Something Like Rain (Something Like... Book 8) (3 page)

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Authors: Jay Bell

Tags: #Gay Romance

BOOK: Something Like Rain (Something Like... Book 8)
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“You know what your brother would do,” Lewis said as if reading his mind.

No need to ask which one he meant. Spencer the Marine. “He’d get the guy in a headlock,” William answered, “hold him there, and tell him he didn’t want to fight.”

Lewis barked laughter. “Exactly! How’d you know?”

“Because he did the same thing to me whenever I talked back to him.” William smiled at the memory. His brother had been gentle most of the time.

“We saved so much money on babysitters, you have no idea. Spencer is a born leader.” Lewis gestured at him with the apple. “You are too. You just have to believe in yourself.”

And get punched around by some angry guy at school. William still didn’t like the idea, so he tried changing the subject. “Why are you home already?”

“Don’t concern yourself with my business.”

“I’m just surprised. You always work late these days.”

Lewis studied him. “I won’t tell Mom if you don’t.”

William perked up. “Really?”

“Sure. If the school calls, I’ll tell them I picked you up for—I don’t know—a doctor’s appointment. But you need to take care of this bully situation. Understood?”

William swallowed, and although it was a promise he didn’t want to make, he nodded. “Okay.”

* * * * *

William paced his bedroom, unable to enjoy his free time. Instead he thought of Kelly, trying to work up the courage to drive back to school. If he went now,
right now
, he would get there in time to fight. But would Kelly be waiting for him, or that Jared guy, or maybe even both? That made him stop in his tracks. What his father had said made sense. William needed to prove he wasn’t an easy target, but if that meant getting beat up by two guys at once…

He clenched his jaw, wondering what he had done to deserve this. Entered a triathlon? Fun had been his only motivation. And to keep busy. His lawn-mowing business didn’t occupy as much of his time as it used to, which wasn’t good for his mental well-being. The busier he kept himself, the less he worried about other issues, such as girls who wanted more from him or what he wanted from guys. Not having time for either was a good excuse and a helpful distraction. Except now, entering into a simple race had made him a target. Why? Were all the other entrants facing similar scare tactics? Perhaps that’s all this was, a couple of guys trying to frighten away the competition.

William blinked. Maybe there was another way to prove he wasn’t a pushover. He went to the dresser, stripped off his clothes and put on an old T-shirt and athletic shorts. They wanted to keep him from competing? Both Kelly and Jared had bragged about how fast they could run. A triathlon wasn’t about speed. Endurance was key, and William had been training tirelessly to make sure he had plenty of that. He flung open a drawer full of letters and knickknacks he had kept over the years. This included a number of medals and ribbons. William might not swagger around the school picking fights, but he was still an accomplished athlete. He gathered these up, spreading them on the dresser’s top. Then he grabbed his phone and texted Holly, who prided herself on knowing everything about everyone. Being friends with a hopeless gossip could be useful at times.

Kelly and Jared,
he texted.
I think they might be on the cross country team. Ever heard of them?

He had to wait longer than usual, picturing Holly covertly poking at her phone while in class.

Yup! You fight Kelly after school, right? In the parking lot?

William grimaced. News sure traveled fast.

I won’t be in the parking lot. I’ll be on the track. Can you give one of them the message?

Okay. I’m scared!

Don’t be.

That sure made him appear confident! If only he could face this conflict using text messages instead of fists. Still, his plan wasn’t bad. It might even work. William left his room, grabbing a towel and a bottle of water before he went to his car. He cranked up the music on his car stereo to maintain the illusion of confidence during the drive back to school. Parking in the east lot as he always did, he marched across the campus, ignoring the bell and the students who poured out of the buildings. When he reached his destination, he put the towel and bottle on the bleachers, then did the minimum stretching exercises before heading to the track. He wanted to be in motion before the first people showed up. William managed to run a full lap before anyone did. Holly, Lily, and Abby. Other students were with them, no doubt having heard the news. Jared and Kelly didn’t arrive until his second lap. Kelly sat in the bleachers. Jared remained standing. William ignored them and focused on running. Another lap. And another.

Already he was feeling the pain. As intensely as he exercised when he swam, he knew the water provided a softer environment and minimal impact. Here William’s feet collided with a hard surface every step, the vibrations jarring the muscles and bones in his legs. He focused on maintaining a steady rhythm as long as he could. Already many of his peers had gotten bored and wandered away. Kelly and Jared remained stationary. They didn’t rush out to meet him, or try to tackle him to stop him from running. In fact, when he risked a few sly glances in their direction, he saw Jared looking distraught. Kelly, on the other hand, remained disarmingly cool, his narrowed eyes tracking William’s progress. He didn’t seem braced for action. There wouldn’t be a fight today. The spectators had decided as much too, everyone except William’s friends having left.

Time to prove he wasn’t an easy target. William slowed to a walk, then headed directly to the bleachers where he had left his things. Kelly was standing now. Despite how nervous this made William, he did his best not to acknowledge either guy, pretending they were of no consequence. He drank from his bottle, looking their way only once to make sure they wouldn’t attack. Jared was frowning, Kelly glaring, but they hadn’t moved. William threw the towel over his shoulder, then walked away, joining his friends.

Lily was the first to speak. “What exactly just happened?”

William shrugged. “I guess they weren’t in the mood for a fight.”

“Who can blame them?” Holly said, taking his arm. She pulled away as if burned. “Ew! You’re soaking wet!”

“Gosh, I wonder why,” Abby murmured. Then she added, “I’m glad there wasn’t a fight.”

“I wouldn’t have minded seeing them get their asses kicked,” Lily said, “but that was an impressive display.”

“Super cool!” Holly agreed.

Abby nodded. “I don’t think they’ll mess with you again.”

