Date: Thu, 7 Aug 2008 01:15:59 +0100
From: mac_manap@msn.com
Subject: American-English, pt. 3
Before you read the next chapter, I would like to give my
whole-hearted thanks to Rob who is now my co-writer from Chapter Five
onwards. He's inspiring me constantly and has a brain full to the brim with
ideas. So if it gets better from part five onwards, then that'll be the
reason why.
So, again, thank you Rob.
Also, thanks to everyone who has emailed me their kind, kind
words. I do really appreciate every email I get. It's both a blessing and
stressing to know that so many people look forward to and enjoy reading
this drivel. It honestly makes my day.
Anyway, happy reading!
This story is entirely fictional. If it seems familiar then it's
because it is. I stalked you and took parts of your life for this story. I
have that kind of time. If anything offends you, well, too late because you
already read it. To be fair, you are on a site where you could come across
anything, so you have no right to be offended. So there.
If it is illegal for you to read this in your community, then I
advise you to leave. However, I can't personally do anything about it. I
won't to be honest, because I'm lazy.
Thank you, I'll be here all week!
Enjoy!
AMERICAN-ENGLISH
CHAPTER THREE.
THE BEAUTIFUL GAME.
"...when the rain is pouring down...and my heart is hurting..."
7.30 am. Damn alarm clock.
I woke up unwillingly as the music filled the room. I was still in
my clothes from last night. And lying on the floor. I didn't quite know how
I had gotten there, although a dream about falling did seem recently
familiar...
As the shower warmed up, I began to remember events from the night
before. The streaming water brought back the snippets of conversation with
each gush. Had I really made friends with Clay? It was strange to think
that the two of us could have had a pleasant, civilised evening. But it did
seem possible. I began washing my skin and felt the lump on the side of my
head and the sore tender flesh as I rubbed my cheeks. Yesterday's fight was
still fresh in my mind. I didn't know what to make of the whole
situation. Clay was beginning to seem more and more schizo.
Walking to school an hour or so later, a shiny black convertible
passed me and pulled over up ahead. Clay stepped out and headed into a
small turning off the main road. Indicating for me to join him, I followed
down the alley.
"Hey man, you alright?"
"Yeah, cheers," I replied. This would be the friendly CJ, it seemed.
"We gotta talk." He walked me deeper down the alley, looking
slightly solemn. "Look. Before we get to school, I just gotta talk to you
about something. You see...my friends..."
His pause lasted a while as he tried to think of his
wording. However, I guessed where this was going. "They're not fans of
mine," I said, with as little emotion as I could muster.
"Yeah, something like that. I dunno what they're problem is,
but... well, whatever. I just didn't want you to think I was ignoring you
or anything..."
"Oh." My face felt tingly, and my stomach felt knotty again. For
some reason my eyes had an overwhelming urge to tear up. I couldn't explain
it. "Oh, yeah...no, no, that's cool. I understand." I falsified a smile as
best I could. "Look, err, I've got to get going or I'm going to be
late. Walking tends to take a bit longer than driving, so I guess I'll just
catch up with you later at school?" I was already backing towards the main
road, my face unable to hide my hurt feelings.
"Hey, man...I hope you're ok with this."
"Yeah, course I am. I'm fine." I turned and walked on.
"I can give you a ride if you like? We're both going the same way
after all," he punctuated his sentence with mild laughter.
"No. I'm fine," I called back. "It's not really wise anyway, is it?
You can't really afford to be seen with me, after all."
I turned back onto the main road before he could say another word
and, walking quicker now, continued my schlep to school. I watched him
drive past me soon afterwards.
It wasn't until I reached the school gates when I remembered about
the photo. Someone had taped a couple of copies to the metal fence bars. I
could feel myself going red in the face.
Was this really how school was going to be from now on? Teased
mercilessly? Having people take you for granted? You read about these
people all the time and I really did not want to be another guy who had a
miserable school experience. No, I was going to end this. Today. Enough was
enough.
They want to pick on me? Well, I'm not taking it quietly, I
thought. I walked straight over to the hanging pictures and looked up at
them. I could feel a small crowd of people close-by, ready for me to tear
them down in a rage. Instead, I smiled and chuckled.
"Not too shabby, really. Estralita really knows how to capture a
moment, don't you think?" I said to no one in particular and walked on
through the gates. Whispers, not laughter, followed me.
"Hey, dude, where's your towel?" One guy called at me across the
courtyard.
