Jumbo (15 page)

“Here, Mitch. Can I hop under?” Mitchell felt a hand on his back and he moved, turning his head and seeing Tadd, but unable to connect him with any thought. He pushed himself off the wall, and as the two of them passed, the back of Mitchell’s hand slid across Tadd’s cock.

No, Mitchell couldn’t handle it. There was no way he could stand here. Tadd handed him the soap and Mitchell took it, looking at it but unable to think what it was or what he was supposed to do with it. He became aware of the guys’ voices echoing, the sound of the showers cut in, and then he became aware of the steam, billowing around his body. The showers. Soap. Antiseptic. Automatically he began soaping his chest, though this wasn’t the way he usually began. He lifted his arms and soaped his armpits. He soaped his shoulders and the back of his neck. He soaped his chest again, and looked up to see Tyler staring at him, watching him closely. Mitchell made a conscious effort to get a grip on himself. He soaped his groin, his hard little cock, that was beautiful, apparently, beautiful to someone.

Mitchell soaped his lower back. His ass. He began on his thighs and worked down to his feet.

“You want to hop under?” Tyler said.

Mitchell nodded. He had a boner. Tyler. Don’t poke your boner into Tyler’s ass. He stepped forward into the shower and found that he was still holding the soap. He handed it to Tadd and Tadd took it, though Mitchell didn’t look at his face. He steadied himself on the wall again and heard Tadd say, “I think he’s got a middle ear infection.”

“Hell, no.”

“He’s been unsteady all afternoon.”

“Shit, no. We’ve got a good chance of winning this medley. Jumbo,” Tyler said.

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Mitchell pushed himself off the wall and began sluicing water over his body, though he couldn’t face Tyler or Tadd. The guys’ voices seemed to be coming from miles away, as though he was hearing them underwater. Was he drowning?

Suddenly, the sounds cut in clear again and Mitchell let his head fall forward. Tyler gripped his elbow.

“Shit, Jumbo, you don’t look too well.”

“I’m okay,” Mitchell said, lifting his head and looking at Tyler. Tyler was beautiful. The room was startling in its clarity. Everything was crystal clear, the echoing, buffeting sounds of voices, laughter, and running water. He turned his head and looked along the showers at the other guys. They were beautiful, all of them. Even Mason. Robby Michaels. Jack. Hell, what sort of world had he stepped into? He shook his head vigorously and quickly washed off the rest of the soap.

“Here,” he said to Tyler. “You can hop back under.”

“I’m going to soap myself up if you want to jump in here, Jumbo.”

Mitchell glanced at Tadd, made eye-contact, and saw that look of his again, though it was somehow different now, somehow more assured, and it seemed to be boring into Mitchell. Hell, Mitchell didn’t know if he could really be with Tadd, if he could really do things with him. He had a sudden sense again of Tadd as someone frightening. Mitchell was afraid of him.

He stepped under the shower and turned to watch Tadd as he soaped his body. Tadd’s cock was thick and long and full, still hanging, but trying to rise. Tadd must have been working to control it, working to keep it down by thinking anything, something awful perhaps. He didn’t look up at Mitchell again until he had finished with the soap. Mitchell stepped forward, though as he passed Tadd, Tadd gripped his elbow. “Hang back till last,” he said.

Mitchell nodded, moving his head away from Tadd’s, though as he looked up he saw Mason watching him closely. Mason’s gaze shifted to Tadd and then back to Mitchell again. He said something to Robby Michaels, speaking closely into his ear, though after he had said it, Robby drew his head back and made a face, as though Mason must be crazy. Robby glanced at Tadd and Mitchell and frowned, before looking at Mason again and saying something that looked like, “No way.”

33

The afternoon wore on. One by one the guys moved from the showers to the lockers, their voices quieter now. A shower was turned off on Mitchell’s left, another on his right. Tyler stepped out and Mitchell moved into his shower. Luke cut his shower and reached for his towel, stretching onto his toes, his pale ass a study in miraculous curves.

And then there were three. Tadd, Mitchell — and Mason. Mason cut his shower and Tadd said loudly, “You feeling better now?”

“Yeah.”

“You think it really is an infection?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I just felt dizzy.”

