Crossover

by Jeff Rud

  I knew telling someone my suspicions was probably the right thing to do. But how would that look to the rest of my teammates? They knew Ben and I had been rivals for the last few years. They’d probably just think that I was ratting him out so that I could become the star of the Sainsbury show. And if I was being totally honest, I had to admit that at least a small part of me thought it would be pretty cool to have Stillman out of the way.

  I must have been unusually quiet on the walk home because Lukas noticed after just a few minutes. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “I’ve just got something on my mind.”

  “Me too,” Lukas replied.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “I just don’t get it,” Lukas said. “I mean, what’s wrong with people in this school?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, why would anybody do something like that to my locker?”

  That was a tough one. There was no good answer. I just shook my head.

  “I don’t know...”

  “Well, neither do I, but it sucks,” Lukas said. “Ever since about sixth grade, I’ve been hearing it. This is just more obvious than it’s ever been before.”

  “Hearing what?” I said.

  “Things about me being gay, being queer,” Lukas said. “I mean, why does it matter to people so much?”

  Lukas fixed his gaze on me. I knew he wanted answers, but I didn’t have any— none that made sense, anyway.

  I thought about the articles my dad had written last year. “I guess a lot of people are afraid of anything or anybody that’s different,” I said.

  “Afraid...of what? That’s just so—”

  I interrupted him in mid-sentence. “Luke, look, I’m not saying it’s right, but you asked, so I’m telling you. I think it does have a lot to do with how you look and act. You’re not a jock, you like theater, you dress different and you’re kind of, uh, soft-spoken. A lot of guys think that’s weird.”

  Luke laughed bitterly. “Whatever, Kyle,” he said. “I know I’m a little different, but what’s wrong with that? Do I have to act like all the rest of you guys—like my whole life revolves around sports and hunting and monster truck shows?”

  This time I laughed nervously. But what Luke was saying made a lot of sense. It also made me feel guilty.

  “I was thinking about what you said about not wanting to be in theater because you didn’t think it was what ‘real’ guys did,” he added. “But what do you think pro wrestling is? Or lots of other pro sports, for that matter? They’re all about drama and entertainment, just like our little Sainsbury production, you know, if not more.”

  That idea stopped me for a second. I was just mulling it over when Luke hit me again.

  “Besides,” he said, “don’t people realize there are gay athletes out there? God, Kyle, something like ten percent of the population is gay. So there’s a good chance that somebody on your basketball team is.”

  I had heard the statistics too. And just last year I had read a story about John Amaechi, a long time nba player who had written a book about his career as a gay pro athlete. There were no doubt plenty of professional and amateur athletes who hid their lifestyles because they might be misunderstood or harassed, just like Lukas had been. All those locker room jokes I had heard and even participated in now seemed pretty juvenile. And in contrast to me and some of my friends, Luke Connor seemed downright mature.

  I realized now I had been guilty of a lot of things. Of shunning Luke because he was different, but also of buying into the notion that being gay was something to be ashamed of. What if I had been born gay? How would I have wanted to be treated? I already knew the answer to that.

  chapter fourteen

  The main thing that kept me awake that night wasn’t my guilt about Luke. It was the question of what, exactly, I should do with my suspicions about Ben Stillman.

  If I went to Coach Williams, I didn’t know how he would react. Probably not well. He had already lost two players this week. Losing his leading scorer and “meal ticket” might just send him over the edge.

  If I spoke to my parents about it, it could get really complicated. They’d probably want to go talk to Principal Jensen right away. And although I trusted Dad, I didn’t want him turning it into a human-interest column in the Sunday Bulletin.

  Then it hit me. I could turn over the information to Lukas. He was the one who had been most affected. He could decide how to proceed.

  The next morning, I got up good and early and waited on the corner of Albion and Bank for Lukas to show. At about 7:45 AM he appeared, wearing his usual dress slacks and shiny black shoes with a white argyle sweater. Luke obviously wasn’t about to change his style just to fit in.

  “Hey, Kyle,” he said, looking surprised. “Were you waiting for me?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I need to tell you something.”

  A flash of concern crossed Lukas’s face. “Sounds serious,” he said.

  “It is,” I replied. I launched headlong into my suspicions about Ben Stillman. How the things he had said to me were so similar to the messages that had been scrawled on both the play props and on the note in Luke’s locker. How Stillman was good friends with Joey Armstrong and Kurt Flatley. How Stillman was a huge jerk who was completely capable of doing stupid and hateful things.

  “Well,” I said, looking at Lukas. “What do you want to do about it?”

  “Nothing,” Luke said flatly.

  “Nothing? What do you mean nothing? Don’t you want to nail this guy?”

  Luke paused and heaved a sigh. “Kyle, I already knew it was Stillman,” he said slowly. “When the police showed me the videotape of the kids in the theater, I saw the letters ley on the arm of the hoodie that the third kid was wearing. I know Stillman has a Hurley hoodie just like that. And the kid in the video was pretty big. You don’t have to be James Bond to figure it out. The cops are pretty sure the same kids who wrecked the sets also did that stuff to my locker. Makes sense to me too.”

