The Locker Room

by Amy Lane

  He told Chris he needed the job but not why, exactly, and until that day in late September, Chris never realized how bad that need truly was.

  “Whats with the shades?” Chris had grown four inches during his freshman year in high school, but Xander had grown four as well. Together they still managed to walk comfortably, and Xander never felt like he towered over his friend, which was nice, since he towered over nearly everyone else.

  “Sbright,” Xander mumbled, and Chris stopped and looked at him, square and irritated.

  “Its the same bright every other day.And those look… Jesus, Xan, youve still got the tag on the front of them, and theyre hella expensive….” Chriss eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head dangerously, looking both betrayed and furious at the same time.

  “Xander, did you steal those?”

  Behind the sunglasses, one of Xanders eyes went wide. The other one was swollen shut.

  “I had to,” he rasped. “Im… Im sorry, Chris. I… I just fucking needed them, okay!” He tried to make his voice angry, but Chris looked so hurt. His own voice ended up breaking, and he turned his face away, so he could run away from it, all of it, but before he could take his first step, Chriss hand came up and snatched the shades away.

  “Fuck.”

  “Your mother know you talk like that?” Xander snapped, taking the shades back and shoving them down on his face. His eye was swollen shut and his nose was just swollen, and now that Chris could see his whole face, he could probably see that what looked like a chapped lip was really a split lip.

  “Xan… Xander! Wait!Goddammit, wait!” Chris broke into a run next to him, and the cool fall morning was clouded by the spatter of his feet on the green-shaded sidewalk.Chriss hand came down on his shoulder and whirled him around, and Xander, who could face an opponent on the court without flinching, cringed from that touch on his arm like a child would cringe from a smacked bottom.

  Xander found himself hunched and backing up toward the hedge that separated the residences from the thoroughfare, and trying to escape his best friend like a shy field spider would escape a screaming girl.

  But Christian didnt scream.

  “What happened?” he asked quietly.

  Xander shrugged.“Dont want to talk about it,” he muttered.

  “Too goddamned bad. You tell me, and tell me now, or I turn around and go home and phone my dad, and he has to report abuse, its the goddamned law, and thatll be a big fucking mess. Talk to me, Xander.” Chris had fair skin—beautiful, star-pale skin that set off his night-dark eyes—and now it was blotchy and red, and his chin was quivering and his eyes were too bright and rimmed with pink. Xander had an urge to just hold that quivering chin and smooth his thumb over Chriss plump lower lip, and tell him not to cry.

  Dont cry, Christian. Im okay. Im here with you.

  “Moms boyfriend.” Xander didnt even know this ones name. “He wanted my uniform money for basketball. I told him no.”

  Chriss eyes got really big then, and he looked around wildly. “Where is he? Jesus, did he get that money?Xander, were playing varsity this year. You cant not sign up for ball!” Sophomores in varsity, it had been a big furry deal the year before and it loomed no less glorious now. Varsity. Harder games, harder players—a chance for Xander to run and run and run and pound out the pain of the everyday on the court with more fierceness than ever. Varsity. It even sounded sexy.

  And then it hit Christian. Xander could see the moment that it hit him, and he almost felt bad for his friend.“Omigod!” He sounded like a little kid.“Xander, I dont even know where you live!”

  Xanders bruised lip quirked up, and the entire swollen side of his face gave an enthusiastic throb of pain.

  “You think there might be a reason for that?” he asked simply, and Chris clapped his hand over his mouth.

  “You never said,” he muttered, devastated. “It was so bad, and you just showed up at my door, and you never said—”

  Xander yanked his shoulder around protectively and shoved his stolen glasses up on his face.“Youve got a good life, Christian. Youve got a good family.Didnt want them to think I was too much trouble, kay?”

  “No!” Christian was honestly in pain, and Xander didnt know what to do. His hands actually fluttered, until they ended up on his friends shoulders, and he looked around anxiously. He and Chris always went early, but there was always the chance that someone would catch them acting like fags on the street corner, and there would go… well, basketball.He couldnt imagine playing basketball and having that sort of thing bouncing around. There would go his teachers respect and all of the shit hed worked for so hard the year before. No. No. He would just calm Chris down, and they could go back to walking, side by side, on the way to school.

