My Goal

by H J Perry

  But Harry's sexuality wasn't nothing. It wasn't as if he had no interest. He definitely had the interest.

  Scott put his right hand in his pocket and dug around until he pulled out a small pile of change. "If I toss a coin, it has an even chance of landing heads or tails, right? Suppose I've already thrown it five times and every time it landed on heads. It can happen. I'm about to toss again, what do you bet on and why?"

  "Heads, because I think it is a dodgy coin."

  Scott threw his head back and let out a laugh. He sat down on the sofa with a shimmy. Always so graceful, he moved as if he danced everywhere.

  "You have to be different. Most people say tails is more likely after having heads three times, never mind five. But you're saying heads is more likely. Are you sticking with that answer?"

  "Yes."

  "Either is wrong. No matter how many times you throw heads in the past, each toss is a unique event with a fifty-fifty chance of turning up either side."

  "I get what you're saying there. But I don't know how it will help me not lose every single bet."

  "Another example." Scott raised his hands, palms toward Harry. "In my class at school, there were twelve kids."

  "Really? Just twelve?" Harry wrinkled his brow.

  "Yes. You know my parents paid for my education. I've told you before that I went to a private school." Scott nodded. "But that's not the point."

  "Yes. Sorry. I remember. But twelve! My classes were always thirty-something. No wonder I don't get math."

  "Out of twelve kids who randomly turned up at this school, do you think our birthdays were spread over twelve months?" He was animated as he spoke, clear skin and shining eyes with a liberated enthusiasm for life and learning. Scott seemed so unshackled in a way that Harry never felt, except perhaps when he forgot everything else on the football pitch and ran after that ball like it was what he was born to do.

  "I think I see where this is going."

  "If I said eight out of the twelve had birthdays in just two months of the year, would you think that was random?"

  "No, of course that's not random."

  "Harry, it is random. What do you think is random?"

  "Spread out through the year, of course." Harry just knew the obvious answer was going to be wrong, which is why he lost his shirt on every bet he made with his teammates.

  "If our birthdays were spread out evenly through the year, that wouldn't be random, that would be a pattern."

  "I don't understand. What is this trickery?"

  "I know you don't get it." There was a pitying look on Scott's face. "There are math formulas for predicting probability, but for gambling purposes you are best off only betting what you are willing to lose, and expect to lose unless you know the answer for certain. And believe me, random is not quite what you think it's going to be."

  Harry had never met anyone like Scott. He was totally unique, a blend of feminine and masculine; and so different than football players. He could appear frivolous, but in conversation, his warm spirit and massive intellect soon showed. Harry could understand why Jason loved Scott; Harry loved him too, as a friend.

  Scott was perfect best-friend material, not the kind of guy Harry wanted as a boyfriend.

  Harry didn't want what he'd never had. He was certain homosexuality was the route to losing his family, his career, and many of his friends. He'd learned that through his church. Harry did all he could to suppress his urges and emotions. It was a battle he was sure he couldn't win.

  "Are you trying to tell me there's no formula for gambling?"

  "There's no easy formula unless you have some extra information. But a lot of people make the mistake of thinking random means spread out evenly."

  "Cheers," said Harry. "I hoped talking to a math geek about gambling would help me win."

  Scott grinned. "Applying math to gambling is a bit of a specialist field and still no guarantee of easy money, or else we'd all be doing it."

  "I spent a load of my life traveling and sleeping in hotels with a bunch of young guys who've got far too much money. You know what we do to pass the time? Gamble. Gambling isn't compulsory, but you have no idea how many hours of boredom we have to endure. We bet on all sorts of shit. It's a bit of fun to pass the time, and it all gets quite ridiculous, but I don't think I've ever won. Not ever."

  "Even if I explain the formula, P equals N over N, you'd still lose your money. That's my point."

  Harry got up and walked to his fridge in the small kitchen area of his large open-plan living room. He pulled out a couple of beers, removed the bottle caps, and took them back to the sofa area. Scott was still nursing his first beer, so Harry put the second on the table.