They watched Mason walking away, watched him as he ripped his towel from the hook and turned toward the lockers.

Tadd turned around and put his hands against the wall, letting the water run through his hair, though he had to stand at an angle to get his head under the spray. Mitchell waited, his head back in the shower and his eyes closed to slits, watching for Mason.

Finally, Tadd turned off his shower. He stepped out and grabbed his towel. Then he put his head round into the locker aisle. He turned back to Mitchell and gave him a thumbs up.

Mitchell turned the shower off and shook his head, shaking the water out of his hair. He stepped across and grabbed his towel, and as he stepped around to the lockers, he saw Tadd standing there, still wet, and with an enormous jutting erection. Tadd gripped Mitchell roughly, pulling his towel out of his hand and throwing it onto a bench. He wrapped his arms around Mitchell, slid his hands under Mitchell’s ass and lifted him. Mitchell felt his legs dangling. Tadd steadied him with a hand on his back, the other between his legs, holding him off the ground. And then Tadd moved his head forward and began to kiss Mitchell hungrily. They bit at each other’s lips and Tadd slipped his tongue in. They sucked together, their tongues locked and sliding. Mitchell caught a movement, a flash of someone, something, though at that moment Tadd spun Mitchell around and dropped him. Mitchell landed hard on his ass.

He had seen what it was: Mason, with his phone, filming them, though Mitchell only got a glimpse as Tadd moved toward Mason and Mason turned to run.

Mitchell sat on the concrete floor. Stunned. He had hurt himself. Slowly, he tried to pick himself up, though at that moment Tadd returned, his arm around Mason’s throat. Tadd ripped the phone out of Mason’s hand and tossed it to Mitchell. Mitchell caught it.

“Delete it,” Tadd said.

Mitchell stumbled to his feet, shifting his eyes from the phone to Tadd, who now slammed Mason up against the lockers. With an enormous crash of sound, he lifted Mason by the neck and banged his head against the lockers.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” Tadd said. “I said to leave this shit alone. I said if you ever,” and here he banged Mason’s head again, “ever do this shit again,” another bang, “you’ll have to deal with me.”

He let Mason go and Mason struck out with a fist, connecting with the side of Tadd’s head. Automatically, Tadd struck back. He struck Mason a hard blow, another one, and it was just like that other time, Tadd moving forward and raining blow after blow onto Mason’s face.

Mitchell backed away as Mason stumbled toward him. Mason’s head jerked with every blow. Mitchell had the phone in his hand, but his hands were shaking.

Tadd struck Mason a final time. Mason fell backwards. His head hit the ground with a crack.

Mitchell peed. A little burst of pee that he had no control over spluttered onto Mason’s face, some of it dribbling into Mason’s open mouth.

Mitchell looked up at Tadd. Tadd was breathing heavily, his cock swinging, his shoulders red. Mitchell felt his thighs shudder, sinking inwards, and he peed again, a little more forcefully, splashing a line along the length of Mason’s body, from his groin to his forehead.

Tadd lifted his head, and for one terrible moment, Mitchell thought that he was next, that Tadd was going to step over Mason and start in on him.

Tadd smiled, a crazy, lopsided smile.

“You peed on him.”

“I couldn’t help it,” he said. “I was scared.” And he felt his cock tucking tightly into his body.

Tadd turned his head toward Mason, his hands on his hips.

“Oh, shit,” he said.

Mitchell lifted the phone and tried to delete the movie, but he couldn’t control his hands. He sat down and felt his thighs sliding against each other, his knees jittering together. He put the phone beside him and swallowed, his eyes wide.

“Oh, hell. Is he breathing?”

Mitchell nodded.

“Oh, hell,” Tadd said again, sitting down on a bench and putting his head into his hands.

“You think we should call an ambulance?”

Tadd didn’t answer.

“Maybe we should dial 911.”

“Can you leave it for a moment? See if he comes around?”

“Should we put some water on his face?”

Tadd shrugged.

Mitchell picked up the phone again and managed to delete the movie, seeing it first from Mason’s perspective: the two of them naked, Tadd’s hand under Mitchell’s ass, his legs dangling, the two of them kissing.

Mason groaned. He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. Slowly he began to lift himself, though Tadd got up and pulled him to his feet.