Had the insults really been this pathetic all along? How had I let
this get to me? It was ridiculous. I smiled back at the jeering jocks.
"Sorry mate, I left it at home today. It's a bit cold for that!"
People seemed to be a little shocked with my responses. More and more
people seemed to be laughing with me for a change. Of course, there were
still many who didn't care what I said and still continued with their
heckling, regardless.
Reaching my locker, I prepared myself for another bombardment of wet
towels that were sure to be waiting inside. Opening cautiously, I was a
little disappointed to find only one, dry towel resting on top of my
books. Laughing lightly, I pulled it out and threw it over my shoulder. I
grabbed the appropriate books which were still a little damp from
yesterday's events, and closed the door.
Someone yanked the towel from my shoulder and smacked me on the arse
with it. It hurt more than I thought it would have done, not being wet. I
turned to my attacker as laughter once again broke out. Brady was holding
the towel in his hand, cracking up senselessly with Evander and Dylan.
"Yo, dude, that hurt?" Brady seemed very amused with himself. "Man,
why did you bring this to school with you? Wanna parade your pretty little
self around the school?" He put on a high, camp voice and wrapped the towel
around his waste.
"Nah, that's not mine," I responded calmly. "It wouldn't fit me- not
quite big enough if you know what I mean. But you can take it; it'll
probably fit you, although it might be a bit big for someone as stunted as
you."
His smile vanished instantly. "Who're you calling stunted, fag?"
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, mate- I didn't realise you were
so touchy about it. Is it bad genes or something?" Anyone within listening
reach had stopped what they were doing.
"We gotta problem here?" Dylan, standing around 6'4 towered over us
as he stepped in to the circle, more people crowding around.
"This queer is dissing me, dude," Brady said as bravely as he
could. I just laughed.
"Something funny, fag?" Dylan asked, his deep voice filling the
room.
"Jesus...it's like some fucked up version of Laurel & Hardy, only
it's tall and short instead of fat and thin. God, Brady, I didn't realise
you needed back up for a `fag' like me, Brady."
"You hear that, he just admitted to being a fag, you homo!" Brady
started cracking up again. Only a few people joined in though.
I smiled back at him calmly, "Look, guys, I need to be
somewhere. But this was fun, let's do it again some time." I started
walking away.
"Hey! I'm not done with you, you scrawny little bitch!" Brady called
back.
I chuckled and scoffed again. "Scrawny and little? Buddy, you really
need to take a look in the mirror sometime."
"You don't think I can take you?" he stepped towards me.
"Hey, if you think you can, who am I to deny you that?"
"Keep talking, man, and I'll give you another fat lip. Looks like
you already got pretty badly beat on. You want more? Just say another
word."
The crowd was silent. Evander stepped up beside Dylan, both of whom
hung back a short distance from Brady, his fists clenched.
I considered my options. Brady would hit me, no doubt, if I said
anything; there were no teachers around. On the other hand, how much would
it really hurt? I lived through Clay's assault, after all.
"What's a midget like you going to do?"
He lunged for me, and I ducked out of the way just in time, hitting
him in the stomach as he missed. I must have hit him harder than I thought;
he went down, winded, clutching his stomach. Dylan and Evander stepped up
to me, defending the honour of their friend. Evander tried to pin me,
giving Dylan free access. He was pure muscle. This was going to hurt.
It did. He smacked me right in the stomach, like I had Brady. I
groaned loudly feeling the excruciating pain as I keeled over in Evander's
clutches. Then he struck me in the face four or five times, no doubt giving
me that promised second fat lip, and then some.
"You want more, bitch?" Dylan shouted. Evander had me in a
headlock. I couldn't breathe let alone respond.
"I think he's learnt his lesson," Evander said cockily. He released
me and I fell to the floor straight away.
Brady, who had found his footing, decided he still hadn't gotten his
revenge, and kicked me in the gut as I lay on the floor. Spitting on me,
and throwing the towel at me, they walked down the hall. I fought as hard
as I could to prevent myself from crying. The crowd were still in near
silence, standing around watching me. A couple of girls walked over to me
and helped me up. My lip was bleeding badly and my left eye felt numb.
"You okay, Jacob?" They asked.
"Yeah..." I said softly as I was aided to my feet. "I didn't feel a
thing." I smiled, and heard them both chuckle.
"LeAnn, get him over to the bench."
"Look, you don't have to...I'm alright..."
"Yeah, course you are!" LeAnn added sarcastically.
