Chapter 7 - Therapeutic Practice

Staring at two different views on your window ledge

Coffee is going cold, it’s like time froze

There you go wishing, floating down our wishing well

Fuck, I love this song. I increase the volume while I step on the gas, after a short while, the light changes to green.

It’s like I’m always causing problems, causing hell

I didn’t mean to put you through this, I can tell

We cannot sweep this under the carpet

I'm moving the fingers to the rhythm at the wheel and humming quietly, yet I don't neglect any of my flanks while driving. The last thing I need to do is crash my truck just after its release from the mechanic's shop because I didn't pay attention.

I hope that I can turn back the time

To make it all alright, all alright for us

I’ll promise to build a new world for us two

“With you in the middle.” I end it softly as I enter the university parking lot.

—New Message ✉ 'Steve’—

@Steve: [Where are you, butterfly? My life is not the same without you ?]

[I just got here. Is Nate with you?]✓✓

@Steve: [We're in the stands. Stop by Maggie's before you come over]

[Am I your butler? >:( ]✓✓

@Steve: [Bring me something, or the bunny dies:

(\(\

( =’:’)

(..(“)(“) ]

[Bunny's bad luck. v( '.' )v]✓✓

@Steve: [Man, really? ಥ_ಥ. Have you no mercy on a cute little bunny? You hurt me, Jas, you hurt me...]

I save my phone with a silly smile on the face, get out of my truck, and make sure I set the alarm before leaving. Several students stare at me, so I adjust my sunglasses, determined to ignore them as I pick up the pace. Mondays are usually the most boring of the week, so they are my favorite. Not many people wander around and I can get a break from the constant pats of congratulation on the back, followed by flattering screams.

I settle my bag over one shoulder and decide in the end to pamper Steve and fatten Maggie up with a new dollar bill. The memory of James struggling with the old dispenser comes back to me like a flash, my whole body reacts, seemingly excited by our first encounter.

Fuck, do I want the little boy with the two-tone eyes? But if it's only been a few days since I met him, I can't be in love, at least not yet, we've barely crossed words. On Saturday, after our lively breakfast and the intense look we exchanged, he left.

That Sunday, Steve and I returned to our respective homes and I haven't heard anything more since. Maybe I should get his number, at least that way I can get to know him better, and determine if it's just an itch that needs to be scratched or something more... More... More what?

“Hey, Jas.” Damn.

“Leyla.” I bow my head briefly, as I always do with her, as I continue cursing my luck.

“You look very handsome today.” Sticks her breast to my chest, I have to restrain myself from pushing her away from me. “And you smell delicious.” Mutters in my ear.

“Thank you.” I place my hands on her shoulders and move her as far away from me as I can.

“Are you going to practice?” Plays with one of the strands of her hair and smiles.

“Like every Monday.” I finish doing the old ritual until I hear the chocolate fall into the machine.

“I was thinking of trying out for cheerleading.” Says cheerfully, and the other three members of her cult whisper behind her back. “That way I could cheer you up better at games, besides...” Pauses as her gaze sweeps across my body. “I'm very flexible.” «How original», I think with irony.

“Congratulations.” I bend over and stick my hand through the slit until my fingers touch the wrapper, pulling it out.

“Tell him, Leyla.” Whispers one of the girls with a chuckle.

“Shut up, Lucy.” Mumbles and then turns to me again. “Jas, there's going to be a party this weekend at my house.” Her finger runs across my chest and I can feel her sharp nail on my skin. “And I want you to be there.”

“I'll consider it.” I answer sharply, and without giving her a chance to delay me any longer, I go on my way.

“I'll be waiting for you!” Shouts in the distance and I roll the eyes.

“What a thrill.” I ironize and sigh of relief when I finally reach the stands.

I make a quick check before moving in the direction of Nate and Steve. All the players are already here waiting for Coach. On Mondays, he has trouble getting out of bed.

“Chocolate!” Steve squeals with excitement when I hand him the candy bar.

“Lower your voice and hide that if you don't want to get into trouble.” Nate hisses, lowering Steve's hand that holds the wrapper still closed to hide it. “You know Coach ordered us to diet, if he sees that, you're screwed.”

“Okay, just a little nibble.” Murmurs as he quickly opens the plastic and takes a small dark square to his mouth. “See? Everything it’s all right.”

“Great, now put it away.” Nate mumbles. “You can eat it later in the cafeteria.”

“Okay, okay.” Steve grunts, but finally obeys, closing the small pocket of his bag after finishing. “How's the truck, Jas?”

“Smooth as silk, bro. Your dad did a beautiful job.”

“He said not to push it for at least a week, just short trips and not accelerating too much.”

“Noted.” I smile. “I crush with Queen Bee and her soldiers of evil on my walk.”

“Shit, did they harass you again?” Nate laughs. “I swear, that girl is unrivaled when it comes to applying pressure.”

