Unnecessary Roughness (23 page)

Right before they sat down, Kyle noticed the glowers change to passive faces. The sound of Coach Bank’s voice came next.

Oh, I get it.
Kyle realized their tolerance was an act for the head coach.
Nice
.

Connor sat by the window as Kyle dropped down heavily next to him.

“All right, you guys.” Coach Banks stood at the front by the driver, who was now behind the wheel. “Second game of the season, but don’t underestimate how important it is to win. We have to beat UC. Got it?”

A cheer rose up from the men.

With a hiss, the bus doors closed and the engine grew louder as they left the parking lot. Kyle glanced down as his hand was clasped. He looked across the aisle at another teammate and caught Dick Lang’s sneer.

Defiantly, Kyle held Connor’s hand in both of his as they stared out of the window at the storefronts on Sunset Boulevard.

Connor knew Kyle was acting like a bodyguard. They brushed shoulders while they walked to the visiting team’s locker room.

The acoustics were terrible as the noise of shouting, rough-housing, and echoing footfalls masked the conversations around him. Connor felt that ice ball in his gut again. It was as if something was going on he wasn’t aware of. He felt ignorant to a secret that was known to everyone but he and Kyle. What was it? Gossip? Probably.

Dick Lang raced by, slamming into Kyle as he did. Connor exchanged looks with Kyle. Connor had no idea if it was intentional or not. Dick didn’t peer back and gloat, so Connor assumed it was accidental.

Kyle dropped his bag in front of a locker and opened it, toeing off his tennis shoes and flipping them into the bottom.

The noise hadn’t let up. Over the din Connor thought he heard yelling to hurry up and get dressed.

“Jesus,” Kyle said.

Connor looked at Kyle to see why he had said that word.

Kyle rolled his eyes and gestured to Donald who had chosen a locker across from them, identical to the way his was situated at their own locker room. “He does like to stare at your ass, Connor.”

Before Connor yanked down his shorts he studied Donald’s actions. Donald turned away quickly.

“At least he isn’t taking pot shots at me on the field.” Connor removed his lower half of garments and tossed it into the locker. “I’d rather have my ass admired than whacked with a lacrosse stick.”

“Good point.”

Connor drew his jockstrap up his legs and felt Donald’s gaze. He spun around quickly and caught him ogling. “Hey, Don! Enjoying the view?”

Kyle appeared nervous and bit his lip.

Donald ignored the comment and gave Connor his back as he finished dressing.

“Don’t antagonize anyone. It’s bad enough.” Kyle tugged his t-shirt over his head and removed his shoulder pads from his bag.

“What’s bad enough?” Connor adjusted his cup and put his uniform shorts on over it.

“You didn’t notice anything on the bus?” Kyle faced his locker as he continued getting ready.

“I felt something, but I didn’t see anything. What did you see?”

“Sneers. I think they’re behaving normally because of Coach Banks. The minute he’s in the area they straighten out their expressions.”

“You think Coach is punishing them? Ya know, doing something to the guys who are homophobes?”

“I don’t know.” Kyle glanced back at Donald.

Connor sat on the bench to put on his socks and shoes. “Well, it’s not just me then.”

“Nope. Something’s going on.”

After a brief warm up, the team gathered on the field. Connor tried to pump them up for the beginning of the game. But his enthusiasm fell flat. Coach Banks was busy on the sideline with the opposing team’s coach and referees, discussing procedure and exchanging rosters.

Connor made a frustrated face at Kyle and Kyle shrugged in reply.

Kevin began barking like a drill sergeant, creating the energy the group needed to get their testosterone surging. Suddenly the noise of cheers and grunting was intense.

Okay. Whatever works
. Connor was trying not to take the reactions personally. The key was to win.

“Now let’s go get those nasty queers!”

Connor choked and met Kyle’s gaping expression.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Connor asked the same junior who had body-slammed Kyle in the hall. Dick Lang.

A chant overtook Connor’s protest. It appeared the rallying cry was supposed to be for their benefit and to battle the opponent. Either way, Connor didn’t care for the tactic.

Connor caught Kyle looking back at the sideline.

Coach Banks was on his way over. Denny intercepted him before he ever made it to their huddle.

The group broke ranks and jogged either to their field position or the bench.