It seems corny to mention it, but having someone there to pick me up
when I was down...it felt really good. It seemed to make the pain lessen. I
saw Clay walk through the door up ahead as I was sat down. He saw the crowd
of people in the hall, huddled and gossiping. He saw me slumped on the
bench, LeAnn and her friend either side of me.
"What happened here?" he asked one of the passers by who explained
what had happened.
"What?" he looked angry. Or was it worried? I couldn't see
properly. Nausea and dizziness impacted my vision. He stared at me for a
while before starting towards us. I really didn't need this right now.
"CJ?! Oh my god! Did you hear what happened to Brady?"
Chrissie came rushing down the corridor as soon as she spotted Clay,
who stopped advancing.
"Yeah, I just found out," he said as he turned to receive her
hug. She looked over his shoulder as they embraced. She saw me, pulped and
bloodied (maybe not quite that bad, but it's more dramatic that way!) and,
angrily, she strode over to me.
"You bastard! What's your problem?"
"My problem?" I wheezed. "Go to hell!"
"Don't you talk to me like that-"
"Hey, Chrissie? Get the hell out of here," LeAnn's friend said
standing to face her. She was taller and curvier than Chrissie was, with
long dark hair.
"I wasn't talking to you Alicia!"
"Well I'm talking to you now," she replied. By this point I was
feeling the need to heave. My head and stomach were pounding.
"This has nothing to do with you, tramp, so back the fuck off!" It
was weird to hear Chrissie swear with her innocent, girly voice.
"Fuck you, bitch."
"Hey! Don't be calling her a bitch, you dirty slut," Clay stepped in
to defend his girlfriend. "Chrissie, come on, let's find the others." He
pulled her away, glancing back once more toward me. I still couldn't read
his expression, I was too dizzy to concentrate properly, but I was sure he
was angry.
"What assholes!" LeAnn said to me. "The lot of them. How're you
feeling now? I can't believe the beating you took!" She seemed impressed.
"Yeah, man, that was impressive." Alicia sat down on my right hand
side. "I've never seen anyone stand up to those guys like that. I
mean...wow." She had a deeper, calming voice than LeAnn's. Her lips exuded
velvet as she spoke.
"And he took Dylan's punch pretty well. I've seen him slug a couple
of guys before and none of them made it to next period!" LeAnn
continued. She spoke with a lively, positive voice, although not at all
innocent in any way. This girl was tough, no doubt about it.
"Thanks," I smiled. "But I'm not a hero or anything. I'm just sick
of being the butt of all the jokes around here."
"What're you talking about?"
"Well, since I got here I've been pushed around and teased and..."
they both had puzzled expressions on their faces. "It's not been the best
couple of months for me, let's put it that way."
"Well, apart than these past two days, I hadn't noticed anyone
picking on you," Alicia said, her long, brown hair framing her incredibly
pretty face. Her dark skin matched her big brown eyes, which were warm and
intriguing. "All I've heard people say about you is that you're quiet. And
mystifying," she smiled when she said, adding a little dramatic
hand-gesture. "I mean, most people had never heard you speak before
today. I didn't even know you were English!" I couldn't help but laugh
back.
"Cheers...I guess."
"Here, I've got an ice pack in my bag," LeAnn began rummaging for
it. "You can put it on your lip...or eye. Whichever you think needs it the
most. Alicia, have you got any tissue?"
"Yeah, somewhere..." she started digging through her pocket as LeAnn
handed me the ice pack. She was very pale, especially in comparison to
Alicia. She had bright red hair that shone like fire when she moved. Her
green eyes were calming and soft.
You'd think I would have noticed a couple of girls like this, I
thought. It would be hard to miss them. They wore clothes that were sexy
and fitting, but in no way slutty. Conservatively sexy, I guess you could
say.
The bell rang. "Ah, shit, we're gonna be late to home room," Alicia
said, wiping the blood away from my lip. "You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah. I'll manage. I'm a big boy, after all. I need to head to the
toilet first anyway. Wash my face... Here," I held out the ice pack,
"thanks though."
"Keep it," LeAnn said. "I'll get it later. We'll meet up with you in
chemistry!" They walked down the hall and of sight as I headed for my
bathroom with the smashed mirror.
No one had cleaned it up since yesterday; the crystallised floor
glistened as the morning sun shone through the window. By the looks of
things no one had even used the bathroom since the incident. It did seem
that no one used this toilet. I walked over to the nearest sink, crunching
with every step. My face was red and shiny- I was most definitely going to
have a black eye by tomorrow. My lip was still bleeding. I splashed cold
water on my face, relishing the refreshing icy sensation as the water
washed against my searing skin. I looked back up in the mirror at my
dripping face.