  “Look, man,” he whispered, furiously. “Just calm down! Calm down!Usually Im smarter, okay? But I got home late, and he spotted the money in my backpack, cause I got paid last night, and, well, I dont know what the fuck to say! I was stupid! I got caught!It wont happen again!”

  But somehow, that just made Chris cry more.“You werent stupid,” he muttered, his voice clogged, and Xander looked around frantically.

  “What?” he asked, distracted. Damn, Chris and his happy family. If hed ever had to hide anything about himself at all, hed know better than to fall apart on a street corner where anyone might see.

  “I said you werent stupid!” Chris all but yelled, and Xander would have smacked his hand against his forehead, but his whole face still hurt.

  “Well,were being stupid right now!” he hissed, and Chris, being open, easy, trusting Chris snapped back, “Well someone needs to stand up for you!” And Xander saw some more students coming up the walk, far enough away not to see them, but coming their way.

  Dammit! He knewthey couldnt see him, but that didnt stop him from turning around and grabbingChriss hand, hauling him up around the hedge and dragging him to the little hollow between house and hedge and the gate to some poor slobs backyard. They were probably trespassing, but Xander didnt give a shit. They were hidden from view, behind a bus stop bench and behind a hedge. They were safe.

  They stood there for a moment, panting, glaring at each other, while Chris wiped his pretty face with his sleeve and tried to pull himself together.

  “You dont deserve this,” he said after a moment. He was looking at the ground, and perversely, Xander missed that moment when they were glaring at each other.

  “Its not about deserving it,” Xander told him fatalistically. “Its about getting it.My moms a drug whore, Christian.I dont know what else to tell you.My apartments a pit. I have to sleep under the stairs by the dryer if I want some goddamned peace. My best meals are at school and—” His voice caught, because he couldnt be defiant and defensive when he was talking about Christians family. “And at your house,” he finished, embarrassed.“What do you want me to say? I still gotta go to school.I still gotta play.”

  Chris looked at him, outrage sparking those night-dark eyes.“Play? Play? Goddammit, Xander!Shouldnt you be worried about something else? A place to sleep? A foster family? Jesus, how you let me just run you around this last year, dragging you into the fucking team and nagging at you about your fucking homework! Fuckthe game!”

  “Dont you say that!” Xander was horrified.

  “I mean it!”

  “Dont you say it!”

  “Fuck the motherfucking game!”

  “Shut up! Shut up!SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Xander realized that he was shouting, but he couldnt seem to help it. Xander never shouted. He never shouted, and he never got angry, and he never let shit bother him. He just did what the teachers asked and did what Coach told him and followed Christian blindly into the lunchroom and onto the court and into hell if he asked him, because Christian and basketball were the two things Xander had locked into the laser scope of his brain that he would never change up for another target. Ever. And Chris was just going to smear those images, throw them away, take away the only two things that had ever meant a fucki
ng thing, because Xander hadnt been able to sneak quieter or duck quicker, and it wasnt any fucking fair.

  “Shhh!” Chris said frantically, looking up at the small window above their heads. With any luck, Mr. and Mrs. Side-yard had already gone for work, but you could never tell.

  “You cant take it from me!” Xander half-gibbered.“Dammit, Chris… you… the game… its all I got!” He meant “You and the game” but he was never sure if Chris heard that part.

  “But… your face, Xander! Dammit, your face, man! Have you even seen it?”

  Xander shrugged, trying to ignore the tears pooling in his glasses. “Wasnt that pretty anyway,” he muttered.

  “Shut up,” Chris snapped, and his complexion grew even blotchier. Xander watched in wonder as, in the midst of everything else they were doing in this strangers side yard, Christian Edwards blushed.

  There was an awkward, flustered, and blushing silence between the two of them, and Xander looked away. He was surprised when Chris reached out with two fingers and pulled his chin back, forcing Xander to look at him.

