The Locker Room (5 page)

seems like maybe it"s your story too, you think?”

“That"s the only story you need to know from me, Coach. Can we

go now? Xander needs to eat before he goes to work.”

22

Amy Lane

Coach"s eyes narrowed, and Chris worked hard to keep his

expressive, angel"s face straight. “Where you work, Xander?”

It seemed to be an innocuous question, so Xander and Chris

exchanged glances and Xander answered. “Walmart. I do truck.”

Coach pinched the bridge of his nose then. “Aren"t you fifteen?

Walmart doesn"t take you unless you"re eighteen.”

Xander made a little helpless sound, and Christian let out a sigh,

and Coach tried one more time.

“Okay, boys. Edwards is going to sit down, Xander"s going to eat

another power bar—”

“But, Coach, they make my stomach icky!”

“Xander"s going to eat my sandwich and yogurt leftover from

lunch, and we"re going to start from the top, and if either of you ever

wants to play for me again, you had better clear out the smell of bullshit

in this room with some sweet-smelling truth, you boys hear me?”

They nodded reluctantly and sat down, and Xander got a salami

sandwich on sourdough, while Christian did all the talking.

When he was done, Xander was still cleaning up the strawberry

yogurt, and the Coach looked like he might be getting an ulcer.

“Son,” he said after a moment, and Xander stopped scraping the

yogurt container and looked up.

“Sir?”

“Why didn"t you get help? Man, we"ve got foster services, and

social workers and—”

Xander thought for a moment he was going to get sick.

“Yeah, but… but—” Oh God. “But I"ve got two things, you know?

I"ve got basketball and Chris, and you put me in services and they both

go away!”

And now Coach looked like he might throw up.

“Yeah, boy. I hear you. Okay, change of plan. Kid, we can"t have

you living like that. We just can"t. It"s going to kill you, and you need a

safety net, and that"s just the way it needs to be. Let me make some calls,

okay? At least let"s get you a place to sleep, okay? You"ll probably still

need a job, but I think there"s a halfway house about a mile from here—

The Locker Room

23

sort of place foster kids can go before they turn twenty-one. Let"s see if

we can get you a spot there, okay? It"s going to be tough, and we"re

going to have to finesse it. But I think we can do it.”

Coach looked at Xander with a frightening amount of

understanding in his face. “Basketball and Christian, huh? Well, let"s see

if you can keep "em both, at least until we get you a scholarship and the

hell out of here, okay?”

TWO weeks later, Xander had figured out that if he got up at six, he

could take the bus and be at Chris"s place at six thirty. Chris didn"t

usually leave the house until seven, so Xander huddled on the porch

under his blanket and did reading for English in the early December

chill.

He was interrupted when Chris himself came out, a bag of garbage

in his hand, grumbling something about “Well, if I"d known about it last

night I would have taken it out last… oh shit! Xander!”

Xander scrambled up and shoved the book in his backpack, then

tucked his hands under the armpits of his hooded sweatshirt (so short it

rode up his middle) and turned with Chris to put out the trash.

“Hey,” he said.

“You got here. I didn"t think you would get here—I mean, I"m glad

you got here, but, Jesus, how early did you have to get up?”

Xander shrugged. “It"s easier with sleep.”

The halfway house wasn"t bad. He"d gotten another job doing fast

food, one that let him buy clothes (sort of) and food. He had a bed in a

room with three other boys (his feet stuck over the edge), and no one got

high and no one hit him, and really it was all he could ask. Well, except

for Chris. He could ask for Chris.

“Well, you look cold!” Chris said, dropping the trash in the can. He

gave the can a few yanks until it was out on the curb and then turned and

took Xander"s hands from under his arms and held them, blowing on

them. Xander looked down at his… friend? Boyfriend? The focus of his

life and center of his universe? Christian looked up from warming his

24

Amy Lane

hands and gave a crooked smile. He reached up and tugged on Xander"s

bangs, hanging low over his eyes from the part in the middle.

“You still look tired, Xan,” he said softly, “but I"m glad to see you

here in the morning.”

“Your mom still mad?” Xander asked, and Chris grimaced,

dropping his hands back to Xander"s. Xander turned his over and

engulfed Chris"s in them, and then damned anyone watching in the chilly

pre-dawn and pulled them to his chest.

“She was mostly mad because she was worried, you know,” Chris

told him. “She got that I was trying to help you, but—” He shook his

head. “She just didn"t know how we could have known you for so long

and not known.”

The day Chris"s parents had found out that Xander had been living

on his own for two months, they offered to help him move to his foster

home. Chris and Xander hadn"t been able to talk them out of it, even

though, really, Xander didn"t have any more moving out than he had

moving in. Andi and Jed had taken one step into the apartment. That"s all

it had taken. They had looked around at the couch with the battered

blanket and pillow, the empty bags of their bread on the counter, with

their peanut butter and jelly and plastic knives, and the garbage bags

with Xander"s clothes stacked neatly inside, and Andi had burst into

tears and run out the door. Jed had followed her.

Wordlessly, Chris had cleaned up the leftovers of the food, and

Xander had grabbed his blanket, pillow, and garbage bag full of

possessions, and they had left, figuring the couch would end up on the

curb again, just like they had found it.

It was the last time Chris"s parents had spoken to him.

Xander swallowed. “You think I want the world in my business,

Chris?” He yanked his hands away and looked down. “It"s bad enough I

had to pull you into it, you know? I… if I could make it to school, no one

else had to know. I could live like that. That"s all.”