"Jesus Christ, Clay, you scared the crap out of me!" Clay, standing
once again in the door way, watched me silently. If another fight broke
out...well, I didn't think my face could handle much more.
"What happened, dude?" His tone was...sensitive. He seemed sincerely
concerned.
"I'm sure you've heard all about it." I spoke in a static tone.
"Yeah... Brady said you were giving them shit, so he beat on you."
"What?" I said angrily.
"Yeah, tell me about it. The twins will become joint-President of
the United States before Brady ever beats on some guy!" he chuckled a
little.
"I'm glad you think it's funny."
"Look, I just wanted to make sure you're ok. When I saw you earlier
before Chrissie found me... I could have smacked Brady, dude. I hate that
guy. He's a asswipe. I only put up with him cos he's friends with Chrissie
and Evander."
"What, is that supposed to make me feel better or something?" I
spoke to him through the looking-glass.
"No... I just wanted you to know I'm on your side here, buddy."
"Cut the `buddy' crap, please." I couldn't stop myself now. "We're
not friends Clay. So stop thinking we are."
Maybe he wasn't used to people talking to him like that, or maybe it
was what I had said, but he looked wounded. Damn me and my big mouth.
"I'm sorry. I just..." he stopped, with nothing left to say.
I turned to face him as the bell rang. "Don't. You're the one who
set limits on our friendship, or whatever. So don't talk to me like we're
best friends one moment and then ignore me the next." He was about to
respond when I cut him off. "We have to get to English. I'll go first. We
don't want people to see us together after all, do we?" I walked out,
leaving him standing alone in the bathroom.
My face felt both numb and painful at the same time. I looked bad,
it was obvious I was in a fight. Hopefully the teachers wouldn't ask me
what had happened. Heading up to class, I was hounded by Estralita and
Evander walking in the opposite direction.
"Look at the poor baby," cooed Lita. "Aw, did Brady hurt the wickle
baby-kins?"
"You're not gonna cry like a little bitch, are you queer boy?
"Nah, I'm fine mate. I've had worse!" I called back. "And as bad as
I look, I still look better than the mask Esmeralda there is wearing," I
said, nodding to Estralita and her excessive use of make-up.
"Oh no you didn't just-" she tried to come back after me, but
Evander pulled her back. "Let me go, Evan!"
"Leave the punk-ass bitch, Lita. Is that the best you can do?" he
laughed after me.
Walking up the flights of stairs, I was stopped and questioned by
many people, a number of whom were girls. Many of them were curious about
what had happened, but a few of them seemed to actually be concerned about
me.
"Are you ok, Jacob?" they would ask.
"Did it hurt?"
"I can't believe you took on Dylan, Brady and Evander and just
walked away!" They were impressed that I hadn't fallen into a coma. Yet.
Clay sat on the opposite side of the room to me, albeit in the same
row. I felt his stare constantly shooting at me throughout the
period. Chrissie was sitting next to me with one of the twins- God knows
which one, I couldn't care less.
"They shouldn't have stopped hitting him until he couldn't talk! He
can't talk to poor Brady like that! Who does he think he is? He's such a
total loser." Chrissie had no intention of keeping her opinions to
herself. Twin-A muttered in agreement, filling in any short pauses with a
"Yeah, I know, right?" and "Definitely."
This must have gone on for most of the lesson. The few people who,
at first, were also in silent, nodding, monosyllabic agreement with
Chrissie, had started to grow tedious of her remarks, rolling their eyes
and tutting to themselves, none of them daring to tell her to shut up.
"Oh, would you please shut up, Chrissie." Well, maybe not all of
them.
"What?" Chrissie said, shocked.
"I told you to quit bitching," replied the girl in the back.
"Thank God! If I have to listen to you moan anymore about Jacob, I'm
gonna jump out of the window," interjected a boy in the front row.
It was at this point I realised the teacher wasn't in the room.
"Well there's the window!" Chrissie pointed to the other side of the
classroom, where I was sitting. "And take him with you!"
"After you, bitch!"
Both Twin-A and Chrissie raised a hand to their gasping mouths in
perfect unison. I began laughing. No one else seemed to, and once again the
focus turned on me.
"What are you laughing at?" Chrissie asked.
"You and your mini-me there."