Connor met Kyle and walked slowly to their side of the field. “Did I just hear what I think I heard?”

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Kyle shook his head.

“They weren’t talking about us, right? They meant UC?”

“I think it was meant for us to get psyched, but no doubt it had a double-meaning.”

“What the fuck! What the fuck!” Connor was about to kill someone. He almost smashed his crosse into the ground to snap it when Kyle grabbed his shoulder. “Look.”

Connor followed the direction he was indicating. The junior that had uttered the nasty cheer was in front of Coach Banks on the ground, doing pushups.

“Let me guess. Denny overheard Dick’s sick rally and told Coach Banks.” Connor stopped in his tracks. “He’s punishing them.”

“Yup.”

“That’s what’s going on behind our backs, Kyle. Coach is trying to keep them in line.”

“And we’re to blame.”

“Are we? Because we’re gay?”

“Because we came out. We’re an embarrassment to the team. We castrated them.” Kyle scanned the field. “I think macho-jocks aren’t afraid of fairies.”

Connor looked at his team. The scowls aimed at them at the meted out punishment were intimidating.

“I can’t do this, Kyle. I’m going to quit.”

“No.” Kyle faced him.

“Yes. It’s too much anyway with the credit load. I can’t get all my work done.”

“Don’t make a quick decision. Think about it.”

“It’s all I have done.” Connor heard a whistle blowing and hurried to his place on the field.

Chapter Fourteen

Kyle didn’t like losing. But it was hard for him and Connor to play with any real zeal when they knew what their teammates felt about them.

There were no illegal checks, no crosse between the legs, nothing. They were left alone, ignored, not given the ball to pass or shoot at the goal, and denied the pleasure of participating.

Though Kyle watched Connor start the game with the idea of going for it and winning, as the game progressed and the passing game excluded them, he noticed Connor moving on the field less and less. He couldn’t blame him. He did the same.

Did the coaches notice? They had to. Could they force the team to behave in a certain way? No. Coach Banks could stamp, yell, point fingers, add extra laps or pushups to their routines, but he could not stop ignorance.

As Kyle undressed he felt more spent mentally than physically. It was psychological warfare.

“Thank fuck.”

“What?” Kyle asked Connor who was nearly naked standing next to him.

“Separate shower stalls.”

“Good.” Kyle agreed.

Connor walked off with his towel.

Kyle sat slumped over, resting his chin in his hands.
He’s right. I can’t do this anymore either.

When Kyle prepared to stand up and head to the shower, he realized he was surrounded by hostile teammates.

“The freak with the long hair we expected to be a fag.”

“Shut up, Kevin.” Kyle stood tall, his back to the locker.

“But you’re worse!” Dick curled his lip in disgust. “You pretend to be like us.”

“Nasty cock-sucker,” Joe snarled.

Kyle was stunned. He knew there were some guys who would shun him, but this? “What the hell does it matter to any of you what I do in my private life? It’s my choice.”

Frank Valley pushed him.

Kyle hit the locker behind him and raised his hands in defense.

“We lost because of you queers! The other team isn’t going to be intimidated by a bunch of limp-wristed fags!”

“Shut up!” Kyle said, “That’s bullshit, Kevin, and you know it.”

“We want you and that long-haired queer-bait off the team!”

“Or?” Kyle puffed up his chest.

The group drew closer. There was no way Kyle could defend himself against six athletes.

“What?” he asked, “You’ll beat me up?”

Kevin poked his finger into Kyle’s chest. “We want you both off the team.”

Kyle swatted Kevin’s hand aside. “You can’t tell us what to do.”

Dick went for Kyle’s throat. Kyle hit the metal lockers with a loud thud and began fighting back.

“Coach Banks!” someone hissed.

Kyle was released and the crowd dispersed. He labored to catch his breath and caught the warning glares as they vanished.

The coach walked by, apparently not noticing anything amiss.

Connor appeared. His hair was wet and he had a towel around his hips. “Hey. What are you waiting for? Go shower.”

Kyle grabbed his towel.

Connor held him back. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll tell you later.” Kyle kept moving, wary of everyone around him. He had a room full of enemies. Something he never anticipated when he joined the team.

I came out. That’s why it’s different here than in Oregon
. Kyle trembled as he entered the shower stall. Maybe Connor was right and they needed to quit.

