Errol’s behavior and Duffy’s silent observation put me and the rest of the team in a foul mood, and our grumpiness seemed to get sucked up into the sky and seed the weather. Slate-colored clouds were gnarling themselves above the fields by the time we ran end-of-practice conditioning sprints. We heard the first thunder rip while we were showering, and at dinner the rain hammered Training Table’s roof so fiercely it was difficult to hear what people said. Flash flood warnings were issued, and the coaches decided it was too dangerous to drive back to the Hay for the last round of meetings, so we separated into our position groups right there in the dining hall, talked a few minutes, and then broke up for the night.
We bunched at Training Table’s open double doors and looked out at the rain falling in wind-ruffled sheets. In groups of six or seven, players at the front of the bottleneck girded themselves and sprinted out to the parking lot, and when it was my turn I ran for Devonté’s car. He had been giving me rides all day, and I took it for granted he was saving me a seat now. But as I stamped into the flooded lot I saw his Grand Marquis already pulling away.
I ran over to the driver’s side window of Chase’s truck and knocked frantically. He rolled down his window, and I saw that Errol was sitting in the passenger seat.
—Can I come with you? I asked.
—Sure! Chase said, smiling. Got plenty of room in the bed.
The truck’s bed had two inches of standing water. I shook my head and turned around, hunching in the downpour as I tried to see who else I could ride with.
—Come on, Errol told Chase. You gonna give my man pneumonia.
I turned back around. Chase was annoyed, but I could see he wouldn’t contradict Errol.
—Fine, he told me. Ride bitch.
“Bitch” meant sitting on the middle of the back bench seat, squeezed between Scan and J2. Chase pulled out of the parking lot, and despite the dangerous conditions he sped through Central Campus, delighting in the high fins of water his oversized tires made in the flooded street, music blasting at its usual aneurysm-inducing level.
—I can’t with that shit, Errol said, turning down the music. My nerves are already on edge like a motherfucker.
I had never seen someone touch Chase’s stereo without Chase acting like the honor of all McGerrin men had been challenged; but not only did Chase not turn the music up again, he sought to comfort Errol.
—You’ll be good, he said. Just remember, they brought you here for a reason.
Errol shrugged, looking out the window.
—I fuckin’ hate that Duffy bama, he said.
In the Marriott parking lot we sprinted one last time through the storm. The front desk folks had fresh towels waiting, and we dried ourselves as we rode the elevator upstairs. I got off on the same floor as Errol and Chase.
—You want anything from the vending machine? Chase asked Errol.
—Nah, I’m good.
Chase opened his mouth, then closed it again, checking himself for some reason. He walked past the door to their room, toward the alcove at the end of the hall that housed the vending machine.
Reshawn was supposed to be my roommate during camp, which made me the only player on the team who would be sleeping alone. In the room I stripped off my clothes and left them in a wet heap on the carpet, and as I got a fresh towel from the bathroom I wondered whether Chase was going to buy Errol something from the vending machine anyway, in case he changed his mind. That’s the kind of thing I’d done all the time with my own crushes, and the thought of Chase standing in front of the vending machine, agonizing over whether Errol might prefer a Snickers or a bag of Cheez-Its, filled me with a tenderness I hadn’t thought I would ever feel toward that boy again. I had spent the past nine months whittling Chase down to the enemy I’d needed him to be, the gay-bashing bully, obstacle to my football dreams; but thanks to Thao’s story he was regaining a roundness, a three-dimensionality, I knew I’d never be able to banish.
I wasn’t a saint, though, and while my hatred for Chase might have been in retreat, my competitiveness with him decidedly was not, and as I finished toweling off in the bathroom I felt a sudden, hot urge to do something I knew Chase wouldn’t be able to. I walked back to the main part of the room and dialed Thao.
—Where are you? I asked him.
—We just got back from dinner. It’s biblical out there.
—No, where are you right now?
—In my room.
I was nervous, terribly nervous, that what I was about to ask would blow my door off its hinges, knock down the walls, allow my teammates to come streaming in here to murder me. But my urge was much stronger, and it was only mounting as I kept thinking of Chase and his hopeless crush on Errol.
—I’m naked, I said, starting to fondle myself.
—Oh?
—What are you wearing?
There was a pause, background rustling. I worried I’d gone too far, disrespected the boundaries Thao had drawn these last weeks. But then he returned to the phone, slightly out of breath.
—Sorry, he said. I needed to lock my door.
The world was renewed when I stepped into the Marriott lot the next morning. The two orgasms I’d shared with Thao had allowed
