Page 2 of Until He Scores

James wasn’t going to tell. If he did, he was stupid. Once the teachers learned the kids bullied others about their parent’s dying, they didn’t care what came after. James was toast if Pope told anyone. “Looks like your puppy saved you.” James barked like a rabid dog as he ran away, laughing as if he’d won.

Heat filled my cheeks. Embarrassment roared to life within me. I hadn’t meant to make Pope look weak or whatever, I’d only tried to help. “Sorry.”

“They’re pricks,” Pope said, glancing in James’ direction. “Besides, can’t mess up my hands before the big game.”

I grinned. “I still can’t believe we’re in the championship game. It’s going to be epic.” A lightness settled within me along with excitement and anticipation. We were playing for the 8U title this weekend. Best part, we were playing in the practice facility the NashvilleThunderbirdsused before their games.

“I’m getting a picture with Tomas Vokoun,” Pope said. “From what I read; theThunderbirdsare going to be there after the game. So, I’m going to go find him before we leave.”

“That’s really cool. I’m going to ask my parents if we can watch them warm up before the game,” I replied, shoving my hands into the pockets of my P.E. shorts. “We should totally do a sleepover. Or ask my parents if we can stay for the game.”

“You don’t want to go to the pizza party afterwards?” Pope tilted his head.

“Nah. That’s for babies. If we’re going to be champs, we should act like it.” I puffed out my chest. “Crack open a cold one” —aka a soda— “and watch the game.”

Pope chuckled. “You’re on. We’re going to win the game then we’re going to watch theThunderbirdskick major ass.”

Thierry, age fourteen...

I don’t know what happened. No, that’s a lie. I promised I’d never lie about anything. More importantly, the feelings inside of me said I had to tell the truth, no matter the consequences. No matter what it cost me in the end.

I kissed Pope.

That unsettled feeling welled up in my chest last night while we were watching movies together, again. We had practice with our youth team and came back to my house for a little horror movie marathon. Just like old times, you know? Only something changed. I liked seeing Pope now. There was an indescribable flutter in my stomach. An ache in my chest. The feeling of freefalling on a rollercoaster while also being so excited, I thought I’d pass out.

More than the rush of adrenaline the second I stepped out onto the ice.

Like always we joked and jabbed at each other while we stripped out of uniforms and pads before hopping into the shower. Pope was changing. He was growing—everywhere. So was I, but he filled out. We weren’t kids anymore. The realizationdawned on me when I cut my gaze in his direction while he laughed at some joke Vance made.

My heart was racing.

I had to play it cool.

I’d always known I was different, and I thought Pope suspected it, but never said a word. As tension radiated through me, I tried my level best to calm down and shower. The quicker I finished, the better off I’d be. No one wanted to be that guy who got his first boner in a shower full of guys, right? My attention continued to pull toward Pope. That ache I felt in the middle of my chest when we first met returned. I couldn’t name the feeling exactly, other than my world was brighter when he was around. Heard some of the adults talking about theBoomand what it meant. Reckon that could be what I was feeling.

But should I be?

Did this so-calledBoominclude people like me? I hadn’t met many people who felt the way I did, though I had heard the cruel things adults said about people like me. They really hated us. I guess it’s why I never felt comfortable telling my mom and dad. I was worried they’d disown me. Same went for Pope. If I acknowledged what I thought he might know, he might hate me, and I didn’t know what I’d do if that happened.

Still, sitting in the basement, a box of pizza, a six-pack of soda, and two bowls of popcorn surrounding us, my palms were sweaty, and my breathing picked up. I couldn’t stop looking at him, like this was a do or die mission or something. He was so... pretty. Handsome. Ugh, I don’t know what to call it, but I liked the shape of his face. His lips. I knew how many times he’d broken his nose and how he got the cut on his chin. The color of his eyes were so dark they were like broken pieces of the highest quality obsidian.

Most importantly, I coveted the fact he was my best friend.

“You okay over there?” Pope glanced at me. “You look a little nervous. Is the movie too scary?”

I swallowed hard. “Nope. Just fine.” I grabbed a piece of pizza, then laughed. “You’re so weird.”

Pope snorted. “You’re weirder.” He gave my shoulder a playful shove before grabbing a slice, too.

We were two movies deep before we found a film that scared the crap out of both of us. That’s when it happened. We’d been nodding off intermittently, exhausted from practice and school, so I’d missed what led up to the scene where the girl screamed. Pope and I jumped, grabbing onto one another. I don’t know who pulled the sheet over our heads, if it was me or Pope, but we’d been so close to each other. Our breath smelled like butter, garlic and sugar, a combination of what we’d eaten and drank. He looked at me, and I looked at him.

Pope didn’t say a word as our breath mingled. He licked his lips, staring at me, and I did it. I pressed my mouth to his and counted to five then sat back. He stared at me, shocked. Heat filled my cheeks. I was embarrassed because I’d kissed my best friend and ashamed because I hadn’t asked permission. What was I supposed to say? Sorry? Please don’t tell my parents?

Instead, I scooted away, afraid of what Pope might do. If he decided to beat me up, I’d deserve it. I had no right to do as I did.

“I think I’m going to bed. How about you take the couch tonight.” Pope eased out from under the sheet and went to the double bed my parents always kept downstairs for us.

“Sure.” I turned off the television, freaking out internally. What had I done? Why? How could I be so stupid?

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