THE FOLLOWING morning Joel picked Brandon up right on time for once, which meant they didn’t have to make a death-defying drive to get to the pool on time.
Brandon, usually mostly asleep on the drive to the pool, was wide-awake. He’d woken early, worried about what fresh hell Joel had in store for him. Would he taunt and tease Brandon with something more he couldn’t have? That was just cruel, and he couldn’t believe Joel had done that to him the previous day.
But Joel was quieter in the car that morning, seeming somewhat withdrawn, just as Brandon was. Even the music was turned lower than usual. When Joel turned the music off, Brandon’s heart started pounding so hard he was afraid it was trying to make an escape from his chest to run away and hide somewhere.
Not knowing what to say, Brandon just closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Um, dude,” Joel said hesitantly. “About yesterday… you see…. I’m sorry I did those things to you. I thought about it all night last night and I tried to put myself in your position. Not the position of sucking a dick or something like that. I tried to put myself in your position of having to watch a Greek god of a man like myself flaunt his hypermasculinity at me while knowing I could never have it and that the mere sight of it would wind me up so tight I could barely breathe.”
“You have a mighty high opinion of yourself,” Brandon observed drily without looking at Joel.
“Hey, I’ve seen myself in my mirror. I’ve spent hours studying what I look like. Sometimes I even jerk off in the front of the mirror.”
“So what you’re telling me is that you jerk off to the image of a hot man. Interesting. Dude, are you sure you’re not gay? Because really, jerking off to the sight, sound, image of a hot, naked guy pretty much clenches it—it means you’re gay.”
Brandon had clearly winged him.
“Shut up,” Joel growled at him. After a moment of silence, the only sound that of the tires on the bare pavement, Joel continued. “I’m sorry for what I did yesterday. I see now that I was being a real dick, and I’m really sorry I did that to you.”
Brandon looked at Joel for the longest time without saying a word. “Thank you.”
“I’m really sorry, man. I heard what you said, you know, about you not having anyone else to help you out when your dick gets hard. And then I thought about what you said after that about really wanting to have someone, another gay guy, to talk to about stuff.”
“Yeah,” Brandon said softly.
“I feel for you, man. And I want you to know that I did a lot of thinking about you and your situation last night.”
Brandon wanted to joke, but he quite honestly didn’t have any clue what to say, witty, funny, or otherwise, to what Joel had just told him, so he remained silent.
“Thanks, Joel,” Brandon finally said, extending a hand toward his friend for a quick fist bump.
The day’s practice wasn’t a chore so much as a relief. Both guys worked hard, making up for some of what they should have been doing for the last few days while they took it easy. Both were quite pleased with their performance, against their own internal measures as well as against one another the few times they competed.
In the locker room afterward, Joel behaved himself and almost acted a bit chaste, never once flashing Brandon. In fact, Joel kept his back turned almost the entire time and took a relatively quick rinse, and was practically dressed before Brandon was finished with his shower.
It was only after Brandon was dressed and they were sitting in Joel’s car, the heater working to warm things up, that Joel sprung an idea on Brandon.
“So, Bran, I’ve got a request. I need a favor from you.”
“Sure, man. What can I do?”
“You’re not going to like it,” Joel prefaced his request, looking appropriately embarrassed.
“No, Joel, I am not sucking your dick,” Brandon said.
“No. Don’t even suggest that. Jeez,” Joel said. “No, I want you to come with me to the city this afternoon.”
“I wish I could, but I can’t. You know that. And you know why too.”
“Because of your dad. Yeah, I know. But I need you to come with me. I promise that I’ll deal with your dad afterward, but I really want you to come with me today. It’s important.”
Brandon so wanted to believe he could do this, behave like other teenagers did and do something spontaneous, impetuous, and frivolous. He was so torn in two directions that he was afraid he might rip in two. “Okay,” he said softly. He very nearly hyperventilated after saying that single word, but Brandon gave his consent.
“All right, dude,” Joel shouted. Putting on a great pair of sunglasses and cranking the music up high, Joel directed the car onto the freeway for the half-hour drive to the big city. They hadn’t gone ten feet before Brandon was second-guessing himself.
“Stop that,” Joel ordered harshly.
“Stop what?” Brandon asked, confused.
“Stop it. You’re doing something good.”
“How did you know what I was thinking?”
“Because I can read you like one of my grandmother’s large print books, that’s how.”
Brandon shuffled down in his seat a little, embarrassed. The only thing that stopped him from disappearing completely was his seat belt, which stopped him.
“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Joel said. “I know it’s hard, but you need to trust me that this is a good thing. You’ll see. I promise.”
“I… know. I mean, I… I hope so.”
“You are, trust me,” Joel said.
“But my dad is gonna give me such grief for this. You have no idea. When he calls and I’m not right there to answer immediately, he’s gonna be pissed. He doesn’t ever cut me any slack. He calls at the same exact time every morning and every evening. No matter what I’m doing, no matter what chores he’s given me, I have to be right there to answer the phone.” Brandon was starting to talk himself into a panic.