“I’ll drive you to the hospital, Mason.”

Mason’s face was red, his lip cut. He opened his mouth and slapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Tadd settled him onto a bench, tore his locker open, and began to dress quickly. Mitchell figured he should do the same.

“I’ll pay for it — whatever it costs, Mason. But you keep your mouth shut, you hear me?”

Mason nodded dumbly.

“There’s two of us here. We saw what happened.” He turned to Mitchell. “Didn’t we, Mitchell?”

Mitchell nodded and swallowed, pulling on his underpants.

A few minutes later, they were out in the lot, Tadd supporting Mason. He settled him into the Audi just as Mitchell’s dad pulled in.

“See you later,” Tadd said. He gave Mitchell that look again, a look that Mitchell couldn’t now mistake the meaning of.

But what was going to happen to Tadd? Was he going to be suspended? Expelled? Would charges be laid? Would Mason tell what he had seen despite any reaction he might expect from Tadd?

“How you doing?” Mitchell’s father said.

“Not bad.”

“You look a little pale.”

“I’m okay.” His hands were still shaking, and he needed to use the bathroom.

“How was your day?”

How
was
his day? Wonderful and dreadful. Beautiful and terrible.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

At least he thought so.

34

That night, Tadd rang. Mitchell was finishing up with his homework, though it was taking him forever. He couldn’t concentrate. Every two minutes he found himself replaying what had happened in the locker room, remembering how he had stood there, watching Tadd land blow after blow onto Mason, his face rigid with anger.

When the phone rang Mitchell flinched. He didn’t know where Tadd had got his number.

“Luke.”

“Oh.” Mitchell paused. “Did Luke say anything about why you wanted it?”

“No.”

“It’s just that ... I told him I’d found someone new, someone I was interested in.”

“Someone new?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, who was it before me?”

“Luke.”

“Luke?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you thought it was him — with the notes?”

“Yeah.”

“O-
kay
.”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that ... Luke? Really?”

“Yeah. Don’t you like him?”

“Sure, I like him. It’s just that — oh, it’s probably just me.”

There was an uncomfortable pause in the conversation. Mitchell was all at once aware of how strange it was to be speaking to Tadd like this. It was only a few hours since he had slipped the note into Tadd’s locker — and then the kiss, Tadd telling him he loved him. Mason. All of it seemed unreal.

“I’m sorry about today — with Mason,” Tadd said. “It’s just .... You know I wouldn’t do anything like that to you, don’t you?”

Mitchell swallowed, but he didn’t know. “Yeah,” he said.

“I mean it, Mitch. I couldn’t ever hurt you.”

Again Mitchell swallowed, and saw Tadd’s face in his mind again, a study in anger as he moved toward Mason, striking determinedly.

“You’re not saying anything.”

“No. I ....”

“What?”

“I’m afraid of you.”

“Afraid of me?”

“Yeah.” Mitchell hesitated. “You’re so — big.”

“You mean ....”

“No. I just mean you’re a big person. You tower over me. I can’t even ... couldn’t even wrap my arms around your shoulders — this afternoon.”

“If you don’t want me, Mitch, then just say so.”

“No. I do. I think I do.”

“You think you do?”

Mitchell remained silent.

“Mitchell.”

“What?”

“Do you think I could come around? You could come back to my place — if you want. We don’t have to ... do anything. I mean — I don’t even want to right now — not after this afternoon.”

Silence.

“Mitch?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there something wrong?”

Mitchell told himself he was being stupid. “You can come around.”

“Yeah?” Tadd sounded as though he’d just won the lottery.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well I’ll come over then.”

“Right now?”

“Is that okay?”

Mitchell took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said.

Mitchell walked into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He felt different somehow. Jittery. All of it was too much. He stared at his face in the mirror and frowned. He wondered what Tadd could see in him. Slowly, he drew off his clothes and stepped into the shower.

35

When Mitchell came out of the bathroom, someone was knocking on his bedroom door. He opened it with a towel around his hips. It was Tadd, and in the corridor Pete, who must have let him into the house. Tadd’s eyes opened wide at the sight of Mitchell in a towel.

Mitchell pulled the door back and let Tadd into the room, locking it after him.

“If you want me to ...?”