The tension on the bus ride home was making Connor feel ill again. They were given a lecture on their lousy performance, a warning on rigorous training regimes and workouts in the gym, and finally a pep talk.

It didn’t matter. Connor was done. “Ya can’t fight city hall.”

“Huh?” Kyle leaned closer to hear.

“Nothing.” Connor found Kyle’s hand and held it on his lap until they had ended their journey.

They stood in the aisle when the bus parked in the school lot. The group moved slowly as exhaustion set in and the afternoon waned. Coach Banks was watching them debark, so everyone behaved.

Connor waited as their gear was unloaded, grabbing his bag when it hit the blacktop. The moment Kyle fell in beside him, Connor walked to the locker room to dump his equipment.

“You’re right. We need to quit.”

Connor turned to look at Kyle. Kyle was making sure they weren’t overheard. “What happened earlier in the UC locker room?”

“They cornered me. I’ll tell you on the drive home.”

“Cornered you?” Connor didn’t like the sound of that. Avoiding eye contact from anyone but Kyle, Connor dropped his dirty uniform in the laundry and tucked his pads, gloves, shoes, and helmet into his locker. He held the MG keys in his palm and left the building with Kyle. The minute he unlocked his door and was behind the wheel, he asked, “Cornered you how?”

Kyle released a deep exhale and replied, “That group of skinhead-types; Kevin, Dick, Frank…they told me to quit the team. They were very serious, Connor.”

At first Connor grew angry, then it vanished. “Let’s quit.” He started the car and pulled out of the lot.

“I hate giving up or being intimidated by homophobic bullies.”

“I don’t like it either, but they outnumber us and I can’t stand hiding behind Coach Banks.”

Kyle punched the car door and slouched in the seat.

“Look, it’s just lacrosse. It’s no big deal.” Connor rubbed Kyle’s thigh.

“I’ve played it since I was a soph in high school.”

“Yeah. Me too. Big shit. You didn’t have any aspirations to play beyond college, did you?”

“No.”

Connor stopped at a traffic light. “Me neither. So? Do you give a shit? The team sucks. We wouldn’t make it to the championships at this rate. That means no trophy, nothing. Are you willing to keep putting up with this crap for a load of horseshit?”

Kyle rubbed his face. He looked exhausted.

“Kyle?”

“No.”

“Then we’re done.” Connor squeezed his leg.

Kyle gripped his own hand over the top of Connor’s and stared out of the windshield.

As Connor climbed the staircase behind Kyle he turned his cell phone on to see if he missed any calls. Several text messages were waiting to be read, but he listened to his mother’s voice message first.

“Hello, Connor. Your father and I were wondering if you were okay. Are you coming for dinner next time? You seem to be staying for shorter and shorter visits. We hope to see you soon, Connor. Bye.”

Connor walked into the apartment, following Kyle. He shut the door behind him. He disconnected the voicemail and began going through his text messages. “Here we go.”

“What?” Kyle stood in the kitchen drinking orange juice from a quart container.

Connor read, “Fuck you, fag, quit the team or else.”

Kyle’s expression dropped. “Who’s it from?”

“No idea. It was sent from a campus computer. It’s just got an ID number and some weird fake name. Want me to read them? There’s more.”

“No.” Kyle put the juice back into the refrigerator and dropped onto the tattered sofa, picking up a textbook from the floor.

Connor deleted the text messages, shut off his phone, and sat next to Kyle. “We’re like lepers.”

“They need to evolve. It’s fricken’ LA.” Kyle flipped pages of the book angrily.

“No one is evolved as far as collegiate sports are concerned. I suppose we haven’t crossed that barrier yet.”

“Why not?” Kyle appeared furious.

Connor hated seeing him so upset. “Forget it. Let’s change the topic. I’m sick of it.”

Kyle slumped lower on the couch and stared at the printed pages on his lap.

By his expression, Connor knew Kyle wasn’t actually reading. He didn’t know how Kyle could concentrate at all being so preoccupied. Connor slid off the sofa and knelt between Kyle’s knees. Kyle peeked at him.

Connor nudged Kyle’s legs wider apart. He ran his hands down the inseams of Kyle’s jeans to his crotch and massaged his imposing bulge. Kyle’s head dropped to the back of the couch and he closed his eyes.