  "So how's the new guy at work?"

  "Which one? There are a few. It's that time of year. Transfer season just ended on the first of September."

  "Jason told me there was a new guy. Someone Spanish. I know he likes having someone he can speak to in Spanish."

  "Yeah, Garcia. He's a great player and we're lucky to have him. He was on the winning team in Europe and played in the World Cup final a few years back, again, for the winning team."

  Scott raised his eyes. "Sounds impressive."

  "His parents are Spanish, so he plays for Spain as his national team. He's lived here most of his life. But when it comes to league matches, he's always played for teams here in the English Premier League. I played one or two youth matches with him many years ago." Harry was keen to change the subject away from the new player. "So, what time are you expecting Jason home tonight?"

  "Late. I don't know. He's gonna call me when he is on his way, but he's got to get back from London. I've got a load of stuff to prepare for college, but I'm still in summer holiday mode at the moment. It'll be hard to start concentrating again when I'd much rather come around here, hang out with friends, and drink beer." Scott placed his empty bottle on the table and picked up the full one. He looked thoughtfully at the label for a moment, then added, "Or go dancing. You should come dancing, Harry."

  "Football players don't dance," said Harry. "You should know that by now."

  "I think the saying is, 'straight boys don't dance,' but it doesn't have to be true."

  Scott looked at Harry as if daring him to confirm or deny his sexuality. Harry had an uncomfortable feeling that Scott suspected, and over the months he'd given Harry plenty of opportunity to speak up, but he'd never pushed the issue.

  The sudden knock at the door made Harry jump. Saved.

  "I'm not expecting anyone." Harry stood up and walked through the double doors into the entrance vestibule.

  "We can safely say the statistics lesson is over for today," Scott replied before Harry reached the door.

  Harry opened the door and stared at his fellow team member in amazement, for a moment that was just a little too long to be polite.

  "Hi. Come in." Harry swung the door wide open and stepped clear.

  "Greetings." Carlos stepped through the entrance, moved toward the sitting room, and then stopped dead in his tracks. "Hi," he said to Scott before turning to Harry. "If I'm interrupting I can go."

  "If you were interrupting, I wouldn't have invited you in," replied Harry. "Carlos, this is Scott. He used to live in your apartment. Scott, this is Carlos, he's just moved in below and joined the team."

  Carlos walked over to Scott with his hand held out to shake it and Scott stood up for the greeting.

  "Good to meet you," said Scott. "It's a welcome interruption. You've been saved, Harry. We were talking mathematics."

  Harry thought they were talking about the number of gay men in professional football.

  "You used to live below?" Confusion showed on Carlos's face.

  Harry was mentally kicking himself. Not the best introduction. It slipped out before he'd had time to think. This wasn't the best bit of information to tell Carlos about Scott.

  "In the spare room," said Scott. "I was Jason's lodger for a month or two." They all knew Jason didn't need a l
odger. Scott apparently felt compelled to elaborate. "I needed a place to stay, and he had space."

  Harry's stomach churned with regret at having put Scott in this position, where he had to make up some cover story for the fact that he lived with his closeted boyfriend. Scott was a guest, and Harry wanted him to feel relaxed.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  September 2012

  CARLOS

  Harry took an age to open the door and then shuffled about uncomfortably. He stood behind the door in gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt, holding a bottle of beer. There was a slight but noticeable delay before the pleased-to-see-you look covered Harry's face.

  Carlos wondered what he'd interrupted, and he felt awkward.

  "Hi, Carlos, this is a surprise." Harry swung the door open and made way for Carlos to step through. "Come on in." Recently having moved into the apartment below, Carlos was familiar with the layout.

  Relieved that he was welcomed into Harry's home, Carlos feared he'd stand on the doorstep grasping for an excuse to explain his presence, perhaps beg to borrow a drop of milk, a DVD, or a clean towel. He stepped into the home and his head automatically turned toward the living room.