I managed a light laugh from the crowd out of that one. She looked
shocked, as did Sister Richardson. I was fairly sure it was because she
didn't understand my insult.
"Clay, are you going to let him talk to me like that?"
I could see CJ trying to decide what to do. I was sure he was going
to have to stand up for Chrissie, who was looking annoyed that he wasn't
immediately jumping in to defend her.
"Are we done with the passage? It's a good one isn't it?" The
teacher had returned to the class for the last couple of minutes. He
chuckled to himself as he spoke. I don't think anyone had bothered with it,
but we all smiled in agreement nevertheless.
Chrissie was giving Clay a scornful look as the class disbanded and
headed off for their respective next periods. I had chemistry and, it
seemed, I would finally have someone other than the professor to speak to.
"Hey, Jacob! Over here!" LeAnn called. I pulled up a stool to the
same bench.
"How's your face feeling?" Alicia's sultry voice washed over me like
silk. She reached out and touched the side of my face with her soft
hands. "Your skin is hot, Jay." I felt myself blush a little.
"Alicia, he doesn't like being called Jay," LeAnn hissed to her
friend.
"Oh, sorry, Jacob." She pulled her hand away.
"I don't mind if my friends call me Jay...if I can call you two
friends," I added, hesitantly, feeling a little presumptuous.
"Yeah man, of course!" LeAnn said as she and Alicia smiled sweetly
at me. I felt warmth spread through the seclusion and I erupted with a
smile...it hurt. Having someone openly call me a friend felt good.
I hung out with the girls for most of the school day, avoiding Clay
as much as possible. Whenever I saw him heading towards me, I turned out of
the way, down adjacent corridors and into empty classrooms. Overall, the
day was pretty good. People were still holding the picture up to my face
and laughing, but I just laughed along with them, which seemed to throw
them off. In one case, I took the copy and signed it for the sophomore guys
who hung by my locker for their opportunity to get in on the joke. Leaving
them speechless, I headed for the changing rooms for gym class. By the time
I got there I was left with only a place in the middle of the room- not my
usual locale. Several copies of the infamous poster were on the walls with
various doodles and abuse written over them. Choosing to ignore them I
confidently got changed into my gear and headed out onto the field with the
rest of the guys.
Gym was, not surprisingly, my least favourite subject. My lack of
male friends made it a tough course to participate in, especially with all
the high adrenaline and testosterone. I was always ignored, slapped around
the head, chosen last and pushed into the mud. I doubted that any witty or
retaliatory come backs I might have would help me on this field.
The session always began with a warm-up and jog around the track
before starting the main event: baseball, American football,
basketball...your standard American sports. We had even played a few
sessions of rugby. So far I sucked at everything. My favourite part of each
lesson was the jog around the field. I was pretty fast and had stamina when
it came to running. It was the only time I seemed to excel here.
Clay, Dylan, Brady and Evander were all in this class with me-
another reason to hate this period. All but Clay shouted unheard insults my
way and laughed hysterically at their accomplishments.
"Ok guys, fall in!" Jackson called, blowing his whistle.
The gym teacher had always insisted on being called Jackson, rather
than Mr. Jackson. A relatively new teacher to the school, I assumed that
this was one of his first teaching jobs. He was young- indubitably the
youngest faculty member- and was built incredibly, like a Greek statue or
something. All of the girls, and some of the guys, were all swooning after
him. He had messed-up, light brown hair and stood at around 6'2. I wasn't
sure what his specialty was yet, but I knew he was the coach of the
baseball and football teams.
"Right, we're gonna do something a little bit differently
today. We're gonna start learning soccer..." a mild groan waved across the
group while I did a somersault inside, "...per request of CJ." He nodded to
the quarterback. Evander thumped him in the arm, while CJ stood
silently. Curious I stared over at him, wondering why he had done it. He
caught me watching and smiled weakly at me. I felt myself flush a little
and quickly turned away.
Jackson began discussing a few of the basic rules of the game. Most
of the guys didn't know much about the game with a few of looking
completely lost with the coach's words. I laughed at the prospect of
Jackson explaining the off-side rule to them. Pulling out the balls from
the sack, Jackson set up a warm up session, taking place in the goal he had
brought on to the pitch. He explained that everyone was to take one shot at
the goal. Dylan, Brady and Evander headed straight for the front of the
line, while Clay hung back a few places laughing at the other three as they
all spectacularly missed, shooting the ball way off to the right, left and
over respectively. I sniggered to myself, loving their humiliation as they
returned to the group with fresh wounds on their egos. CJ was the first guy
to score when he took his turn, although only just. The rest of the class
kicked ball-after-ball at the net, most missing, some coming close and some
repeating the techniques of the three stooges. Jackson, as it turned out,
was actually a really good goalie- he confessed that he used to play for
some semi-pro teams in Florida, his home state.