“She invited me to a supposed party at her house this weekend. Do you know anything about it?”

“A party?” Steve answers excitedly. “Fuck, Jas, we have to go.”

“Are you kidding? Forget it.” I deny rapidly. “That chick is crazy, she won't leave me alone all night.”

“I know she's a pain in the ass, but her parties are truly amazing.” Comes closer, the emotion is felt from miles away. “Don't you remember last year's? It was absolutely mind-blowing.”

“Was that the one with the huge inflatable shaped like a castle?” I frown.

“Yeah, that's the one!” Steve does short jumps on his ass.

“It was pretty good.” Nate nods slowly, as if recalling the event.

“Come on, bro. We have to go!” Steve holds my shoulders and shakes me several times. “We can't miss this opportunity. Besides, Leyla didn't bother you at that time.”

“Yeah, but last year I wasn't the quarterback.” I sigh with frustration. “You know very well she's been after me like a sugar ant ever since.”

“I'll defend you; I'll be your knight. I won't let her lay one of those sharp claws on your hot piece of ass.”

“Aha.” I ironize, rolling the eyes. “Will we have to go pee together too? No, thanks.”

“Jas! Come on, please.” Joins the hands in pleading. “Please, please, please, please.”

“Fuck, stop it!” I interrupt him when I realize he wants to reply. “I'll think about it, okay? It's Monday, there are four days left.”

“That's good enough for now.” Nods contentedly, then the loud sound of Coach's whistle startle all of us.

“To the dressing rooms, gentlemen!” Pointing the direction with a finger. “Come on, let's go!”

We all stand and head for the dressing rooms trotting. Coach is a tough guy and he doesn't enjoy seeing a hint of discouragement in any player, otherwise, he will make us train twice as hard, with tiny opportunities to rest. It's happened before, one of those times, three passed out from exhaustion, another one threw up his breakfast on the grass. It was disgusting, but since then, we try to stay active and keep our spirits up around him.

I take my uniform out of my bag, now completely clean, and begin to change in silence, staring at my locker. Everyone here knows I'm bisexual, but that doesn't mean that, as the quarterback, I have everyone's respect. Many times, I've had to confront the occasional idiot due to a provocation.

Parker is the worst of them. The asshole is constantly on my back, with homophobic insults disguised as absurd jokes that nobody finds funny or knocking me down on the field for no apparent reason. Coach has fined him several times for this, but he seems to not care.

“I heard Peter's using steroids.” Nate whispers over my shoulder as I complete adjusting my pads.

“Fuck, really?” I grunt in frustration when nods. “Damn, he's gonna have major problems when we get tested next week.”

Every player at the university, no matter what sport is involved, has to give a urine sample to rule out drug use. If what Nate says is true, Peter is going to be in big danger when they discover he's using steroids. Coach hates them, always advising players to eat protein bars to build up mass, along with a strict diet and lots of exercise. Things that, in Peter's wingback position, are the best he can do. Depending on fucking steroids that fry his brain will place him in the worst-case scenario.

“Could it be true that the penis shrinks from using that shit?” Steve whispers from my other side.

“Do you want to try it?” I mock and he laughs.

“No, thanks. I'm not that brave.” We quickly change, everyone carries the helmet under the arms when we first step on the campus lawn. I sigh of relief when the sun is not as strong as last Friday.

“Okay, you know what you have to do, ladies.” Coach blows the whistle hard and we start running. “Lift those legs, Johnson!”

Coach makes us carry the extra weight of the helmet throughout the training, which is understandable, it's not like you can take it off in the middle of the game and risk breaking the neck. After ten of the thirty laps, several are already panting and running slower, especially the new ones.

Sam, with his huge size, doesn't leave my side right at the top of the race, and I think he's doing a good job. The guy is quiet as hell and a bit clumsy, but with the proper preparations, he'll be playing like a pro in no time. With that thought in mind, I speed up, already used to this, so I concentrate on regulating my breathing and using my knees so I don't get exhausted so fast.

In the end, Coach allows us to replenish liquids, making us all take a sip of the energy drink that is usually in a huge thermos on one of the benches. I'm satisfied, Sam managed to handle every lap without any difficulty, and from Coach's appreciative look in his direction, I can tell he feels the same way.

“To the sleds!” Coach Smith yells and all the plastic cups fall around the bench in an unguarded manner as we rush to follow.

I, along with four other players, line up behind a sled, resting on the tips of the feet, with knees bent and hands on the grass. We don't move while waiting for the order from Coach, who has climbed on the sled's support to add more weight.

“Now!” Blows the whistle again.

We all launch at the same time, picking a big impulse with the legs, pushing the sleds hard with the goal of moving it as fast and as far as possible, before Coach tells us to stop. Grunting and heavy panting are heard muffled by the effort, but we don't stop, and neither does Coach, until every muscle in our body is burning and shaking.

