiting for him to click it. Finally he got the nerve to open the
link.


"Total long shot but figured it was worth a try. U tall, blonde, drop dead
cute leaving the field house With Ur friend around 5 p.m. We made eye
contact earlier, then I ran into u when U and Ur friend were goofing
around. U backed into me & I dropped my bag U helped me pick up my
stuff. It might be wishful thinking on my part but I thought our eyes
locked and I saw interest. If I am right and U see this, would love to get
coffee and chat. Tell me what team I am on so I know it is U."


There it was on the screen, staring him in the face. What now? It wasn't
just an ad, it was his whole life digitally reduced to a few lines. If he
replied . . . he caught himself. If he replied? That wasn't an option. Of
course he wouldn't respond. How could he?


On the other hand, Peter was really cute and he a student athlete. There
couldn't be many of those, especially at a small college like Graydon.


No, he told himself. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn't risk
it. His whole life was at stake.


His whole lie of a life, he reminded himself. It's not like he hadn't
hooked up before, just that those times he did, he made sure it wasn't
around home or campus. He didn't want to run into the guy accidently. This
held entirely too many dangers he always tried to avoid. In fact, this
violated just about every rule he had concerning his sexuality: don't meet
guys who you might see again; don't give out your email address or phone
number so you could be tracked down later; don't find someone you might
totally fall for.


Clicking the link to get email address to reply, he looked blankly at the
security code wondering what he should do next. What he wanted and what he
knew he should do were at war like never before. There had been a spark
when their `eyes locked,' he felt it too. This time he WANTED to reply;
wanted to see how it felt to meet someone he might have something more than
an hour or two with.


Despite Darryl's snide remark about Peter being sweet on Jason, Peter
didn't seem like the stereotypical gay man. He was masculine, athletic,
dressed like the other guys on campus, had no feminine mannerisms. If there
had been no ad, Jason wouldn't be sure he was gay. If they were seen
hanging out together no one would talk would they?


Checking the security words again, he typed in "blue Heron," revealing the
reply to address. Jerking his hands off the keyboard, he shook his head. He
all but replied.


"I should close the window." He said aloud.


If that was the case, why hadn't he done it already? Because he really
wanted to reply he told himself.


Copying the address, he logged onto the `anonymous' email account he
created in high school. Pasting it in the send to line, he still argued
with himself over whether to reply or not.


Nothing good would come from this, he knew it with every cell in his
body. He would end up outed for sure. Try as he might, he would never be
able to hide having a boyfriend, especially one from campus.


Yet all Peter suggested was coffee, what could be the harm in that? What if
he made it clear in his reply he was not out, but thought Peter was cute
and just wanted to be friends?


"Right, that's a great response." He muttered. "I think you're hot but I'm
a closet case so all I want to be is friends. Why did I mention you were
hot you ask? Because I wanna fuck around with you - but just as friends of
course."


He typed as he spoke. Snorting, he highlighted what he wrote, then hit
delete. Either do it or don't.


Trying to weigh the pros and cons, he started to type them out as he
thought of them. Pros, he is cute, seems nice, is a student, not a queen,
did I say cute, likes soccer - or is it just soccer players, would be good
in a fight. Cons, if people found out his life would be ruined and he would
end up living in a cardboard box digging food scrapes from a dumpster until
he died of exposure.


"Ok that's a bit dramatic." He deleted that and started over.


Cons, he would be outed for sure, he would be off the soccer team, his
parents would be pissed, he might get cut off.


"Damn!" Jason almost tossed his computer onto the floor, but dropped it on
the bed instead. Why did it have to be so difficult? No matter what he did
he wasn't going to be happy.


Over and over he read his lists, hoping for some insight that would help
him make a decision. Finally he closed the window and pulled the top
down. Sending a response left a trail, a trail he couldn't erase. Rather
than reply, he would see if he could figure out a way to become friends
with Peter without revealing he saw the ad, that he was gay or that he knew
Peter was gay. By not responding he could pretend not to know about Peter
and see what happened. Maybe once he met him and spent time with him he
wouldn't like him. Better the cautious approach than risking too much on so
little.


Content with his decision, he picked up his text book. Slamming it shut he
threw it on the ground, glad to finally toss something in frustration.