Winger

times.”

“Sometimes, don’t you just ever feel like screaming, like Screaming Ned?” I asked.

Joey laughed out loud, “Sometimes I feel like driving back to Bannock and finding him at that donut shop just so I can kick the shit out of him.”

Then I laughed too. “That was one of the most amazing nights ever.”

“Yeah.”

I felt better.

We walked back to O-Hall and kicked off our shoes before opening the door and climbing upstairs. I was afraid we’d run into Mrs. Singer, but then I thought she just had this certain thing for zeroing in on me, so Joey was like a protective charm against her.

I said good night and thanks, and we hugged—a guy hug, okay? with the patting on the back and stuff—and Joey slipped into his room.

And as I was walking down the hallway to my room, I saw that Casey Palmer had been watching me, just standing in front of his door with his arms folded, like he was pissed off and wanted to fight.

He whispered, “That explains it. What were you guys out doing tonight, little fucking faggot?”

Man, I thought, you have some balls saying shit like that to anyone.

I walked past where Casey was standing.

Then I stopped and said, “Don’t be stupid, Palmer.”

“I fucking hate you queers. I’m sick of all the shit Joey pulls around here. Someone needs to straighten his shit out.”

Nick Matthews opened the door to their room and stepped out into the hallway, shirtless and wearing only his boxers. Nick was a fat offensive lineman with a tattoo of a skull on his hairy shoulder.

“We should fuck these little queers up, like you said, Case.”

I glanced back toward Joey’s door. I wished he’d been there to hear what Nick and Casey said, but I was also glad he wasn’t. It would have been a terrible fight, right then and there.

And I can’t even explain how much I wanted to rip into Casey about what I knew, and out him in front of his hairy, tattooed roommate, but I literally bit down on my tongue and went to bed without saying another word.

Chapter Eighty-Five

SEANIE AVOIDED ME THE WHOLE next day. He wouldn’t talk to me in Conditioning or even at our team meeting at the end of the day.

We didn’t have practice on Halloween. Coach let us out early. Most of the guys on the team didn’t live in O- Hall. That meant they were all going to the dinner party, while the O-Hall boys would be the only twelve kids eating in the mess hall and then going home.

Alone.

At least some of us had costumes. And I knew that Joey and Kevin were going to do whatever they could to make sure we all had something to laugh about that night. So I just tried to not think about what Annie was going to be doing without me.

But, of course, that was like trying to not think about getting kicked in the balls right as you’re watching that foot make contact.

Things like this were really the worst part of being assigned to O-Hall, because as Joey, Kevin, and I left the mess hall after our quiet dinner, we could all hear the sound of the music coming from the activities center.

And I’m not going to lie about it, but even though Annie and I had made our commitment to each other, the sound of that music was eating me up on the walk back to my room.

I didn’t say anything to Joey about running into Casey the night before.

I probably should have, now that I think about it, but at the time, I just thought it would make Joey want to fight him. But when we got back to O-Hall and we saw the painfully unhot Mary-Todd-Mrs.-Singer standing on the stairs (which was the first time I’d ever seen Mrs. Singer in the presence of any of the other guys, so I was a little relieved to finally know she was real), I found out something that was almost unbelievable.

“Mr. Farrow is not here this evening,” she said. “He’s left me in charge.”

Which, I thought, meant she actually was going to cook me and eat me.

“I don’t care what you boys do. Just stay off my floor and keep the noise down, and none of us will get into trouble. Correct?”

I looked at Kevin and Joey.

They heard it too.

So, to me, the “I don’t care what you boys do” part was as good as a permission slip for us to go to the dance.

The Wild Boy of Bainbridge Island was ready to break free.

We ran upstairs to dig out the costumes.

“I think she killed Mr. Farrow,” I said. “Or she’s got him chained to her bed.”

Then Kevin said, “Maybe we should have stalled her a little longer to give him a chance to finish chewing off his arm, then.”

Chapter Eighty-Six

SO THERE I WAS, STANDING in the middle of the floor, wearing absolutely nothing but those Pokemon briefs, when the door pushed opened and Chas and Casey walked in.

Chas just stared at me and shook his head.

“What?” I said.

But it really did creep me out the way that Casey looked at me, especially considering what I knew about him, and what he obviously thought about me and Joey, too.

God! That was all I needed after the crap I’d been through that week, to have some angry, horny, gay football player chasing after me, or jealously thinking I’d been having sex with the guy he was attracted to.

Casey Palmer was a dangerous psychopath.

“Your costumes are there in the cubby,” I said. “Have fun. You’re going to like what we got.”

Joey and I had left a bag marked CHAS, and one marked PALMER, inside my closet after we separated out the goods.

I didn’t really want to be alone with them when they opened the bags and saw what we got for them to wear, so I was glad when the convict-striped Joey appeared down the hallway, walking toward my open door.

“Joey!” I called, and he came over.

“You’re not going like that, are you, Ryan Dean?” he said.

I just gave Joey a dirty look, but I noticed as Casey eyed him, then looked back at me, back and forth, like he was watching a tennis match or something. And I wanted to say, Dude, you have it so fucking wrong about me and Joey, you stupid moron, but it was so obvious what he was thinking.

He was burning up. I could see him turning red, how his hands shook.

Like he was actually jealous of me, and in a totally, obviously gay way, too. I couldn’t decide whether it was funny, scary, or what.

I pulled the Wild Boy leopard skin up over my legs and tied the single strap on my shoulder. I had to tie it pretty loose, because the fake-jagged-cut bottom barely covered my nuts.

I thought it was perfect.

“Oh, yeah, Annie will dig this,” I said, hoping that Casey was paying attention to the fact that I wasn’t talking about a guy.