“Shit,” he murmured, pulling the goalkeeper’s gloves off and pinching at his almost blue fingertips.
Steam was already pouring out of the showers, and he stripped the rest of his clothes quickly, grabbed his towel, and ducked under one of the shower heads that gave off a decent spray.
Jared hissed at first, the boiling hot water like a million pins into his cold cold cold skin, and he grit his teeth hard, waiting for his muscles to warm through and start to relax. There was mud on his knees and up his arms, and he watched the first flakes swirl down the drain before scrubbing at the dirt.
“So, Rawell,” someone shouted over the noise of thirty-something pounding showers. Jared groaned internally. This probably wasn’t going to end well.
Jared looked up and pushed wet hair out of his face.
“Who takes it up the ass, you or Hemlock?”
A burst of appreciative snickers followed, and Jared rolled his eyes. He’d barely spoken to Adam since they got to school, apart from a few shouted directions on the soccer pitch. They were keeping a distance from each other in the showers and locker room by mutual, silent agreement, not wanting to invite this very kind of confrontation.
Across the tiled shower room, Jared saw the muscles in Adam’s back tense.
“Why?” Jared drawled slowly. He had to respond to this. Had to cut it out right now, or they’d be targets for the rest of the school year. “You want tips? I’d invite you to watch, Fisher, but I’d probably lose wood.”
The appreciative snickers turned to laughter, and Jared turned around, determined to end this now before it got even bitchier. He finished washing himself off quickly and ducked out of the spray, wrapping the towel around his waist and heading for the locker room before anyone could interrupt.
They didn’t. Jared wasn’t sure what it was—his put-down of Lewis Fisher’s stupid comment, the aura of regality Adam wore like a crown, or if they were actually starting to respect Jared in his own right, but no one said anything to him as he dried off and dressed in his uniform, the air thick with the smell of adolescent aerosols.
By some coincidence, Jared found himself at the door at the same time Adam shouldered his bag and sauntered across. Because he could, and because they were heading in the same direction anyway, Jared threw his arm around Adam’s shoulders and kissed the damp hair on the side of his head.
“You okay?” Adam murmured, reaching up to lightly grasp the hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
If Adam cleared the hall on his own, and kids moved out of Jared’s way, the pair of them together drew looks and gasps and full-on staring as if they were the fucking king and queen of England. Adam’s the queen, Jared decided, and smirked to himself as they walked into the cafeteria.
“You want anything?” Jared offered as he pulled his arm back and took a few steps toward the lunch line.
“Um… get me some fries?”
Jared took that the “please” in that sentence was silent and nodded before moving off to join the line. Unlike some people he didn’t cut in, content to wait for his double serving of fries. He picked up two sodas and his habitual apple, and held the bright blue tray high above the other kids as he weaved between tables and stuck-out legs.
“I sincerely hope you’re not expecting me to share those,” Adam said as Jared dumped the tray in front of him.
“Oh, get over yourself,” Jared said and snatched a fry from the top of the mountainous pile.
Adam sniffed and took the Dr Pepper, not waiting for Jared to offer him the choice between the two cans. Under the table, where no one could see, Jared bumped their knees together. Adam said nothing, didn’t react at all other than the gentle bump back. They were in this together.
“God, you two are disgusting,” Clare said, sliding into her seat next to Chris with a large protein shake travel mug full of a suspicious green liquid. The mug had a straw attached, and Clare flipped it up and took a delicate sip of the concoction.
“I think they’re adorable,” Ryder said from across the table. “What are you drinking?”
“Kale and cucumber juice,” Clare said, not missing a beat. “I want to lose three pounds.”
“Now, that’s disgusting,” Adam told her. He dunked two fries into ketchup and ate them with relish.
“So, are you two, like, a couple now?” Ryder asked.
Jared looked at Adam and shrugged. “Sure. If you like.”
“What about Dylan?”
Clare’s voice was far, far too innocent for Jared’s liking. He plastered a serene, slightly confused expression on his face, and looked to Ryder like she might know what Clare was talking about.
“What, Dylan my tutor? What does he have to do with anything?”
Jared added a little laugh to the end of the sentence and knew instinctively this was a conversation he’d have to have with Adam at some point. Full disclosure. No more secrets.
“Oh,” Clare said with a little shrug. “I thought you two were all cozy close, that’s all.”
“Sure. We’re friends. Adam’s my boyfriend. Sort of how like you’re friends with Chris, right?”
There was a silence, broken by a snort of laughter, then Adam hit Jared on the arm and asked him something about chipping a soccer ball to get some power behind it.
That night, Adam ordered dinner from a Thai restaurant across the bridge, and they sat in his living room, eating on the floor with the food spread on the coffee table in front of them. Jared had a moment of seeing what their lives could be like in this relationship, what possibilities were laid out ahead.
At school, or outside this little suite of rooms, their relationship was visible but understated. No one apart from the two of them needed to know what things were like when they