  The apartment had an identical layout as his on the floor below. There was a large entrance hallway with several doors leading to bedrooms, a closet, a visitor's bathroom, and double doors leading to an open-plan living area.

  "Come and let me introduce you." Harry introduced Scott.

  The Scott.

  The footballer's gossip circuit had already told Carlos about Scott.

  Scott placed his beer bottle on the table and stood up, holding out a hand in greeting.

  "It's a welcome interruption. You're saved, Harry. We were talking mathematics."

  Scott wore tight pink jeans—or were they purple—and what could be described as a white shirt, if it weren't for the tiny pink flowers all over it? Not real flowers, a pattern, but definitely pink.

  "Oh God. Mathematics," Carlos said on instinct. It seemed the right thing to say.

  Harry's hand was on Carlos's shoulder, guiding him to a chair. "Scott is a numbers genius at Birmingham University."

  They exchanged some polite conversation that barely registered in Carlos's mind as other thoughts ticked over and clicked into place. Carlos had only been at the football club for a week, but he'd already heard about Scott, and after unexpectedly meeting him in person he tried to remember what he'd heard.

  Carlos remembered the name, Scott. The description seemed accurate. The team rumor mill worked well, and he couldn't remember who'd first filled him in that along with his girlfriend, Liz, Jason had a flamboyantly gay friend living with him.

  Apparently he was a theatrical and ostentatious man, obviously gay, who suddenly appeared regularly at team events toward the end of last season. Of course, Carlos hadn't heard the stories in Jason's presence. There were just a few comments when Jason wasn't around.

  "Carlos, as in Garcia, the new man on the team?"

  "Yes, I signed the contract at the start of the season."

  It was two weeks ago, but this was the first time in Harry's apartment. The guy was never around, and never in the locker room. It was like he was avoiding Carlos.

  "How are you settling in to the team?" Scott was tall and slender and good-looking.

  Carlos had already heard about all of the players' living arrangements. He hadn't given it too much thought, as gossips ran through the private lives of all of the team, including their wives, girlfriends, and in some cases their extended families. Carlos didn't remember anything about Scott being a mathematics genius. That detail hadn't been mentioned. Neither had anyone bothered to mention that he was both stunning to look at, but with a warm and friendly personality.

  "All's good, so far." Carlos glanced at Harry for confirmation of his assessment.

  "Yes, you're a star player, so of course you've settled in."

  Again, Carlos wondered what he'd interrupted. Boyfriends? Lovers? There was something not right about Harry. Why hadn't he invited Carlos up for a social drink and chat?

  "Sit down, Carlos," said Harry. "Can I get you a beer?"

  It was exactly what he wanted; an invitation without questions on why he was there.

  Why was he there? Because he was in a strange city where he had no mates. The nearest convenient person was Harry. It's not like he'd bonded with Harry at the football club. Not in any way.

  "Nice shirt, by the way," Carlos said.

  "Thanks," Scott replied.

  "If I'd have known you were coming, I would have warned you to put on sunglasses. Things this bright are typical of Scott." Harry handed Carlos a bottle of beer. "Do you want a glass?"

  "Yes. Cheers."

  "You're welcome anytime that you want to make this long trek up the staircase. Anyway, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

  "I was just coming to see if you fancied coming for a beer." Carlos picked up his glass and took a sip. "Sorry to interrupt, but now I realize you have company."

  For some reason Carlos didn't think of Harry as being someone who'd have company. He was quiet, the shrinking violet in the corner of the locker room, and yet here he was playing host to a man in a pink flowery shirt. Not just any man, but a gay man who hung around football players often enough that other teammates commented on it. Carlos couldn't help but wonder what he'd interrupted. What was it Harry and Scott had in common? What was going on before he knocked on the door?

  "We were just chatting. Scott was giving me a math lesson."