  “Now take off your glasses,” Chris commanded, and Xander sighed and did it, because he really would follow Chris into hell.Chriss thumb came up, gently grazing Xanders ravaged cheek, and Xander, about to snap “Get off me!” or something equally macho, brought up his hand to yank Chris away.

  Thats not what happened, though. What happened was that he trapped Chris there, and then his hand started trembling, and then… then… his eyes locked with Chris and they were frozen, Chriss hand against his bruised face, his own hand keeping it there.

  “Im not pretty,” Xander whispered, unable to let go. He knew he wasnt. He had high, Slavic cheekbones, an overly long jaw, and a broad forehead.At fifteen, he had to shave every morning, or hed be shadowed by the afternoon, and his chest already had a patch of hair in the middle, between his nipples and running from his belly button down under his jeans. He often thought he would look good as one of those cavemen in a comic strip; all he had to do was bend his back and carry a club.But thats not how Chris was looking at him now. Not even a little.

  “Youre my friend,” Chris whispered back, and his other hand came up so he could rub Xanders lower lip with his thumb. “That makes you beautiful.”

  They stood there, transfixed by each other, until they heard the voices coming up the walk. The kids that had sent Xander running for this private spot in the first place had finally wandered down, desultorily, and were passing their spot, chatting loudly.

  Xander and Christian froze, staring at each other in fear of discovery and wonder at what it was they were doing that would be discovered. It was Chris who made the first move; maybe he knew that Xander wouldnt put up a fight when they were so close to other people. Maybe it was the way Xander was staring into his eyes with wonder and hope and terror all mixed in. Xander had never asked him, not even in all the years that followed, what made him do it, for fear that his answer would be that it had been a whim, or a game, or for the hell of it. It would have been just too cruel if the most magical moment of Xanders life had happened for the hell of it.

  Slowly, Chris raised himself on his toes and pulled Xanders head down for a kiss.

  It was nothing, at first. Just a bare brush of lips to lips. Xander had never kissed a girl, and to his knowledge, neither had Chris, so at first just the taste of the others breath as they rubbed lips was enough. And then Chris pressed a little harder, and Xanders lips parted, and Chriss tongue slipped in, gently, licking at the inside of Xanders mouth until Xander had no choice. He opened his mouth fully, and welcomed Chris in.

  And Chris, for all he was six inches shorter than Xander, groaned, pushing at Xander until his back was pushed up against the gold stucco of the house. (Xander would be wiping pale yellow stucco dust off the back of his gray sweatshirt all day.)The inside of Xanders mouth was tender and sore, and Chris was inexperienced. A clumsy foray by an enthusiastic tongue made Xander whimper and had Chris pulling back, looking both exhilarated and frightened.

  “You… you dont want?”

  Xanders chest was heaving and his hands were shaking, and without meaning to, he clenched his fingers even tighter over Chriss hand.“I want,” he muttered, shocked.His life had been… running. Running, finding shelter, finding food. Brushing his teeth had been a challenge. Clean laundry had been a difficult priority. Taking a shower was a matter of stealth and strategy.

  In all of this, hed not been listening to his bodys other priorities. Hed followed Chris because he had to, because Chris was all that was light and kindness, and Xander craved him.Hed never thought that Chriss body—his male body—was something else to crave.

  Chriss smile was blinding then.“You want? Me?Its—” He flushed.“I mean, you know, that means were… you know—”

  Yeah, Xander knew. He knew the regular word and the street words. He knew the word the teachers would use and the word the students would use. But none of those words mattered, not the politician word and not the taunts that would be leveled at them if anyone found out. All that mattered was Chris.

  “Chris,” he said, marshalling his thoughts, his runaway heartbeat, the aching surge in his groin.“You understand, right? A foster home would mean Id leave.”

  Chris brought his shaking hand, the one that had been cupping Xanders chin, to his own mouth, and he shook his head. “Aww… Xander. Christ.You… you cant stay… not if—” His eyes started to water, and Xander finally dropped their clenched hands to his side and brought his other hand up to wipe awayChriss tears with his thumb.

  “I can do anything if it means I dont have to leave you,” he said honestly.“If I can play basketball, it will all be okay.”

