“Pass this way, Quinton! He’s going to take you out!” Marshall shouted. Quinton ignored him and tried to sidestep the guy, but he was knocked back in a dangerous tackle. Marshall shook his head and cursed under his breath, but pushed forward. He was shocked that the referee wasn’t giving a penalty for such a harsh tackle, but all he could do was try to get the ball again after Quinton’s selfish mistake. He came up to the aggressive player who had tackled Quinton and went for the ball, and a devilish look in the UFS guy’s eye made Marshall pause for just a second. He ducked just as the player swung his elbow and almost hit Marshall in the face. Luckily, Marshall was at the perfect angle to pluck the ball from the player’s hand, and the risky move from the UFS player had cost him the ball. Marshall grabbed it quickly and ran for the goal line, feeling the wind push past his face. He could hear the thunderous footsteps of the UFS defenders as they chased after him, trying to get possession of the ball again. Marshall could see the line only ten feet away, but suddenly felt a hand pull at his shirt. A penalty for sure, Marshall thought, but the guy couldn’t grab a hold of Marshall, and he managed to slip by. It was happening! He was about to get there.
Reinhardt’s voice called out behind Marshall: “Don’t stop! Only three seconds left!” Marshall powered on, running as fast as his legs could carry him. Suddenly, a deafening silence descended on the entire stadium as everyone held their breath to see if Marshall would make it in time. It felt like time stood still, and Marshall closed his eyes as he zipped past the last defender and gasped deeply…
“Ridgemont University wins the semi-final match!” the announcer shouted out. Marshall could hardly hear the announcement. In an instant he was hoisted up in the air by his teammates. He finally came back to reality and realized that the match was over, and they had won. He had scored the winning try and ensured that the Ridgemont University team would be in the finals of the intervarsity cup!
Marshall felt a hundred hands on him, tapping his shoulders in congratulations and fighting to get their chance to shake his hand. He felt happy that the match was over, and he was glad that he could help to carry his team to victory, but in the chaos of the moment he sighed deeply. Even though he was the star of the team, he often hated the attention.
The teams respectfully shook hands and eventually left the field, and Marshall saw a brightly smiling face in the sea of people coming over to congratulate him: his father, Lionel, walked over to Marshall, looking so proud he could burst. Lionel was only in his mid-40s but his hair was completely grey and he looked years older than he actually was. A sporting injury in his youth had taken a lot of the wind from his sails, and for Marshall’s whole life he had always thought of his father as an old, rickety man. But Lionel was very well-respected by everyone in their community, and had sacrificed a lot to make Marshall’s life better. He had worked as an electrician for years, saving as much as he could so that Marshall could study at Ridgemont. He had taken Marshall to rugby training since Marshall was eight-years-old, and Marshall could see how much joy it brought Lionel to see him doing so well. Marshall pushed aside any conflicting emotions and hugged his father.
Lionel said: “That was excellent, my boy! You were fantastic on the field. I just want you to work on your scrum a bit more. But we can talk about that tomorrow. For now, I just want you to know that I’m so proud of you. When I watch you on that field…” Lionel’s voice started to shake and he almost broke into tears. Marshall was moved by how proud his father was, but at the same time he felt guilty. Lionel had always dreamed of seeing Marshall become a professional rugby player, but Marshall wasn’t so sure that it was what he wanted.
“Thank you, dad. I should get to the showers. The team is celebrating with a party tonight. I’ll see you afterwards. I won’t be back too late, okay?”
“Go and have fun, son. I’ll see you at home. I love you.”
Marshall gave a soft smile and ran after his teammates towards the locker room. He had to have a serious talk with his father, but the fear of disappointing him was overwhelming. All Marshall wanted to do was be the son his father wanted him to be, but he felt like his heart was pulling him in another direction.
