Page 18 of The Locker Room
water, and Xanderfinallydropped their clenched hands to his side and
brought his other hand up to wipe away Chris"s tears with his thumb.
“I can do anything if it means I don"t have to leave you,” he said
honestly. “If I can play basketball, it will all be okay.”
Christian leveled him a mutinous, angry look, and Xander
recognized it. He"d shown it to his parents when they told him that if he
didn"t bring up his math grades he"d have to quit the team. He"d shown it
to their dumbfuck World History teacher (soooomuch less cooler than
16
Amy Lane
Coach had been the year before) when she"d commented on Xander"s
torn and oft-worn jeans. He"d shown it to kids at lunch when they
suggested (none too subtly) that maybe he"d want to stop tagging along
with the poor kid, when they had better parties to go to.
“You can"t live there, either,” he said with determination, and
Xander looked at him helplessly. Chris"s parents probablywouldlet
Xander sleep on their couch for forever, but Xander didn"t want that.
Chris… Chris sort ofrespectedhim. Xander didn"t want to be some
uselessthing,just leeching off of Chris"s family. Xander"s sense of these
things was hazy—he only had two reference points. There was the filth
and spareness of his own home, and the sweetness and comfort of
Christian"s. The adults in that home worked in partnership. The adults
thereprovided.Xander didn"t recognize that he was barely fifteen. He
just recognized that if he was ever going to… tobewith Chris, then he
didn"t want to be a leech, or a burden, or a charity case.
He wanted to be a partner.
“An apartment,” he said brightly. “I"ll… we can fake an ID or
something. I can get an apartment. She… she won"t know where I am.
She won"t care. I… I just—” Chris was looking at him with big, bright
eyes, as though he were making sense, as though he really could change