“Hey,” Joel said sharply. “Enough. Calm down. I’ll deal with him. I told you I would and I will do that. Do you trust me?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Brandon said.
“Thanks for that overwhelming vote of confidence, man,” Joel said with a chuckle.
Traffic picked up the closer they got to the city. Brandon didn’t know his way around at all. He’d been there with his father when they’d needed something or when he took him to buy clothes for school, but otherwise his life consisted of his house and the pool and the school. That was it.
The only breaks he got in the monotony were when his swim team had away swim meets, although his dad did his utmost to make even those sacred moments into miserable occasions for him as well. All of the team members rode on the team bus to events—except for Brandon who had to ride with his dad to and from every single out-of-town meet. He wanted to be just one of the guys, but his dad wouldn’t let him.
Brandon argued he needed to spend that time with his teammates so they could become more of a team, see that they were in something together. The coach argued the same thing, but he couldn’t push Brandon’s father very far because Brandon’s dad was the only outside sponsor the team had, and he was quite generous with his financial support for the team.
The first time Brandon and the coach had convinced his dad to let him ride on the bus with everybody else, his father decided to ride on the bus too. And by the time they got to the meet location, just about everybody on the team hated him for one simple reason—his dad had insisted on lecturing and haranguing everybody to go out and put everything they’d learned into action and to win at any cost.
For seventy minutes he had gone on and on and on. Even the coach looked pissed by the time they finally parked outside the host school’s pool. Occasionally at times like that the coach pushed back and tried to rein Brandon’s dad in, but anytime that happened, his dad just threw more money to the swim team to support everything it did. Any other parent would have been kicked out for his behavior.
Rather than build camaraderie, all the trip had done was to make everyone pissed with Brandon. He’d been shoved against lockers, bitched at, snarled at, cursed at, and glared at by a string of pissed-off teammates that day, more than he ever had in his life. The bus ride was their time, but it had been stolen from them that morning.
Most of the guys knew the score and understood how tough this was for Brandon. But not all. When he had a moment while his dad and the coach were out of earshot, Brandon finally snapped, and when someone cursed him, he snapped back, “Welcome to my fucking life!”
On the next out-of-town swim meet trip, his teammates had apparently talked and had worked out something—something for Brandon, something more appreciated by him than he could possibly explain. One of his teammates deliberately sought out Brandon’s dad and sat next to him before he could bound up out of his seat and start lecturing and scolding. His teammate came complete with questions about Brandon’s dad and his business and for advice he had for starting and managing a business now versus when he’d started his own business years earlier. For the entire half hour of the drive to the host school that afternoon, the bus was positively civilized because Brandon’s dad was occupied holding forth on something he actually did know a lot about.
Brandon made a point of finding the guy who’d taken one for the team and gave him a quick guy-hug—strictly one arm—and a big smile. Smiles and one-arm hugs were acceptable without risk of hinting anything gay. Brandon was able to convey the message, and he’d also whispered a heartfelt “Thank you” during their bro-hug. After the meet everyone was tired, and the coach managed to keep Brandon’s dad occupied, so again the ride was civilized.
Now with Joel, Brandon didn’t have a clue where they were going, other than “the city.” But he didn’t need to know because it was Joel’s car, his idea, his trip, and Brandon was just along for the ride. He wasn’t navigator, which was good or they’d be screwed.
Joel started their bit of freedom with a stop at a Burger King. Brandon had only been to fast food places once or twice in his life, so it was basically a brand-new experience for him. When they walked in, he looked to Joel with two concerns. “Um, dude, I don’t have any money.”
“I know. Don’t worry. I got ya covered.”
“How do I know what to get?”
“What do you mean?” Joel asked.
“I’ve never been here before.”
“They all have the same menu, so whatever you usually get at BK,” Joel explained.
“No, you don’t understand,” Brandon whispered, sounding a bit desperate. “I’ve never been….”
“You’ve never been to Burger King? How is that possible? Are you more of a McDonald’s guy?”
Brandon shook his head, feeling suddenly embarrassed and morose. Brandon tried again. “My dad won’t let me eat food like this.”
Joel stared at his friend for a moment. “Not to worry,” Joel said, seeming to understand Brandon’s dilemma now. “You like burgers?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“What do you like on your burger?”
Using what Brandon had told him, Joel ordered for them, paid for them, and gave Brandon his first Burger King experience. When he took the first bite of his burger and tried his french fries, Brandon actually moaned with delight. He was embarrassed all over again and felt his face flushing, but Joel didn’t rib him or give him any grief. Joel just smiled at him and let him eat.
They finished their food quickly, so he was not rushing them when Joel said, “We’ve got to be somewhere nearby at 2:00. It won’t take long, but we can’t be late.”