Darius the Great Deserves Better - Adib Khorram Page 0,83
only achieved once, in this weird episode of Voyager where Captain Janeway and Lieutenant Paris ended up mutating into weird salamander things after breaking the transwarp threshold—I didn’t see how hyperdrive could possibly be faster.)
“Hey,” James said as we stretched our calves before the game. “Can I ask you something kind of personal?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“You and your boyfriend were together for like three months, right?”
“Four.”
“Did you two ever . . . uh . . .”
James had really pale skin, so when he blushed, it was super obvious.
My own face reddened in sympathy.
“Dude.”
“It’s just, I don’t know . . . when’s the right time?”
I shrugged.
“Don’t ask me. We never did anything other than kissing.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed the frog trying to hop its way out of my esophagus. “Landon wanted to. But I wasn’t ready.”
“Oh.”
“Sorry I can’t help.”
“No!” He smiled, and his shoulders unclenched. “That actually helps a lot. Me and Katie, we haven’t done anything yet either. Except kissing. I was just worried, I guess.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It just seemed like we were supposed to want it.”
I nodded. “As long as you talk about it. You have to communicate.”
James clapped me on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. How come we were never friends before this year?”
We had known each other since middle school.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t good at making friends, I guess.”
“That’s on me too.” He glanced at his watch, which he wore on his left wrist even though he was left-handed. “Crap, gotta take a PGP.”
I snorted.
“Good luck.”
“Don’t need it,” he said, and patted his stomach.
PGP was code for Pre-Game Poop. A lot of guys did that. I wasn’t sure if it was because of running during warm-ups, or nerves, or too much food, or what. I had never experienced the phenomenon.
I retied my shoelaces and nearly bumped into Chip when I stood.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“It’s cool,” Chip said. “James going for a PGP?”
“Yeah.”
Chip chuckled.
For a second, it was like we were friends again.
I missed that ease.
I missed being friends with Chip.
“Well.” He swallowed.
“Yeah.”
* * *
It turns out, having your opponents named after a Star Trek character wasn’t as much of a good luck charm as I had hoped.
Their offense was devastating, but we managed to hold them off and keep them from scoring. Gabe and James didn’t have any luck getting through, and we ended up in another shoot-out.
By that point, Christian and Diego were both exhausted. We all were. So were the Riker Wombats (a Level Ten Mascot Choice, to be sure).
They won the coin toss and shot first. Christian saved the first four but, to the wild cheers of the home crowd, the fifth one scored.
We hadn’t made any goals, and Chip was our last chance.
He didn’t grin as he approached the ball. His jaw was set. Sweat drenched his jersey, highlighting the valley his spine made between his back muscles.
He took a deep breath and made his move: a tricky inside shot to the goalie’s left. It would’ve gone in too, if it hadn’t just barely glanced off the goalpost.
Our team didn’t make a sound—we were all still holding our breath, even as the whistle sounded—but the Riker stands exploded.
We lost.
* * *
I think we were all too tired to be sad. We shook hands, bumped fists, congratulated the other team. We trudged back to the stands in silence, some guys with their arms across each other’s shoulders, others in Surrender Cobra.
Chip was staring at his toes, sort of kicking the ground with each step. His shoulders were slumped.
I hated seeing him like that.
I wasn’t sure why I did it—really, I wasn’t—but I hung back and, when he came close, I put my arm over his shoulder.
It was the kind of thing Sohrab did to me, when I was upset. Or when I was happy, for that matter.
Sohrab just did that kind of thing whenever. Like it was a thing guys could do.
And I supposed, if Chip really did like me, maybe it was weird and unfair to do that to him.
To touch him like that.
But in that moment, I really did want to be his friend.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” he mumbled.
“Tough game.”
“Yeah.”
But he didn’t say anything else, and after a moment I got to feeling really weird.
Also, we were both super sweaty, and hot, and that made me feel a lot of things that I wasn’t ready to feel.
So I let Chip go and angled toward the stands, where Mom, Dad, and Laleh were waiting for me.