Once again, I was the last one to get a go after everyone else had
pushed me to the back of the line. Murmuring from the crowd increased as I
stepped up to the ball. Something about towels and crying...who knew? I
blocked it all out and concentrated on my target. It was difficult to see
with my bruising eye. Jackson was a fairly big guy, and very agile. Getting
past him would prove difficult. Lining up the ball, I took a few spaces
back. Considering where to aim, I ran up, kicked the ball and watched it
soar into the top right corner as Jackson dropped to the bottom left. It
shot into the back of the net as Jackson hit the ground, reaching for
nothing but air.
Jackson looked stunned. Underperforming in all sports so far had
made me the underdog on the field. I turned to face the class, a few of
whom were clapping. A painful smile etched on my face as I spotted Clay,
who was standing at the back. He was beaming at me. I felt myself blush a
little as I received his warm smile. Evander and the others were dazed
also, their mouths agape.
"What the fuck?! That was a lucky shot!" Brady shouted. Clay looked
angrily at him.
"Coach! Make him take it again!" Dylan called out, some other people
agreeing with him.
"What? Why?" he asked as he jogged back to the group.
"To prove it was a fluke!" he replied.
"He hit the goal. He beat me, fair and square." He scratched his
head, pulling some grass from his hair.
"No way! He cheated somehow! We all know he's a loser at sports!"
Brady ranted back.
"For God's sake," I muttered. "I'll take the bloody shot again
then. Just because you failed miserably, you can't have anyone else do
well, can you?" I shot at Brady who looked livid.
"Guys!" Jackson said. "Stop, alright? You wanna take the shot again,
Jacob?"
"Well I don't want to be known as a cheater," I said to the
coach. "Although, how one can cheat at taking a shot at the goal, I don't
know!" I yelled back at Brady. Jackson headed back to the goal as I took my
place once again.
"Yo, faggot!" Brady called, "If you're so good, then take the shot
from back here. Or are you scared you might fuck up, queer?"
I turned to look at him, feeling angry and red faced. My aching face
muscles still throbbed from the morning's beating, but I was going to show
him. Picking up the ball, I walked back to the team- a good thirty-five
feet from the goal. I had never tried scoring from this distance. I began
to regret submitting to Brady's taunts. Focussing on the target, I aimed
once again and stepped back a few spaces. Weighing my options, I ran up and
fired the ball.
Applause broke out as, once again, the ball smashed into the net,
dead centre, over the coach's head as he went for the top left corner. I
smiled broadly, feeling a rush I hadn't felt since...well, too long. A few
of the guys came at me and patted me on the back. Jackson headed for us,
smiling. I was just as shocked as he looked. Clay was clapping as well,
although lightly as to not emphasise his interest.
"No way! He cheated somehow!" Brady shouted at me and the coach as
he came up and shook my hand. "Make him do it again!"
"Brady! Shut up will you!" Jackson spat at Brady. I could tell he
wasn't a fan of the guy. "He hit the ball twice into the net. If you're not
gonna be a team-player on this field then get out of here."
I turned to Brady and, without helping it, smiled cockily at
him. "Did it not occur to you that a guy from England would be good at
football? Or are you always an ignorant arsehole?"
"Hey!" the coach shouted, as Brady went for me again. "Stop acting
like an ass, Carrick!" Brady was fuming. The coach, out of eyesight, winked
at me and continued with the lesson.
The rest of the session was spent learning the skills of passing the
balls from A-to-B using only your feet. A few of the guys found this
difficult. I doubted we'd be playing properly any time soon.
The class ended and we all headed up to the showers. Some of the
guys praised me as they passed, others asking for tips. I stayed back to
help Jackson pick up all the balls and carry the goal post back. We talked
for a little bit about football and his experience with it in Florida.
"I'm a big fan of the English Premier League. I follow it kinda
religiously. It's my favourite sport, but it sucks that it's not big over
here yet. Makes it difficult to really start something up. I used to play
all the time in Florida with my buds and team, but when I left college and
headed into teaching, I played less and had to concentrate on football and
baseball and stuff. I don't mind them, but it's not the same."
