Page 4 of The Locker Room

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kept up a steady stream of banter that eluded Xander as they played.

“What, you think I didn"t see that? That was a feint, I got it… no!

You blew right by me! That"s okay, I"ll getcha… no no no no no, he

shoots, it swishes, hescores!”

Xander was up on him by five shots out of twenty, and having the

time of his life, when there was a sudden smell of food and a voice

across the court.

“Chris? Chris, honey, I"m so sorry I"m late!”

Chris (apparently) slowed down as he was approaching the basket

and turned toward the voice, and Xander took that opportunity to steal

the ball and score. Chris turned to him with a sheepish grin and an “Oh!

Man, that"s no fair!” and Xander blushed.

“Sorry,” he said softly. The smell of food hit him again, and his

vision went a little black. He missed catching the ball on the dribble and

tried to keep his knees steady as he turned to say goodbye to the boy who

had been, for an hour at least, his friend, his family, and his

entertainment, all in one.

But the boy wasn"t going.

“Hey, Mom! Can that kid come home and eat with us? He"s an

amazing player, Mom, you"ve got to see him shoot!”

Xander blushed to the roots of his straight, dark hair, and looked at

his companion with a little bit of awe. He sounded like… like… like a

little kid, the kind who expected someone to answer him when he spoke,

The Locker Room

5

and in Xander"s neighborhood, you didn"t talk to a parent like that,

because it never happened. Ever.

“I don"t know, Christian—it"s late. Maybe someone expects him

home?” The woman had phrased the question like she was expecting

Xander to answer, and Xander fumbled for a moment. He was never

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