Chris grabbed his hands and yanked on them, pulling Xander right

up flush against him, and taking them to his mouth again. This time he

didn"t blow on them; he kissed them, tenderly.

The Locker Room

25

Xander"s breath caught. They really were doing this. This was who

they would be. He was so relieved. That one morning, he"d had the taste

of Chris on his tongue, and he"d dreamed of it ever since. Chris must

have heard that little catch in his throat, because he looked up. Xander

had no idea what was in his face—all he knew was that he yearned.

Chris swallowed and moved closer. “Your eyes are the most

intense color,” he whispered. “They"re like… blue, rimmed in black.

You look like an anime character, you know?”

Xander couldn"t talk. Chris"s eyes were still that dark well of

brown. The rest of him was still silver and gold—gold hair, silver skin,

the occasional freckle. That full, soft mouth.

He lowered his head to taste that mouth, and Chris darted his

tongue across his lips. It seemed to demand that Xander say something

before they kissed, and all he had was, “I"m not pretty.”

“You"re beautiful,” Chris breathed against him, and they were too

close to touching lips for Xander to argue.

It was better this time, more sure. Xander slipped his tongue inside

Chris"s mouth this time, and Chris opened for him. Xander wrapped his

arms around Chris"s shoulders and Chris groaned and leaned in, and their

bodies were warm and soft and hard against each other. Chris groaned

and shuddered and pulled away, looking reluctant.

“There"s people from school on this street,” he said quietly. “I"d…

I"d say fuck "em, but—”

“Ball.”

“Yeah, ball.” Chris and basketball. He needed them both. The

coach kept talking scholarship like it was a given, and suddenly Xander

was seeing a life he"d only dreamed of. All those people living in houses,

with lawns, and jobs. College could get him that.
Basketball
could get

him that. It was a bright and shining idea, almost too fantastic to believe.

Walking down the street, holding Chris"s hand, could kill it dead.

Chris knew that. They"d spent a year speculating on college, talking

about going together and working on Xander"s grades. Chris knew how

much it meant to him.

Xander backed up and reached out and ran his thumb across

Chris"s lower lip.

26

Amy Lane

“We"re the only ones who need to know, anyway,” he said,

meaning it. Chris was his best, most personal, most amazing secret. It

was almost like if Xander exposed the two of them to the harsh lights, he

would dissipate into smoke and disappear on the screams of the crowd.

Chris grinned then, whole and undisturbed. “C"mon, Xan, my

mom"s making breakfast this morning. I know she wants to see you.”

He turned and trotted into the house, and Xander followed,

bemused.

They came inside and, sure enough, Xander could smell pancakes.

Andi looked up from the stove and beamed at him.

“Xander! God, honey! I"m so glad to see you. I mean—” She

shook her head and her eyes got too bright. “Jesus, honey. I"m sorry I

took off on you last time. C"mere.” She held out her arms, and Xander

felt compelled to walk into them. Suddenly he was embraced, enfolded,

even though Chris"s mom was only around five foot five inches tall.

“Xander!” Suddenly Jed was there, too, and Xander was embraced

like family. He smiled at them a little, and blushed—hard. His body

felt… hungry. Starving. Almost as faint for touch as it had been for food

the day he and Christian had been forced to give up everything to Coach.

“"S good to see you,” he muttered, uncomfortable and yet savoring

every moment. This was family, he thought in wonder. This was

kindness. He would have to remember this, so that when he was a

grown-up, he could create a home with this in it. He had a sudden vision

of himself and Christian making pancakes and serving breakfast to

Christian"s parents. God, he wanted to have a home with this in it.

He stepped back, feeling awkward, and looked around for Penny.

He"d enjoyed Christian"s little sister over the last year. She was self-

involved (because she was twelve, and that came with the animal, like an

obsession over makeup and the constant feeling of superiority). But she

was also funny, and he"d seen her tutor Christian in math, and she was

patient and tried very hard not to make him feel stupid, even though she

was three years younger and totally got what he didn"t.

“Penny!” Jed called. “Xander"s here!”

“I know, Dad!” came a muffled voice from the bathroom. “I"m

doing my makeup!”

The Locker Room

27

“Geez,” Jed complained good-naturedly. “I thought she"d already

done that. Any more mascara and she"ll look like a raccoon!”

Xander smiled appreciatively, although he didn"t really notice

girls—had, in fact, really only noticed Christian—and Andi sat them

down and started asking questions about his foster home.

Xander answered honestly. He told them about the bed that was too

small, and the three other roommates. He left off that two of the

roommates had noisy sex in the bathrooms, but did tell them that his

belongings were still, as always, all in a plastic garbage bag.

Andi and Jed met eyes, and Andi nodded her head. Jed sighed, and

agreed.

“Look, Xander, when do you turn sixteen?”

Xander had to think about that. When he was a kid he remembered

birthday parties, before his mom and the drugs had become inseparable.

Then he remembered the paperwork that had been filled out for him as

he"d entered the home. “April seventeenth,” he said, hoping that was

right.

“Do you think you"d like to move in with us then? You can be an

emancipated minor—we checked with your coach. Do you think maybe

that would be okay?”

Xander almost jumped on the chance. He did. He looked at Chris,

whose face was shining with hope, and then he licked his lips.

Chris"s taste was still there.

Oh God. He couldn"t… they couldn"t… it would be wrong. It just

would. His face fell, and Chris looked at him in confusion, and he said

softly, “I"ll have to think about it. But it means the world that you"d