Winger

I COULDN’T SLEEP THAT NIGHT.

I just lay there on the top bunk and stared up at the emptiness between me and the ceiling, thinking about what Seanie had said, how we all used to be friends, and how his voice had a tone in it like he blamed me for doing something that I don’t think was entirely under my control.

This time.

I listened to Chas sleeping and wondered how I’d managed to live this long sharing a room with him. I wanted to ask him about Megan, but I knew those would likely be the final words spoken on this earth by Ryan Dean West.

For three days, Chas hadn’t said one word to me, but Megan looked so sad and it made me feel terrible, because deep down I didn’t see her as just some hot girl. I really did like her. I really did think she was a great person. I just knew better than to get too close to her again.

RYAN DEAN WEST 2: Did you actually just say that to yourself—that you don’t see Megan Renshaw as just some hot girl?

RYAN DEAN WEST 1: I can’t help it. Something’s changing in me.

RYAN DEAN WEST 2: Oh . . . so you finally did decide to join Team Joey.

RYAN DEAN WEST 1: That’s a shitty thing to say.

RYAN DEAN WEST 2: How about Isabel? Isn’t she fuzzy-hot?

RYAN DEAN WEST 1: Shut up.

RYAN DEAN WEST 2: Doc Mom? Mrs. Kurtz? Aren’t they my-best-friend’s-kinky-mom hot?

RYAN DEAN WEST 1: Ugh.

RYAN DEAN WEST 2: How about Annie?

RYAN DEAN WEST 1: If you weren’t me, I’d punch you in the face.

RYAN DEAN WEST 2: Nurse Hickey?

RYAN DEAN WEST 1: Okay. I’ll give you that. Nurse Hickey is a hissing five out of five leaky air-conditioning units on the Ryan Dean West Global Hotness Scale.

RYAN DEAN WEST 2: My man. There is hope for you after all.

(RYAN DEAN WEST 1 wipes the sweat from his forehead.)

RYAN DEAN WEST 2: Loser.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to get my wimpy, feeling-sorry-for-myself ass out of bed.

I slipped on my warm-ups and carried my shoes in one hand so I wouldn’t squeak on the floor, and I left.

In the dark hallway, I ran into Joey as he was coming out of the bathroom.

He whispered, “Are you leaving or something?”

“I have to go outside. I can’t sleep.”

“Dude, I am so beat up from the game, I can’t even lie down. Let me get dressed, and I’ll meet you out there in a minute.”

“Okay.”

I didn’t feel awkward talking to Joey, or being in a situation where we were alone together, and I know that’s a crappy thing for me to even point out in the first place, like I have to defend myself to myself for being best friends with a guy who happens to be gay.

But most guys just got all tense around Joey in normal social situations, like any time when we weren’t out on the pitch and bashing each others’ brains in playing rugby.

You could just see it in the way guys’ shoulders would tighten up, and you could hear it in the way they’d talk—like they never really talked directly to Joey, even if they were asking him something, it always looked like they were talking past him, or to the ground or something, and in really short sentences.

It’s weird, but I noticed it, and I’m sure Joey did too.

I saw him come out from the mudroom, and he let the door close slowly behind him so it didn’t make the slightest sound. Then he sat down on the steps and slipped his shoes on.

“Where are you going?” he said.

I shrugged.

“That witch downstairs didn’t see you, did she?” I said.

“Why are you so scared of her?”

We talked low until we were far enough away from O-Hall.

“Dude, Joey, she does horrible things to me. Trust me. I know she’s a witch or something.”

Joey laughed. “Whatever.” Then he said, “I asked Kevin to come, but once he’s in bed, forget it. It hurts him too much to get in and out of bed, anyway.”

Joey walked slowly and carefully. He limped.

There really isn’t too much in the world that hurts worse than a guy’s body does the night after a rugby game, and the fly half almost always takes more shots than any other player on the field.

I threw a rock out into the lake.

“I caught Mr. Farrow having sex with Mrs. Singer on Monday, when I came back from having my stitches out. How nasty is that?”

Joey laughed. “No fucking way.”

“Dude, don’t tell anyone. At least, that’s what Mr. Farrow begged me. That’s why we were talking on the stairs when you and Kevin came in that day. He even said he’d get me out of O-Hall if I kept quiet about it.”

“Are you going to do it?”

“I asked him not to,” I said. “I wouldn’t last in the boys’ dorm. JP hates me. I think Seanie does now too. It sucks.”

“You push things too far, sometimes, Ryan Dean. Just your luck.”

“I know.”

“But, shit, everyone knows you’re a fighter. You’re not afraid to take on anyone,” Joey said.

“Oh, I’m afraid. But when you have to fight, you have to fight. There’s nothing else you can do.” I threw another rock. “Annie finally told me she’s in love with me.”

“Did you tell her first?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn. You’ve got some guts, Ryan Dean.”

“So, sorry if it seems like we’ve been ignoring everyone else.”

“Dude. It’s pretty obvious.”

Then Joey high-fived me, but it was weak, so we had to do it again.

Not a record breaker, but it was solid.

“At least there’s one thing I haven’t totally screwed up,” I said.

“Yeah.”

Damn, I thought. Joey didn’t have to agree with that. But then again, Joey wasn’t the kind of guy who’d ever lie about things just to make someone feel better.

I sighed. “Yeah. I feel terrible about JP and Seanie. We used to be such good friends. But I couldn’t handle him chasing after Annie like he’s been doing. I should have known she didn’t really care about him. Well, not like that, anyway. God! I am such an idiot. I wish I could just do it all over again. I wish I never got put in O-Hall in the first place, and now it’s like I can’t ever get out.”

Joey threw a rock too.

“Yep,” he said. “You know, nothing ever goes back exactly the way it was. Things just expand and contract. Like the universe, like breathing. But you’ll never fill your lungs up with the same air twice. Sometimes, it would be cool if you could pause and rewind and do over. But I think anyone would get tired of that after one or two