  I was confused. Lukas already knew it was Stillman? Why hadn’t he said something? Why hadn’t he gone to the principal or to the cops? If I had seen the tapes I would have recognized Stillman’s jacket too.

  “So, why don’t you tell somebody?” I said.

  “I thought about it,” Lukas replied quietly. “But what’s the point? Stillman is a huge basketball star, isn’t he? So if I turned him in, it would just hurt the school’s chances. It would hurt kids like you who have worked hard for years. Stillman and his buddies would be pissed at me. I’d have to watch my back. And do you think anything would really change because of it?”

  I shook my head. Luke was right. Stillman wasn’t the kind of kid to learn a lesson from something like this, even if it was obvious enough to hit him square between the eyes. Luke was smart enough to know that. He was also considerate enough to realize how much losing Stillman would hurt our team’s chances this year. But it wasn’t right.

  “This is messed up,” I said. “Stillman does something like this, gets away with it and still gets to play basketball.”

  Lukas shook his head. “I know, it’s not perfect. But I’ve thought about it. I don’t want to be the one who brings the Eagles down. And I’m banking on the odds that, one day, Ben Stillman is going to run into somebody bigger and more ignorant than he is.”

  I laughed. “Somebody like that might be tough to find.”

  Lukas chuckled. “I’ve gotta go,” he said. “I’m working with Ms. Lawson on my lines this morning.”

  “All right, man. Later,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand.

  Luke smiled. “You comfortable with this?” he said as our palms met. “Or do you think maybe we should wait until the second date?”

  I laughed out loud. I was really happy that Luke wasn’t holding a grudge. He was a pretty tolerant guy. Way more tolerant than a lot of people.

  “Later,” he said, heading off toward the theater.

  While Luke and I had been talking
and walking through the parking lot, I hadn’t noticed the tall, solitary figure hanging about half a block behind us.

  “Hey, Evans, wait up!”

  The deep voice calling my name through the crisp autumn air caught me by surprise. I spun around.

  “I have to talk to you.”

  I turned and faced Ben Stillman, who by now was just a few feet away. His usual sneering smile was missing. He looked downright worried.

  “I saw you talking to that Connor kid,” Stillman said slowly. “What’s up?”

  “What do you mean?” I said.

  “I mean, what were you two talking about?”

  “I’ve known Luke for years,” I shot back. “Since when do I have to tell you what I’m talking to a friend about?”

  “Don’t screw with me,” Stillman seethed. “If you two are planning to tell Coach what I did, I’d think twice if I were you.”

  “Tell him what?” I replied. “Is there something bothering your conscience, Stillman? If you have one, that is?”

  Stillman jumped toward me, putting his face just inches in front of mine. He was close enough that I could feel his anger. I couldn’t help but notice he was wearing the brown Hurley hoodie that had played a starring role in the security video. He really wasn’t very bright.

  “Think about it,” Stillman snarled. “If you guys turn me in, there goes the basketball season.”

  “Turn you in?” I said. “You’re such a dork, Stillman. I had no proof that you even did anything until now. You just confessed.”

  A pained expression crossed Ben Stillman’s face. “I need a scholarship,” he growled. “Nobody’s going to mess with that. Nobody. Especially not that little drama queen. Or you.”

  I’d heard enough. My head grew hot and my temper surged out of control.

  “You don’t even know Lukas,” I yelled. “So just shut up about him.”

  Stillman leaned forward again, his tone menacing. “Just make sure he doesn’t rat me out.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “Lukas has proof you messed with the sets and that you probably trashed his locker too. But he isn’t going to turn you in.”

  “What?” Stillman said.

  “Luke knows that if you’re stupid enough to do something like that, you have bigger problems. No suspension is going to fix them. He doesn’t want to mess things up for the basketball team. He’s a pretty cool kid...a lot cooler than you.”

  Stillman was silent. I left him standing there, alone in the parking lot, wearing his Hurley hoodie and a stunned expression.

  The more I thought about the parking lot confrontation with Stillman, the more I admired Lukas’s decision not to turn him in. Even though he had been bullied by Stillman and his buddies for years, Luke didn’t seem to have a huge appetite for revenge. Luke’s maturity had surprised me, but it had absolutely floored Ben Stillman.

  Yet I also couldn’t help but feel that Stillman was being rewarded for acting like an idiot. Seeing him escape punishment for what he had done was driving me crazy.

  I needed to talk to somebody about the situation. Somebody who had no stake in the basketball team. Somebody who was a good listener. I knew just the person. Jenna.

  I found her at lunchtime. Once again, she was eating in the cafeteria with kids from the drama group. Their table was bubbling over with excitement about Oliver! Performances were now less than a month away. Already the cast was becoming a tight group even though we’d been rehearsing for less than three weeks. Each of us looked forward to the first time we’d be able to put everything together on stage for an actual audience.

  “You nervous, Kyle?” asked Ollie Jacobs. “I mean, you’ve got to sing by yourself in front of so many people.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I groaned. “I think I feel a wicked sore throat coming on.”

  Jenna chuckled. “You’ll do great, Kyle,” she said. “I’ve been listening to you in rehearsals. You’re awesome.”