In the locker room the rest of the team were already taking showers and getting changed. Coach Barker was congratulating them on their victory, but the team members were only half-listening. Marshall found Reinhardt at his locker, and started to remove the sweaty, muddy rugby gear to get ready for his shower. Reinhardt was already shirtless, and his large chest was rippling with sweat. “Great work out there, Marshall!” Reinhardt said. “I don’t know where we’d be without you. I just hope that someday I can be as good a rugby player as you are.” Marshall smiled at Reinhardt’s child-like innocence and sincere admiration. It was good to have a friend who was so loyal.
Marshall pulled off his shirt, exposing his bronze torso. His body was leaner than Reinhardt’s, but the tight, compact muscles showed that he was equally strong and was a formidable force in a scrum. Marshall had a light scattering of hair on his chest and a trail leading down his belly. Reinhardt eyed his body flirtatiously.
Marshall was well aware that Reinhardt had feelings for him, but Marshall only saw him as a friend. Even though knew that Reinhardt was attractive, he sensed that Reinhardt was more interested in idolizing him as a rugby player, rather than seeing him as anything else, and it could get slightly annoying at times.
Suddenly, Marshall felt a hard knock against his shoulder, and saw Quinton’s sneering face next to him. “Watch where you’re standing!” Quinton scowled, his bushy eyebrows flaring with anger.
“What’s your problem, Quinton?” Marshall shot back, trying to maintain his cool. Quinton had always been a nuisance to Marshall, ever since Marshall was made captain of the team. Even though he was a good player, Quinton often made some costly mistakes on the field, like not passing the ball to Marshall and losing possession to the UFS player. Marshall knew that Quinton wanted to be made captain instead, and his bad attitude really made Marshall’s blood boil.
Reinhardt reached out to grab Marshall’s arm, trying to calm him: “Leave him, Marshall. He’s not worth it.”
Quinton walked away looking smug and self-satisfied as Reinhardt and Marshall watched him go. Reinhardt tried to reassure Marshall with a broad smile. “He’s just jealous. You know that right. When you’re at the top, there’s always someone who wants to knock you down. Don’t let him get to you.”
Marshall shrugged, “I’ll be okay. It’s just irritating how he doesn’t stop with me.”
“Ready to hit the showers?” Reinhardt asked, raising his eyebrow at Marshall. Marshall nodded and removed his shorts and underwear, exposing his perfectly round butt. Reinhardt did the same, and Marshall caught a glimpse of his friend’s body. “I’ll need you to wash my back for me again. You know I struggle to reach back there.”
The guys hit the showers and lathered up, Marshall helping Reinhardt wash the strong, broad back. Marshall felt the weight of the day descend on him, and remembered his father’s proud expression. He wondered if there was ever a chance that he could talk to his father about pursuing a life outside of rugby.
Marshall said, still gently rubbing a loofah over Reinhardt’s back: “Can I ask you something?”
Reinhardt nodded in agreement, “Of course. Anything for you, Marshall.” Reinhardt’s blond hair was clinging to his face as he turned around to give Marshall a warm smile. The soap suds were dripping down the contours of Reinhardt’s back and his ample butt. Marshall tried to avoid looking.
“Do you ever feel like you’re not really in control of your life? Like you’re just following a script, and everything’s already planned out for you? Do you ever wish that you could just completely break free and do something totally… unexpected?” Marshall’s voice was soft and uncertain. He wanted to trust Reinhardt. They had been friends for almost two years, and Marshall really needed someone to talk to about all of the confusion he was feeling.
“W
hat do you mean, Marshall? I think we’re both lucky to have the lives we have. I wouldn’t want anything to change. Why would you? You’re the rugby star of Ridgemont University. You’re a stud, and everyone wants to be with you… I mean… you know. What do you want to change, Marshall?”
Something in Reinhardt’s tone told Marshall that he would never understand. Of course, all anyone could think was that Marshall should be grateful. He was a talented rugby player. He had a bright future ahead of him, probably being picked for the provincial team in a few months if he trained hard enough. That was all he ever heard from Coach Barker and from his father. But what if he didn’t want any of it?