I agreed with him as we reached the lock up and stored the equipment
inside. It turned out he supported Arsenal Football Club like me, and had
been lucky enough to travel to London a few years ago to watch them
play. He was about to walk off to the staff room when he turned to me.
"You're really good, you know. I've never seen anyone hit the goal
from that distance in person. I see what Clay meant now."
What? I thought to myself as he rushed off. I headed for the
showers. Some of the guys were still changing after their wash, but most
had gone already, choosing to head home rather than stay and shower. By the
time I hit the showers, there was no one left. The shower room seemed more
like a steam room than anything else, but it felt good against my sore and
bruised body.
Stepping under the hose, I washed away the grass stains and dirt
from my skin and hair, allowing the cleansing water to wash over me. I
soaped up my hands and washed my hair and skin, loving the water
pressure. I moved my hands down my body, feeling my taut abdomen, a bruise
was forming there too. I reached down further and began soaping up my
little guy, running my fingers over the head, shaft and across my balls. I
was fairly big in this department, nothing amazing though, and my balls
hung pretty low. I always liked the way they did that. Before I knew it, I
started getting a little hard from the mild petting. It had been a few days
since I had last gotten off. And there was no one around. I grabbed hold of
my lengthening dick and began stroking slowly, using the water and soap as
lube. I loved jerking off in the shower. It was far more passionate and
tender, the water stimulating every part of your body with every drop of
water.
My back against the wall, the water poured onto my head, face and
chest, running down and coating my dick and balls. I grabbed at my inner
thigh with my left hand, stroking the sensitive inside of my leg and my
balls while my right made love to my erect penis. I closed my eyes, feeling
the pleasure in my dick and the hot water wash over my aching and desperate
body and fell into a state of dream as I jerked away...
My mind went to the same shower room, and I felt my dick being
jerked, only it wasn't my hand. There was too much steam to see who the
hand belonged to, but I felt it there...soft and tender... Lips began
kissing my neck, a tongue licking down and touching my nipples. It was an
incredible feeling... The person moved down further, licking across my
lightly toned abs and belly button, until they reached the base of my
cock. Lips kissed upwards along the shaft...I heard myself moan...I bit my
lip...the lips reached the tip...the tongue grazed it lightly, and I was
swallowed into the awaiting mouth. I moaned deeper, relishing in the
unbelievable feel as my balls were groped gently by my lover.
More and more sucking on my dick...deeper and deeper...slow and
sensuous...tongues dancing over my intoxicated penis...lips softly raking
over the shaft. I could feel myself getting close...my balls tightening and
gut clenching...almost as if in slow motion, I felt my cum slowly erupt as
it travelled up my shaft and explode out of my head into the waiting
mouth. I gasped...moaned...called...cried...pleasure encasing my whole
existence. I felt the mouth swallow my white cream and suck further before
pulling off of me, the water washing over my sensitive head...
Lips moved up my body once more, leaving tracks with every tender
kiss on my skin...abs...chest...nipples...neck...cheek...nose... I could
feel hot breath on my face... Like a magnet, our lips were attracted and
gently embraced one another. A warm, slow, deep, passionate kiss... hands
on my chest and shoulders, lips on mine...tongues making love with one
another... the kiss broke off and I opened my eyes...
Clay's eyes were gazing into mine, a smile on his face. I shook my
head, disbelievingly.
Clay was stood at the entrance of the shower room, watching me. I
couldn't read his expression, the steam had built up a semi-permeable
barrier. Still leaning against the shower, I had one hand on my thigh and
the other on my chest. My dick was at half mast and my face would have
flustered deeper than ever had it not been for the already boiling shower
room.
I quickly moved my hands back to washing my chest and hair, turning
around to face the wall. Clay stepped into the shower, wearing only a
towel. It seemed he hadn't wanted to go home without his shower.
"I thought everyone had gone," I said trying to keep cool.
"I had to go and meet Mrs. James and then I went to grab something
to eat..." I could feel his eyes on me. "And then I headed back for a
shower..."
Clay took up a shower a few spots down from mine.
"I wanna congratulate you." He said, smiling at me. "You were
amazing today."
"Thanks," I blushed. I didn't know what to do. I was still confused
over the face I had seen in my mind. Was it really Clay? Or did I just see
him watching me from the entrance? Was he watching me? Why? How long had he
been there?