  I blushed as the rest of the kids at the table looked my way. Nobody else said anything. I wondered if they thought I was even half as good as Jenna did.

  “Can I talk to you alone?” I asked.

  “Sure,” she said.

  We again strolled the school grounds. A light autumn rain was falling, which meant almost everyone else was inside. “I’m wondering what to do about this situation,” I said.

  “What situation?” Jenna replied.

  “I know who the third guy is on that videotape. The one who helped wreck the Oliver! scenes and trash Luke’s locker.”

  Jenna arched her eyebrows in surprise. “Who is it?” she said.

  “It’s Ben Stillman. I’m sure of it.”

  “Stillman? Are you serious?”

  “Totally,” I said. “And part of me wants to tell somebody. But another part wants to keep it quiet. It would obviously hurt our team if he got suspended, even though he definitely deserves it.”

  Jenna was thinking it over.

  “I’d say you don’t have any choice,” she said finally. “This isn’t about the team. He deserves to get caught. We worked hard on those sets, and what they did to Luke’s locker definitely wasn’t right.”

  “But Luke doesn’t even want to turn the guy in,” I said. “He figured out that it was Stillman too. I bet the whole school will know before long.”

  Jenna looked at me and shook her head. “It’s not just up to Luke,” she said. “You know who’s responsible for this. You know what’s right. It shouldn’t be left up to the victim to turn Stillman in. Luke’s probably worried about what Stillman would do to him if he went to the principal.”

  I had to agree with Jenna, as usual. Of course Luke would be worried. He was half the size of Ben Stillman. Then again, Lukas was no coward.

  “Don’t you think it’s going to look weird if I narc on Stillman, though?” I asked. “Some people might think I’m doing it just to get him out of the way.”

  “Kyle,” Jenna said firmly, “you’ve got to stop worrying so much about what other people think. You have to figure out what’s the right thing to do and do it.”

  For the rest of that day, I thought about what Jenna had said. This whole situation had seemed so complicated. But when you broke it down the way she had done, it was simple. Do the right thing. Even if it’s difficult.

  I decided to do just that. As I went to sleep that night, I was already planning what I’d say to Principal Jensen and, if necessary, to Coach Williams and all my teammates.

  chapter fifteen

  I had basketball practice before school, so I knew I wouldn’t have time to talk to the principal until lunch hour. Still, I made sure I arrived at school early. In fact, I was already dressed and shooting free throws when Ben Stillman strode through the double doors of the gym.

  Judging by the sullen look on his face, this hadn’t been the easiest of weeks for him. He headed for the locker room but was quickly intercepted by Coach Williams. “Stillman,” the coach said. “I need to talk to you.”

  “After practice, Coach?” Stillman asked.

  “No, right now,” came the curt reply.

  The rest of us stood there, basketballs on hips, staring at one another. The coach and Stillman walked into the coach’s office and shut the door behind them. Coach Williams drew the shades on the window that looked into the gym. This was definitely serious.

  Ten minutes later, the door opened and Ben, now ashen-faced, walked out. Not just out of the coach’s office, but out of the gym as well.

  Coach Williams blew his whistle. “Everybody to center,” he shouted.

  We all assembled at midcourt and sat in a horseshoe formation in front of Coach.

  “People,” he said slowly. “I’ve got to say, this has been an awful week for me and for Sainsbury basketball.”

  I looked at Sammy and shrugged my shoulders. He stared back blankly. We knew something bad was coming.

  “Ben Stillman is no longer a member of our team,” the coach continued. “Nobody came forward,
but the police have identified him from the videotape of the theater incident. He was with Flatley and Armstrong when they wrecked those sets. And he just admitted to me now that he took part in the locker vandalism too.

  “I had no choice. I had to suspend Ben and the others for the rest of this season. All three of them will be on student probation until after Christmas. They will also be required to attend awareness meetings put on by PFLAG—Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays. The police are considering whether to press charges.”

  For the umpteenth time that week, my mind was reeling. Stillman was gone, along with Armstrong and Flatley. It was shocking news, but at the same time it felt like justice had been done. Then again, it brought some serious consequences for our basketball team.

  “I don’t have to tell you that this will obviously hurt our chances of winning the regionals,” the coach continued.

  Heads nodded all around.

  “But you know,” he added, “some things are more important than winning and even more important than basketball itself. That’s a lesson we’ve all learned this week, I think.”

  These were words I had never expected to hear from Coach Wayne Williams. I had played four years for him. I had long thought basketball—and winning—were more important to the man than absolutely everything else. But I had to admire him for one thing: He wasn’t babying big Ben Stillman any longer.

  The fact the police had picked out Stillman from the videotape instantly made my life a little easier. I no longer had to worry about going to Mr. Jensen or about what people would think about me turning in my teammate.

  In that sense, I was relieved. But it didn’t change the fact that basketball at Sainsbury had been radically altered. With Ben Stillman on the team, we had been city and regional favorites. Now we would be hard-pressed to make the playoffs. And it didn’t change the fact that I hadn’t exactly been a good friend to Lukas. Stillman and his buddies had committed the vandalism on Luke’s locker, but I was the one who had turned my back on him for years.