Michael Kern was-- is gay. Mitchell, homophobic Mitchell's brother is gay. No wonder. But I never told Mitch my feelings or anything. I didn't even know my feelings until I was fourteen. Oh, geez. Did I act a certain way in middle school? No, I made sure I kept myself quiet. Somehow, Mitch suspected it.

        No. Mitch just didn't like me anymore. He also didn't like his brother, so why not dislike me for the same reason he hated his brother for? Lucky guess; he was partially right.

        "Earth to Brandon," Chris giggles. "Hey, kiddo. Wanna tell me what happened yesterday?" Chris sits on my lap and traces invisible doodles into my palms. Why do people mention things I never want to talk about? I don't know what happened yesterday. I just got pissed. And that's exactly what I tell Christina. I skip the part about me finally smoking the weed James left for me just before he moved.

        "Brandon, come on. I've never seen you act that way. I was scared. You looked like you would cry at any second. Please tell me."

        "Why, cause you're my almost girlfriend?"

        "Don't make it about that. Come on. Do I have to sing Let It Go?" Chris threatens. She actually did that. Yes, I wouldn't tell her something, a minor thing. She belted out Let it Go in the middle of Taco Bell.

        "No. I guess I was just pissed that you were talking to my parents. My dad. He... I don't know. I was just jealous and dumb because he never talks to me unless he's shoving the Catholic faith down my throat or telling me how irresponsible I am." Chris says nothing, indicating I should say more. "And I tried to talk to him for a long time. I'd talk about football when I loved it, but he didn't care. I thought it was because he didn't play sports in high school, but it wasn't that. I'd talk to him about psychology when I started to like that, but everything I'd say he'd tell me he already knew. I could never please him. Then you came in last night and he just, boom. Instant conversation."

        "He seemed very talkative," she says slowly.

        "Well, not with me!" I snap. I gently push Chris off my lap and lay facedown on her bed. "He doesn't like me at all. I never did anything except--" I cut myself off. Except be curious. Chrisina sits beside me and runs her fingers through my hair.

        "You just have this mindset that he won't talk to you, but how long has it been since you tried? Maybe your dad had something going on. Parents get depressed and low, too. Maybe things are different, Babe."

        "Well after this, I have one more year with him and then I'll go to college and then never bother him again."

        "You're being childish. He loves you." I humph as Chris starts to massage my back and shoulders. Ha, the last time he said 'I love you' was when I still played Dragon Ball Z with Mitchell. 

        I sit up and kiss on Christina's neck. She lays back and I slide my fingers up underneath her blue tank top to feel her smooth skin. Before I know it, my shirt is off.

* * *

    I wake up with a start. Christina keeps still beside me.

        Tyler kept trying things I didn't like. Conner's words ring through my head. It could be anything, though. Like, if Conner doesn't like sex with the lights on. Or if he doesn't like it with socks on. It doesn't have to be anything bad. 

        The way he said it though. The way he looked at himself when he said it, like it disturbed him, or scared him. The way he literally had to shake himself away from the thought.

        I guess Chris did notice my startle. She interlaces her fingers in mine. It's funny to think that we wouldn't be together if she'd been stupid enough to resist introducing herself to me. This thought makes me smile. I thought she was so nosy at first.

        "You alright?" she whispers. I squeeze her hand gently. "You have practice tomorrow morning. You should go home to sleep. It's about nine." I kiss her forehead before I gather my clothing and leave. 

        I walk into my house with no intention of talking to my mom. But of course, she stops me before I can escape to my room. Everything in there is a shade of blue. It's relaxing. We sit on the couch.

        "Wanna tell me about yesterday?" she asks. She hands me a small glass of wine. My mother is a great parent. So don't you dare say she's doing anything wrong.

        "You like Christina?" I ask. She nods. "Good." Mom nudges me. "Dad likes her too. Bonus. I've finally met his approval for something."

        "This again? Sweetie, you never talk to him anymore. He even asked me what you were doing lately. He cares, Brandon. I promise." I take a sip of my wine. 

        "Mom, I'm different," I sigh. "I've got feelings I can't shake."

        "I know. But that's because you're smart. You're also talented. And you're a psychologist," she nods. So much for that. Nope, the 'I had sex with a boy' talk definitely won't occur until I'm at least in college. Maybe graduated from college. "Were you mad because your dad was talking to your girlfriend?"

        "What do you think, mother dearest? Mom, we've talked about dad millions of times. I'm just really worn out right now. Can I go to bed?" She kisses my cheek.

        "You get some rest. And think about what you need to do about the football situation. I love you," she smiles. 

        "I love you, too."

        I wake up too early, at least an hour before my alarm. I hop in the shower, try not to think of Conner's sweet memory, and hop back in the bed for a few before I head to practice. When I get there, I can tell it's already tense.

        "Derek is sitting today," Matt whispers to me.

        "That's a Furst," I joke. "Maybe he should stop worrying about his girlfriend and focus, huh?" Matt chuckles a little. "Hey, Matt. Would you ever consider quitting this crap? Football."

        "First you ask why Michael quit baseball, and now you're asking this. You planning on doing some stupid shit before playoffs?" Matt asks.

        "Nah. Just wondering. Think Troy is in a good mood today?"

        "You can't use the word 'good' to describe anything about Troy. You know this," Matt laughs before putting on his helmet. I watch Conner eye him from a few feet away. I scoff to myself. What am I doing worrying about Conner? Old news.

        After a slightly less than shitty practice, Christina comes to pick me up in her tiny little pink bug. I give her a sweaty spin around hug before chucking my football gear in my truck. Mitchell eyes us angrily. Our little prank got him good. Now he knows how it feels. He's usually the mischievous and immature one.

        Chris is great. She really is. As we prepare for the first game, she's always right there by my side. But there's something that's blocking us. Could be the fact that we're not actually dating, or it could be the fact that I keep checking out Derek Furst like it's my job. I remember when he moved here. Blonde kids in my school are such a rarity. I can name all the blonde kids in high school on less than two whole hands. 

        I go into the first game with all the energy sucked out of me. I said to myself that I wouldn't quit, though, and quitting doesn't mean just the team. I can't quit my attitude, either.

        Conner starts our first playoff game. I want to hug him and tell him how proud I am of him. I want to kiss his adorable freckled nose and pink lips and say that I know how much he wanted the spot. But I can't. Things don't and can't work that way.

        "Don't eff this up, Freshman," Marshall says once we run onto the field. Conner nods. I find myself actually getting excited for the game. We should crush this team, but their running back can catch literally anything. Hurl a football from a hot air balloon in the snow and their running back will be right there.

        Derek has to go in at the end of the game to run a trick play with Cill, which wins us the game. Okay, so we'll play next week.

         I claim my usual spot on the bus. People may disrespect me, but they don't dare take my bus seat. Cill and Derek sit behind me. Marshall of course sit in front of me, but Mitchell sits beside Conner in the seat across from me. Really. They're going to start shit on the bus.

        "So, Freshman," Mitch begins once the bus starts moving. "you're butt buddies with Gay Boy here, right?" I don't hear Conner's response. "No? Why not?" I let Mitch quiz Conner on our non-friendship until he asks about my sexuality. I lean over, setting one hand on his leg.

        "If you really want to know about that, you can just ask me yourself, Mitchell," I purr into his ear. He stiffs up and doesn't say a word. I don't think Conner would snitch, but his social skills are lacking. Sitting back in my own seat, I call Christina. She doesn't pick up. I sigh and recline to go to sleep until I hear kissing noises behind me. Freaking Cill and Derek.