“The next ones!” Shouts, and then a new set of players line up in position. I remove my helmet and take off my mouthguard, spitting on the grass the excess saliva that has accumulated in my mouth.

“That was great, Jas.” Nate praises me, punching my arm several times.

“Coach is more demanding today.” Steve grimaces when one of the pushers falls, and now has to endure the endless lecture about the mistake.

“It's normal.” I'm still trying to regulate my restless breathing. “It's because of the game in two weeks, we have to be in shape to deal with the guys from Louisiana.”

“I don't think it's too convenient for Coach to find out about a certain party this weekend then.” Nate shudders. “Our heads will roll if he knows we're going.”

“That's why we won't talk about it again while being here.” Steve decides bluntly.

“I haven't said yet whether I'll go or not.” I roll my eyes. “And if I do...”

I almost bite my tongue when I spot the small image of James, sitting calmly in the stands, watching our training. All the coherent thoughts fly out of my brain as I observe the way he waves in our direction with a shy smile, my hand is in the air too before I can avoid it. Nate and Steve turn to see the reason for my sudden lapse of idiocy.

“Look, Nate. It's little Jimmy.” Steve smiles and raises an arm high, greeting to James, although the gesture is frozen in the air when Coach sees it.

“Thompson!” Steve shrinks in place and grimaces because of Coach's eardrum-shattering scream. “Get your ass over here now!”

“Yes, Coach.” Grunts, but he's quick to comply.

“Gray, you too!”

“Why do I always have to pay for his broken plates?” Nate mumbles, puts on the helmet, and jogs to the practice sleds.

But my glance never abandons the sweet two-eyed boy, my feet move in his way before I can help it. He seems nervous, but at the same time... Excited? I don't know, from this distance I can't be sure. I reach the edge of the stands and he descends a few steps until positions in front of me. He has to duck as the floor of the stands is a few inches above my head.

“Hi, James.” I smile. “I didn't know you were coming, I thought you'd be at the library.”

“I was on my way, but I wanted to stop by here first.” Stares at his hands. “I've never seen Nate train before.”

“I see.” I say slowly, that seems to make him more anxious. “Have you been here long?”

“Just a couple of minutes.” Removes the thick lenses and connects his two-toned gaze to mine. “I thought you'd call me Jimmy, just like Steve.” I approach, without stop looking at him.

“I will... Jimmy.” I affirm lowly, enjoying his lovely shyness.

“Um, you're very good.” Points to the field full of exhausted players. “I saw you pushing that thing.”

“The sled?” Nods.

“You're very strong.” Whispers, and I feel a strange warmth spreading in my chest.

Yeah, it’s good to be flattered, but it’s even better when the compliment comes from someone as shy as he is. I get the impression that he doesn't do it with everyone, and I like that. I like it very much.

“Jimmy, would you give me your phone number?” Opens the mouth and closes it again several times like a fish. A beautiful blush is created on his cheeks, that makes me smile.

“What for?” Replies quietly.

“Because I want to know you more.” I come as close as the edge of the stands allows me, rubbing my fingers on the soft skin of his ankle. “And I have a suspicion that it will be easier for you to talk to me like that.”

“Do you want to know me?” I nod, and shivers when I move my thumb in circles.

“Please?” I pout and he laughs. “I won't tell Nate if you don't want me to.”

“You won't?” For a second, I thought there was disappointment in his eyes, but it goes away so fast I can't be certain. “Yeah, I guess it's better not to.”

“Will you give it to me?”

“Where will you write it down?” Asks with a frown.

“Oh, right. Fuck.” I forgot that my pant has no pockets, I can't go back to the dressing room to pick up my phone.

“How about you give me yours and I'll text you?” Suggests, I watch him with my eyes half-closed.

“I don't know, I don't think you're really going to text me.” Laughs at my insecurity and shakes the head.

“I will, I'll text you at night when I get home.”

“Are you sure?” Nods. “Promise?”

“Yes, I promise.” With a beautiful smile.

“Fine.” I sigh, having doubts, but I still take the notebook that he extends to me, quickly writing down my phone number. “I will be very sad if you don't text me for real.”

“I told you I will.” Grabs the notebook from me and puts it in the backpack. “I have to go now.”

“Santa Claus doesn't like liar kids.” I warn him, trying to appear serious. He laughs and stands.

“I'll do it, I really will. Plus, I'm not a kid.”

“All right.” I arch my eyebrows as he starts walking towards the end of the stands, I follow him from the grass. “Hell is full of lying souls!” I yell when he's almost at the exit.

“I promised!” I laugh when he runs to escape another one of my accusations.

I stand there, watching him leave the campus, hoping to see him cross the wide gates again, until the scream of Coach drags me out of the dream, telling me to go back to practice. I don't realize that, in all that time, James and I were being closely observed.