Cameron D. James

“Yo, Corbin, you coming to the party tonight or what?” Brian shouted at me.

I stepped back from my locker as I pulled off my jersey so I could look past half the team to Brian. “It’s a Sunday!” I shouted back.

“It’s the summer, dumbass!” He balled up his sweaty jersey and threw it at me; I ducked before it could smack me in the face.

“You know what it’s like living with the Sarge!” I said. I didn’t really want to go to the party, but at least I had an ironclad excuse.

“Bah!” he shouted, waving his hand dismissively at me. “He’s got a stick up his ass and it looks like you do too.”

The locker room banter soon moved away from my inability to attend Brian’s party and onto which cheerleaders had the best tits. I shook my head as I pulled off the rest of my gear; I didn’t like to point out how I was different than all the other guys, because I didn’t think about breasts all day.

I wrapped my towel around my waist and hurried past the other guys and into the shower room. I liked being either the first person or the last. It just made things...easier. With that debate about tits, I knew the guys would be out by the lockers for several minutes more. Pretty soon they’d start bragging about who’d seen those tits without a shirt. Then they’d brag about who’d lost their virginity already.

It was all useless talk. Not my thing.

I showered quickly, rinsing off all the sweat and then using body wash to make myself both clean and better smelling. I needed to be my best for today.

By the time some of the other guys came to the showers, I was just finishing up. With one more rinse, I shut off the shower and towel dried myself, hurrying back to the lockers before my eyes strayed where they shouldn’t go. The last thing I needed were rumors about me.

When I got back to my locker, pretty much everyone was in the showers or just gathering their things to head there. All except for one guy. Andrew.

I did my best to ignore him as I opened my locker and pulled my clean clothes out, keeping my towel tightly clinched around my waist. While the other guys liked to strut around and wave things about, I kept it tightly under wraps. I wouldn’t want the wrong thing to happen.

I discreetly glanced Andrew’s way before dropping my towel and hurrying into my briefs, ensuring he wasn’t looking at me. After that, I whipped my pants on as fast as I could. Then I slowed down to a normal pace, dressing casually.

Turning toward Andrew, I saw that he was still sitting on the bench, wringing his hands and staring at them.

“You okay, man?” I asked.

Andrew and I didn’t talk much so I didn’t really know him. He was new to my school—his family moved here from Ohio back in the spring—and with him joining the football team at the end of June, this summer training camp was really the most time I’d spent with him the entire time I’d known him. I knew very little about him; he was the same age as me and we were in a few classes together, he was a very quiet and introverted guy, and he didn’t seem to have many friends.

He looked up at me with eyes that seemed frightened, though I could tell he was trying to portray the image that everything was alright. “Yeah, I am,” he said. He gave me a weak smile.

I pulled a clean shirt over my head and tugged it down, then sat next to Andrew. “Are you...are you sure? Because you don’t seem it.”

From the showers around the corner, a bunch of the guys suddenly laughed and hooted. Andrew’s slightly-panicked gaze flickered to the doorway behind me, then back to my eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, “don’t worry about me.”

He stood up and started taking off his uniform, but he was doing so very slowly. Like he was delaying heading into the shower.

Then it clicked.

He was...like me. I was sure of it.