The Locker Room

by Amy Lane

  They were the only furnishings in the place. Chris managed to find a couch that had been left outside for free, and the two of them hauled it a mile and a half after school one day, and then up the rickety flight of stairs so that Xander would have some place to sleep. Tucked in Chriss pocket was an old alarm clock of his sisters, because Xander didnt even have a cell phone or a watch, and Chris had woken him up on several occasions since hed moved in, simply by pounding on the door and hollering for him to get a move on.

  Xander was working from nine p.m. to four a.m. at the local Walmart, unloading the truck, and the two and a half hours of sleep he got every morning just didnt seem to be doing it for him. The thing was, rent cost seven hundred and fifty dollars every month, and he needed to work nearly full time to keep himself in a safe place. He had about two hundred dollars a month leftover to help pay for basketball and food, and Christian did his best to supplement that, because Xanders wrist bones really were wider than his biceps at this point, and he seemed to exist in a haze of perpetual hunger.

  Maybe they could have done it like that until school ended, maybe not, but one day, Chris lost his temper and his composure and inadvertently blew Xanders secret all over the basketball court.

  Coach had been particularly tough that day, and Xander, hungry, tired, and generally out of it, could barely keep up during the suicide drills that the team hated to the depth and breadth of their souls.

  “Cmon, Karcek, youre behind! Youre behind the seniors, behind the juniors, Jesus Christ, kid,youre behind the fucking sophomores! You think varsity is a given?I know your heads in the goddamned clouds, Xander, but you need to get your eyes focused here! Move it, dammit, move it, move it faster faster faster faster!”

  And Xander just about found his rhythm. His head was in the zone, he was picking up speed, he was moving it faster, moving it stronger, moving it moving it moving it… until his ankle rolled underneath him, and he practically exploded across the floor with momentum and speed and pain.

  He came to a stop on his back, staring up at the arched ceiling of the gymnasium, wondering why they couldnt seem to get that balloon wreath from the last rally from around the pipes at the top. He was pretty sure most of his body was bruised, and not sure if his ankle was going to be walkable, but for a moment, a sweet, soft, wondrous moment, he honestly thought about just laying there and letting the world spin around him while he drifted off to sleep.

  And then Chriss voice woke him up. Chris was yelling at Coach! “Goddammit, leave him alone! Hes starving and hes exhausted, and hes doing his goddamned best, okay!” Xanders shoulder was being

  shaken, and he looked dreamily up at Chris, pretty Chris, who had kissed him a month ago, and who had not kissed him since. Xander would really like to kiss him again, but there never seemed to be any time. Chris was a good boy, and went home after practice, and Xander had only a couple of hours to do his homework before going to work. They might have had other time, they might have time after school on nonpractice days, spare moments on weekends, between games, but Chris insisted that Xander needed his sleep. Was he not kissable anymore, now that he was a grown-up? Xander longed to ask him that, but right now it would just be groovy if the room stopped spinning.

  “Xan, you okay, man? That was an epic roll. Say something, right? I didnt see your head hit, but youre looking out of it!” Xander smiled a little. “Just thinking about a nap, brother. You think I could take one right here?”

  “No,” Coach said decisively, and then he leveraged a meaty shoulder under Xanders arm to help him up. Chris got the other side, and in spite of the fact that Coach was bigger, and probably stronger, Xander found it just felt safer to put all his weight on Christians shoulders. Coach sighed and backed away as Christian helped him hobble off the court, and Xander found himself sat down hard on the bleachers while he decided if the black spots dancing in front of his vision meant business or were just fucking around and promising nausea. Nausea would probably be a lot morelikely if he wasnt so damned hungry, huh?

  Xander blinked as a penlight was shined directly into his eyes, and Coachs broad, dark fingers probed his skull. Coach was a thirtyish black man with a wife, a kid, a spreading middle, and a smart mouth, and most of the kids would lie down in traffic and die for him.He didnt hear outbursts like Christians often, and Xander blinked hard and tried to read the mans expression.

  “You didnt hit your head,” Coach said with authority. He probed Xanders ankle, and although it was a little bruised it was definitely still functional.“Ankle might keep you down for a day, but its not fatal. Care to tell mewhy you were down there so long, Karcek?”

  Xander tried to focus again, and got lost.“Tired,” he grunted. “Sorry, Coach.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Alright, you two. My office. Now.Jakari?”

  An alumni student, who had a good job now but loved the game enough to be Coachs second, nodded and blew the whistle to start drills again. Xander struggled to his feet, only to find Chris under his arm, helping him along. He was just tired enough and needy enough to keep his arm aroundChriss shoulder under pretense.Chriss tight, muscular body felt so sweet next to his, and, oh God, when they were touching he wasnt alone.

  Together they struggled through the side door of the gym to the white hallway, and into Coachs office. When they got there, Coach sat them down on his battered red couch, then offered them each a bottle of water and power bars—in Xanders case, two.

  Xander was too out of it to be proud. He ate both power bars and guzzled the water, and then stopped, aware that the only sounds in the office were him eating, and Christians careful breathing.

  “Im sorry, Coach,” Christian said after a really awkward moment. “I got nothin but respect for you, yanno?I shouldnt have yelled at you like that.” Christian stood then and offered Xander a hand.

  Xander had taken it and was leveraging himself up when Coach said, “Karcek, Edwards, sit the hell down.”