  Christian leveled him a mutinous, angry look, and Xander recognized it.Hed shown it to his parents when they told him that if he didnt bring up his math grades hed have to quit the team. Hed shown it to their dumbfuck World History teacher (soooo much less cooler than Coach had been the year before) when shed commented on Xanders torn and oft-worn jeans.Hed shown it to kids at lunch when they suggested (none too subtly) that maybe hed want to stop tagging along with the poor kid, when they had better parties to go to.

  “You cant live there,either,” he said with determination, and Xander looked at him helplessly.Chriss parents probably would let Xander sleep on their couch for forever, but Xander didnt want that. Chris… Chris sort of respected him. Xander didnt want to be some useless thing, just leeching off ofChriss family.Xanders sense of these things was hazy—he only had two reference points. There was the filth and spareness of his own home, and the sweetness and comfort of Christians. The adults in that home worked in partnership. The adults there provided.Xander didnt recognize that he was barely fifteen. He just recognized that if he was ever going to… to be with Chris, then he didnt want to be a leech, or a burden, or a charity case.

  He wanted to be a partner.

  “An apartment,” he said brightly. “Ill… we can fake an ID or something. I can get an apartment.She… she wont know where I am. She wont care. I… I just—” Chris was looking at him with big, bright eyes, as though he were making sense, as though he really could change the axis of the earth with a few wishes.

  “I just need to be able to play,” he said helplessly, and Chriss look… dimmed a little, became fond, and Xander knew it had been the wrong thing to say, but he couldnt seem to find the right one.

  “We can do that,” Chris said, and he nodded, and Xander became acutely aware that they were up against a strangers house, their bodies plastered together, their hands clenched like lovers.

  “Can we—” Oh, God, he hated to ask. “We have to go, but can we—” He needed it. Chriss lips were swollen, and hed tasted so… so golden. So warm and sunshiney. Xander wanted to taste him again, to make sure it hadnt been a fever dream, a mirage, hatched in desperation as he huddled under the stairwell by the dryer.

  Chriss mouth was on his again, and he let go ofChriss hand and wrapped his arms around that smaller, mor
e slender body and pulled his friend, his savior, deep into whatever haven he could give.Dont leave me, Chris.Dont let me leave you. I need this. I need you.Ill do anything, move the world, move out of my moms place, get an apartment, pass all my classes, anything, just stay here, right here, forever.

  God… oh God… oh God… he tasted so sweet.

  They pulled back, panting, and suddenlyChriss hands were smoothing his shirt and wiping the corners of his mouth, and Xander found himself doing the same to Chris. They needed to straighten up, he thought giddily.Couldnt have the student body knowing that their two basketball stars were swapping spit with each other, now could they? Oh, Jesus. No one could know.

  Chris was staring at him, backing away, looking a little embarrassed and a little mischievous and a little wonderful, and Xander wanted to tell the world.

  “Dont leave me, okay?” he said before he could stop himself.

  Christian look puzzled.“Okay, big guy. I thought the point was that you wouldnt leave me, right?”

  Xander shrugged, and shivered, and gaveChriss lips one last brush with his thumb.“Either way, it would be bad.”

  Chris nodded, caught his hand and released it.“Gotcha, okay? Were together. Its good. Were gonna be late, though, okay? We need to make up that quiz in Algebra this morning.”

  Xander nodded, and they both listened carefully, and then walked to the edge of the divide between the hedge and the road. Xander came out first, looking around, and then said,“Cmon. Were clear.”

  Chris rounded the corner, too, and then they both shouldered their backpacks and broke into a trot, trying to get to school before the masses.

  Life in a Garbage Bag

  THEY managed to get the apartment, but barely. Chris had to steal his mothers credit card, and then replace it in her purse before she knew about it. Xander had to find someone to get him a fake ID that made him eighteen instead of fifteen. In the end, they had a small, unfurnished apartment about two blocks from the high school, in the opposite direction as Xanders mother. Xander figured his mother wouldnt care, and one night he simply stopped showing up at her place and took a blanket and a pillow and a garbage bag full of clothes to his.