William would have sighed in relief if he hadn’t been panting. Hopefully his friend was right and this whole mess was finally over.

* * * * *

William reclined in his bed, watching the television across the room. Currently he was tuned to Cartoon Network. After his demonstration at the track, he had taken a shower, which was pointless since a client needed her yard raked and bagged. He hurried to finish the job in the dwindling sunlight, and by the time he made it home for dinner, he was seriously exhausted. Now sleep was calling to him as he stared almost unseeing at the bizarre programs of
Adult Swim
. He was too tired to think, the events of the day forgotten. At least until his mother knocked on the door, entered the room, and brought it all up again.

“Your father told me what happened,” Kate said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

William felt betrayed. His father had promised to keep it a secret! Kind of. William lifted the remote to mute the television and didn’t say anything.

“I’m so sorry you were bullied,” his mother continued.

Okay. So far she didn’t seem angry that he had skipped class. Maybe his father had kept that part quiet. “It wasn’t so bad,” he said. “It’s not like I got hurt.”

Kate pursed her lips together. “Your father also shared the advice he gave you. If you believe fighting with this boy will help matters, think again!” She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately. First that stupid car—”

“It
is
kind of cool,” William said. “I’d love to have one like it. Dad probably felt the same way when he was my age. Now he can actually afford it.”

“That’s debatable, and what you’re describing is called a midlife crisis, which is nothing to be proud of. Or act upon. You let us worry about that. Tell me what happened at school.”

“Nothing,” William said. “Just an argument, really. It’s not a big deal.”

His mother didn’t seem convinced. She always saw right through him. “Have you tried making friends with this boy?”

Was she serious? Probably. Kate was a kind person and had tried to instill that virtue in him too. The older he got, the harder this became, because the world wasn’t always nice in return. Still, she managed somehow. He liked the idea of making friends with his enemies more than punching and getting hit in return. “How?”

“Try talking to him once things have calmed down. It sounds to me like you two had a misunderstanding.”

“I don’t think there’s any reasoning with him. Believe me, this guy is disturbed.”

His mother patted his hand. “More often than not, people like him have their own issues. He could probably use a friend. Show him what a good person you are, and I’m sure everything will be okay.”

William adored her optimism. Not that it mattered. The situation had mostly blown over, but his mother still appeared concerned, so he said, “I’ll try.”

“That’s my boy. Man! You aren’t a boy anymore.” This didn’t stop her from leaning over to kiss his forehead. She looked back when leaving the room, eyes shining with affection before she shut the door, William already determined not to disappoint her.

* * * * *

William woke up with a severe case of leg pain and couldn’t have felt happier. For the past year, he had been pushing himself physically, and while that had been grueling at first, his muscles had eventually adjusted. Occasionally he got a little sore, but this was more like the first week of swimming every morning. Running had targeted muscles that he hadn’t worked as hard. After his standard four-egg omelet for breakfast, he headed to the YMCA. Swimming laps helped work loose the kinks in his muscles and chased away most of the pain. He still felt a mild burn when rising from his desk at the end of every class, but he took this as an invitation—a challenge—to return to the track after school and push himself further.

That’s exactly what he did. Part of him worried that Kelly and Jared would be looking for him there, perhaps with a strategy in mind this time. Then again, nobody at school was talking about yesterday. Not only did news travel fast, but it also grew stale quickly. William’s little confrontation was no longer of interest. After sixth period, he found himself trapped in a conversation with Holly when all he wanted was to focus on moving his body. Eventually he made a polite excuse, went to the locker room, and changed into running clothes. William was walking to the track when he noticed Kelly approaching from the opposite direction.

Even from a distance, William could see he was bristling with anger. His posture was wide, fists balled. Kelly stomped across the grass like he was heading for a duel. William started to tense. Then he noticed Kelly’s eyes. They were watery. Red. Had he been crying? Hard to imagine, considering how twisted up his expression was. He definitely looked pissed. Even odder was how soaked his clothes were. Kelly’s burgundy dress shirt was wet and clung to his body. Sweat dripped down the side of his face and sparkled in his hair. The tan pants weren’t ideal for running either, nor were the fashionable shoes. Maybe he wasn’t on the track team after all. Otherwise he would have worn more appropriate clothing before running, and William was sure that’s what he’d been doing, because his chest was still heaving.

As they passed each other, Kelly eyed him briefly, continuing his march forward. William turned around to watch him, puzzled but also relieved. Kelly clearly had his own problems, and they no longer seemed to involve William.

Not needing to prove a point today, William took his time stretching and allowed himself a slower pace. His sore legs protested, but once they had warmed up, the pain wasn’t so bad. On his third lap he was surprised to see that Kelly had returned. He was seated in the bleachers, watching him run, but he was no longer glaring. William might not enjoy conflict or fighting, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t competitive. With an audience present, he picked up the pace, trying to show that he could run just as well as he could swim. Except that wasn’t true. Once again his body felt too heavy, bogged down by gravity. His feet were really starting to hurt! He stopped before he injured himself and tried to catch his breath. When he glanced over at the bleachers, Kelly was in the same place, except no longer watching. Instead he was leaning forward, elbows on his knees as he stared at his feet. Okay, so he wasn’t impressed. Or maybe Kelly was just
de
pressed. He thought of his mother’s words and wondered if she was right. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to. Only one way to find out.

William walked over to the bleachers, choosing a question he hoped would lead to conversation. “Any pointers?”

Kelly looked up in surprise. Then those brown eyes traveled over him briefly. “Go home and watch YouTube.”

So much for his mother’s theory. “Funny,” William said. He clenched his jaw and pivoted, intending to walk away, but the earnest tone in Kelly’s voice stopped him.

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