  Christians eyes locked unhappily with Xanders, and Xander shrugged.He wasnt sure how much longer they could have kept it up.

  “Why you starving, Karcek?”

  Xander looked at Christian, and Christian shrugged, and then picked up the burden.

  “I didnt get him enough food,” he said, and that pissed Xander off.

  “Thats not fair! You been feeding me for two months!”

  “Yeah, but I didnt bring you more bread this morning. Im sorry, man. I slept late, and I forgot. I mean, I know you get free lunch, but thats your only meal—”

  “Wait wait wait w ait—”

  Xander looked up from his furious argument with Chris, and they both subsided.

  “Christian, why the hell you bringing him food?”

  Chris flushed.“He doesnt have much left after rent, Coach. He eats dinner with us a couple nights a week, but, yanno, he cant work more hours because he doesnt get enough sleep as it is.”

  Coach let out a big long sigh.“You paying rent at your house, Karcek?Whatre your parents doing?”

  It was Xanders turn to flush, and he found he couldnt answer. There was a terriblyawkward silence over the coachs office then, and Xander found himself counting the number of celebrity “Got Milk?” posters on the walls.Hed gotten to eleven, and was trying to figure out who the cute (male) tennis player was, when Coach cleared his throat and apparently stared down the weak link in their little chain of two.

  “Got anything to add to that whole lot of nothing, Edwards?”

  Xander turned his head back in time to see Christian flush helplessly.“Xanders story, Coach.”

  “Yeah? You been sneakinghim food from your parents table, seems like maybe its your story too, you think?”

  “Thats the only story you need to know from me, Coach. Can we go now?Xander needs to eat before he goes to work.”

  Coachs eyes narrowed, and Chris worked hard to keep his expressive, angels face straight. “Where you work, Xander?”

  It seemed to be an innocuous question, so Xander and Chris exchanged glanc
es and Xander answered.“Walmart.I do truck.”

  Coach pinched the bridge of his nose then.“Arent you fifteen? Walmartdoesnt take you unless youre 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, Xanders going to eat another power bar—”

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

  “Xanders going to eat my sandwich and yogurt leftover from lunch, and were 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-smellingtruth, 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 didnt you get help? Man, weve got foster services, and social workers and—”

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

  “Yeah, but… but—” Oh God. “But Ive got two things, you know? Ive 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 cant have you living like that.We just cant. Its going to kill you, and you need a safety net, and thats just the way it needs to be. Let me make some calls, okay?At least lets get you a place to sleep, okay? Youll probably still need a job, but I think theres a halfway house about a mile from here— sort of place foster kids can go before they turn twenty-one.Lets see if we can get you a spot there, okay?Its going to be tough, and were 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, lets 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 Chriss place at six thirty.Chris didnt 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 Id 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 didnt think you would get here—I mean, Im glad you got here, but, Jesus, how early did you haveto get up?”

  Xander shrugged.“Its easier with sleep.”

  The halfway house wasnt bad. Hed 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 Xanders 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 hands and gave a crooked smile. He reached up and tugged on Xanders bangs, hanging low over his eyes from the part in the middle.

  “You still look tired, Xan,” he said softly, “but Im glad to see you here in the morning.”

  “Your mom still mad?” Xander asked, and Chris grimaced, dropping his hands back to Xanders. Xander turned his over and engulfed Chriss 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 didnt know how we could have known you for so long and not known.”

  The dayChriss 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 hadnt been able to talk them out of it, even though, really, Xander didnt have any more moving out than he had moving in. Andi and Jed had taken one step into the apartment.Thats 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 Xanders 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 Chriss 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.“Its 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.Thats 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 didnt blow on them; he kissed them, tenderly.

  Xanders breath caught. They really were doing this. This was who they would be. He was so relieved.That one morning, hed had the taste of Chris on his tongue, and hed 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. “Theyre like… blue, rimmed in black. You look like an anime character, you know?”

  Xander couldnt talk. Chriss 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, “Im not pretty.”

  “Youre 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 Chriss mouth this time, and Chris opened for him. Xander wrapped his arms aroundChriss 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.

  “Theres people from school on this street,” he said quietly. “Id… Id 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 hed 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, holdingChriss hand, could kill it dead. Chris knew that.Theyd spent a year speculating on college, talking about going together and working on Xanders grades. Chris knew how much it meant to him.

  Xander backed up and reached out and ran his thumb across Chriss lower lip.

  “Were 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 grinne
d then, whole and undisturbed.“Cmon, Xan, my moms 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!Im so glad to see you. I mean—” She shook her head and her eyes got too bright.“Jesus, honey. Im sorry I took off on you last time.Cmere.” She held out her arms, and Xander felt compelled to walk into them. Suddenly he was embraced, enfolded, even though Chriss 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.

  “Sgood 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 Christians parents. God, he wanted to have a home with this in it.

  He stepped back, feeling awkward, and looked around for Penny. Hed enjoyed Christians little sister over the last year. She was selfinvolved (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 hed 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 didnt.

  “Penny!” Jed called.“Xanders here!”

  “I know, Dad!” came a muffled voice from the bathroom. “Im doing my makeup!”

  “Geez,” Jed complained good-naturedly.“I thought shed already done that.Any more mascara and shell look like a raccoon!”