  Harry clicked a remote control. Music filled the room and a moment later the blackness of the large TV screen was replaced by the gyrating bodies of a music video.

  "I really ought to be getting going," Scott said as he knocked back the bottle in his hand and drained the last of the beer.

  "You aren't leaving on my account?" Carlos instantly felt awkward; he was the gatecrasher who should go, but Harry had just handed him a drink.

  "Hey, it's early yet," said Harry. It may have been Carlos's imagination, but there seemed to be some hesitation in Harry's voice.

  "Seriously, I've gotta get up. I've got loads of stuff to do," said Scott.

  Scott stood up and gracefully glided across the room towards the door. Harry followed.

  When Scott paused by the front door, he and Harry seem to hesitate.

  From where he was seated, Carlos could not help but watch the whole thing and wonder further about the relationship between these two men. It looked like they didn't know whether to hug, kiss, or shake hands. They opted for clumsy pats on the shoulder. Harry opened the door, and Scott disappeared into the night.

  Left alone with Harry, Carlos paid full attention to his host.

  On the football pitch he was a great team player, but in the club, in the locker room, and in the dining room, he was completely unmemorable. He became one of those guys whose names and faces you could have difficulty recalling. But that evening, Carlos saw Harry in a whole new light. Harry entertained people; he had visitors. He was interesting enough in his own right to command the attention of a man as audacious as Scott.

  Scott was clearly a charismatic, complex personality, not just good-looking. He was interested in visiting Harry.

  Why not? Harry was attractive too. Carlos knew those baggy, shapeless clothes concealed a fit athlete's body. Harry stood by the door, looking at Carlos with those big green eyes. Carlos couldn't ever remember thinking about a guy's eyes before. There was Harry. Handsome face, fine, delicate features, and the most amazing eyes.

  Carlos could not help wondering about Harry and Scott as a couple. But he was surprised by the way he felt about this possibility.

  "You just come up to hang out? Shall we watch a film?"

  "I suggested beer."

  "I got a fridge full. Do you prefer to go out?"

  "Nah. A fridge full of beer and a film sounds good. It's a change from the sports channel."

  "Yeah, doesn't it? I get enough of sports at work." H
arry chuckled and walked over to the sofa and sat down, picking up a remote control.

  "So what kinds of films do you like to watch?"

  This wasn't the kind of conversation Carlos normally had with a man. He was certain he'd only ever asked women this question before...women that he was flirting with and he wasn't really interested in their answer.

  "I'm all for the usual stuff, action, thrillers. What do you fancy?"

  They chatted for an hour or more as they scrolled through a selection of films. The conversation flowed easily. They talked about the films they'd seen and things related to their content, and drifted off on many tangents.

  Harry told Carlos that his father had passed away a few years ago. His mother lived nearby in a modest two-bedroom house. Harry had bought the house for her, but she wouldn't accept anything larger. She believed excessive wealth should be passed to good causes. Harry's brother was a missionary in an African country.

  Carlos shared the bare facts of his family. His older brother worked in banking and lived in Madrid. His parents had lived in London through Carlos's school years but returned to Spain eight years ago.

  Something seemed off, and it wasn't Harry. Carlos had to know. "So you know Scott."

  "He was just here. That's a clue. Yes, I know him."

  Stupid question that wasn't a question.

  "You have a question about Scott?" Harry prompted.

  "Yes. Does he have a boyfriend?"

  A big smile spread across Harry's face.

  Carlos grinned as well when he heard how the question sounded coming from his lips. "I'm not interested in him."

  "You're not asking because you're interested, but you have a friend who is? I know, I understand." Harry chuckled again.

  Harry look so relaxed, sweet even, as he laughed. His face transformed into something better looking than it was a moment ago, and Carlos's heart seem to beat a little faster. He liked watching Harry like this.

  "I am afraid you're out of luck. Scott does have a boyfriend."

  Is it you? Carlos wondered and hoped it wasn't, but didn't dare ask.

  CHAPTER FIVE