Marshall dropped the loofah and reached for a towel, stepping out of the shower. Reinhardt turned to face him with a deep crease between his eyes. “Did I say something wrong? Is there something you wanted to talk about?”
“No. I’m just being silly. I’ll get over it.”
“Good,” Reinhardt said, the smile returning to his face. “We can’t have our champion player get distracted by his thoughts.” Reinhardt winked at Marshall, and Marshall faked agreement as he went back to his locker and got dressed. He wished that there was someone who could understand what he was going through. Maybe he just needed to de-stress, he thought. They Meyers twins’ party that night, celebrating the semi-final win, would be a good place to unwind.
Chapter 3
Kyle’s best friend Riana sat on the passenger’s seat of Kyle’s car nervously fidgeting as Kyle pulled up to the Meyers twins’ house. “Are you sure we should be here,” she asked, adjusting her large spectacles on her nose. Riana had dark freckles on her cheeks which she had tried to cover up with makeup, and she had tied her hair into a ponytail. It was her best attempt at dressing up, since she hardly ever went to parties.
Kyle rolled his eyes playfully. “Come on, Riana, we deserve to party sometimes too. We spend way too much time at the Academy. Besides, I have something to show you at the party. Let’s see if we can make some waves.” Kyle was looking particularly stunning. He wore a striped blue collar shirt and tight black jeans. His hair was styled into short spikes with gel, and he wore a bit too much deodorant, just to be sure. He was excited; this was finally his chance to be the center of attention with the most popular students on campus. The Meyers twins were campus legends, always throwing the most elaborate parties. They were both drop-dead gorgeous, almost identical with their soft brown hair and alluring, delicate features. Both twins were also athletic, with Eli on the gymnastics team and Jan one of the Ridgemont rugby players. Being invited to their parties was a surefire ticket into the inner circle of the gay elite of Ridgemont. Of course, Kyle and Riana weren’t actually invited to the party, but that didn’t stop them. Kyle had convinced Riana, a fellow master’s student at the Ridgemont Academy for Experimental Science and Technology, to join him at the party so that he could show off the new software that he had developed. Riana wasn’t sure how software would impress a bunch of undergraduate partygoers, but she often found it hard to say no to Kyle’s whims. He could be persistant when he had a brainwave that he needed to pursue.
“It’s just not really my scene,” Riana said, but Kyle was already getting out of the car and she realized that her resistance was futile. She followed Kyle out of the car and joined him as he stood staring at the double-story house which was pumping with music.
“Just trust me, Riana. Have I ever led you astray before?” Kyle said, flashing his persuasive smile.
“Well, there was the time you convinced me that your new zero-calorie chocolate would be a good dieting alternative. I don’t think I need to remind you how long I had to stay home with an upset stomach.”
Kyle giggled. “Yeah, that was a rather… smelly mistake of mine. I guess food isn’t supposed to be zero calories. Worth a try though. And the chocolate at least tasted good, right?” Kyle grabbed Riana’s sweaty palm and led her towards the door. “Let’s just go inside. It’s not like they’ll chase us away or something.
“I’m coming. No need to rush me,” Riana huffed. She looked around nervously as she followed Kyle to the doorway.
Kyle finally felt his own nerves start to boil over. He looked at his phone just before pressing the doorbell. On his home screen was an app called “Paul”. He had managed to route Paul’s interface through his phone and converted it into an app, so he could ask Paul questions on the go. If he kept the questions simple enough, Paul could usually calculate responses within a few minutes. If it worked, he would be able to really make an impression.
No one answered the door after almost a minute, and Riana looked increasingly impatient. “Maybe we should just go,” she said, almost pleadingly.
“Nonsense,” Kyle retorted, and opened the door to let himself in. He was greeted by loud music and dozens of students playing drinking games and chatting jovially in the house’s entrance hall and living room. Kyle saw the rugby players all celebrating their victory and being praised by the guys and girls around them. Wait ‘til they see what I can do, he thought.