"That second goal you scored was fucking incredible." He smiled, his
voice as calm and natural as ever. "I loved the look on Carrick's face when
you did it. Man, that was awesome...never seen Brady so pissed off...I
could have kissed someone..."
I looked at him curiously as he spoke the last part. Kissed someone?
"Why did you ask Jackson to teach soccer? I mean football?" I
corrected myself, trying to change the subject.
"For you." He had stopped washing and just stared at me. I felt
strange, standing there naked with his eyes on me. "I wanted to do
something nice for you. You've had to put up with so much crap from all the
guys...from me. I wanted you to be able to show off...show people you're an
amazing...that you're a talented person." I stopped and faced him. His body
was incredible. He was toned perfectly with perfectly-formed pecs and what
looked like eight-pack abs, all neatly defined. They cut down into the "V"
formation which followed down to his manhood. He looked to be fairly big,
cut, and if I wasn't mistake, a little hard. I hoped he didn't catch me
glancing as I turned away and continued showering. He was still smiling at
me, making my stomach churn.
What is wrong with me? I thought, feeling my own penis stir a
little.
He took a few steps forward. When I noticed his advancement I
froze. I was rooted to the spot, unsure of what was happening.
"You alright, Clay?" I asked, my heart pulsing loudly.
"I dunno..." he said, shaking his head. "I just... I don't know..."
I didn't move. He smiled more broadly than ever and took another
step closer.
"Anyone in here?" Jackson's voice broke the tension and I quickly
came back to life, shutting off the shower and heading for the towel rack.
"I'm in here Jackson!" I called back. "It's Jacob!" I stepped out of
the shower area without another glance at Clay. "Man, I lost track of
time...I was half asleep in there. I didn't even notice Clay was in there
till just now." I said to Jackson who was sorting out some of his stuff.
"CJ? Yo, CJ?! How long you gonna be buddy?"
"Just getting out now too." I heard him turn off his shower as I
dried myself quickly. He stepped out as I pulled on a t-shirt and began
drying my lower half.
"I thought you left ages ago, CJ." Jackson stated.
"Had to go see Mrs. James and I grabbed some food first. Didn't
think it would be a problem...?" he asked shyly. He was red-faced and
couldn't look at me.
"No, you could have taken more time...I just didn't want anyone
leaving the water on and walking out. It's not free you know..." he smirked
softly, realising that there was something amiss. "You fellas weren't
fighting were you? Cos I know there's been some problems recently amongst
some people..."
"No," we said in unison. Perhaps too quickly. Jackson smiled back.
"Convincing," he smiled. "Well, try and keep it civil, ok? I gotta
get going. CJ, lock up will you? You know where the key is." With one last
look at us, he left the room. I had my shorts on and was putting on my
socks and shoes. CJ stood facing me for a while, silently, before pulling
back and heading to his station to get changed.
Grabbing my stuff, I headed for the door. I looked back one more
time at him. He looked embarrassed, staring down at his towel-covered
lap. I didn't know what to make of it. What the hell was that in the
shower? Was he sorry with what happened, whatever that was? What had
happened? Was it because he was interrupted? I sure as hell didn't know
what to think. I don't think I even wanted to know.
"See you, Clay." I walked out.
I was only a few steps into the cool corridor when I heard a loud
bang. Clay, I guessed, had thrown something across the room as I closed the
door. Only just pulling out of the main corridor, I heard him yell.
"FUCK!"
I kept walking, pretending I hadn't heard anything.
Hope you enjoyed that. Especially the tease at the end.
Anyway.
Before I leave you, I wanted to once again recommend:
OPERATION: COLLEGE QUARTERBACK- hot sex scenes and an amazing
storyline with incredible characters. My favourite.
/nifty/gay/college/operation-college-quarterback/
FALLING FOR A STRAIGHT GUY- a great, slow paced story about a
young, very likable guy. I edit this story now.
/nifty/gay/highschool/falling-for-a-straight-guy/
Other stories I have recently come across:
QUARTERBACK WITH THE EMERALD EYES- the longest story I ever read
with on Nifty with constant new storylines to keep you entertained! It will
make you yell out "Oh, God, WHY NOT ME?!" many times! Awesome!
/nifty/gay/highschool/quarterback-with-the-emerald-eyes/
HOUSE PARTY- I just started reading this one today and it's really
good. The characters are some of my favourites.
/nifty/gay/highschool/house-party/
Let me know what you think of them! And my own of course!
Response to mac_manap@msn.com
Personal replies will be sent a.s.a.p.
Thanks again.
H.Mac.