Kyle walked into the kitchen and grabbed two open beers that he saw on a counter, passing one to Riana. “Drink this and let’s try and socialize a bit. It’s not time to break out my secret weapon yet.”
Riana reluctantly took the beer with a look of disgust, and took a small sip. She eyed her surroundings cautiously, and remarked: “These guys are so hot! Look at the captain over there. Yummy!”
Kyle turned his gaze back towards the living room. At the far end, near the sliding doors leading to the pool, was Marshall de Villiers. He was strikingly handsome, and Kyle was taken aback by seeing him after so much time. Kyle and Marshall had started high school together at West Park Boys’ High School, but Kyle had skipped two grades and hadn’t seen Marshall since he had started studying at Ridgemont. Now, Marshall was a sophomore and Kyle was already doing his master’s. Kyle had forgotten just how handsome Marshall was, with his dimpled cheeks and smooth, caramel skin. It was strange seeing him again. For the past year, Marshall had gone on to become the captain of the Ridgemont rugby team, excelling at the sport and becoming a hero on campus. Rugby was like a religion at Ridgemont, and, along with swimming, it was the biggest and best-funded sport on campus. The rugby team walked around like royalty, getting lots of attention and being invited to all of the best parties. Kyle couldn’t help but feel a surge of jealousy pass through him at seeing how Marshall was being treated by the gaggle of students who were fawning over him as he spoke to them in the living room. Rugby stars had a much easier path to fame and glory than engineers or scientists.
“He’s okay,” Kyle responded to Riana lamely. “I don’t get all of the die-hard fans, though. Is it really that impressive to be able to run with a ball?”
Riana pursed her lips. “What Marshall de Villiers does isn’t just running with a ball. He’s an artist. You should watch the matches with me and you’d see.”
Kyle’s eyes creased. “Well, I went to school with him, and he seems to have become super arrogant since then. Not really the type of guy I would find attractive,” he lied. Kyle decided that it was time to try out using Paul. He motioned for Riana to follow him and walked over to a group of guys playing cards. The guys looked at Kyle suspiciously, but he ignored their icy reception and said: “How would you guys like to challenge me at blackjack? You can deal, and if you win…” Kyle dug into his pocket and pulled out a few crisp, blue notes,” ...this R500 is yours. I’ll start off with ten chips, and if all of them are gone, you take the money. But if I get to five hundred, I win. Deal?” Kyle started grabbing some of the blue poker chips that the guys had been playing with.
The guys smiled deliriously, and agreed. They shuffled the deck, and dealt a pair of cards to Kyle. Kyle focused his phone’s camera on the deck as the cards were dealt, and typed in a short message to Paul.
One of the guys looked confused, and asked: “What’s that? Asking your mom for help?” The guys laughed idiotically.
�
��Just calculating the possibilities. You don’t mind if I use a bit of science to help me, do you? The dealer still has the advantage, after all.” The guys seemed hesitant, but Kyle flipped through the money on the table. “No risk, guys. I’ll give you this if I lose, and if I win, you don’t need to give me anything.”
The hesitant guy smiled and said: “Sure, if you want to give away money, no problem!”
Kyle’s phone buzzed a few seconds later, and Paul returned the message: “Hit. 31% confidence.”
Kyle raised his eyebrow. Paul wasn’t very confident that he would win if he chose to take another card, but Kyle was determined to trust Paul and follow the instructions he gave. He had to know if Paul could really be as accurate as he suspected. Kyle put in one of his blue chips. “I’ll hit,” Kyle said. The guys laughed at his decision. Kyle had a king and a seven, and hitting would almost certainly cause him to go over 21. The dealer flipped over a card, and revealed a five. “Over! You lose!” the guy shouted. “Looks like we’re getting some cash tonight, boys!”
Kyle reeled in embarrassment. Was Paul letting him down? He would have to keep on going. He knew that Paul’s accuracy would increase every time more cards were played.
Rewriting Destiny Page 2
