The Year I Stopped Being Invisible - 33. Chapter 33

By the time we got to the motel on Friday night, it was past midnight. We were all too exhausted and emotionally drained for the usual hotel hijinks of traveling high school teams, and Carter and I retired to our room immediately, passing out in a large but lumpy queen-size bed before Mr. McRory even came by to check that we were there.

Carter was wearing nothing but the skimpiest of salmon-colored briefs, and I awoke on Saturday morning at around 7:45 to find his erect penis peeking out against my leg to wish me a good morning. As nice and large of a penis as it was, and as attractive as I found Carter, I knew that this situation could not have a satisfactory resolution. Thus, I hastily leapt from the bed and got into the shower, hoping that he would compose himself by the time I got out.

Instead, I came out of the shower to find Carter jacking it to Aerobicize, Showtime cable's "exercise" program which centered on a trio of slutty-looking, barely-dressed women doing squats and thrusts to tinny dance music. I covered my eyes and began dressing as he continued stroking his cock, oblivious of my attempts at discretion.

"Why don't you join me?" he said casually.

"Uhm...no thanks, man," I demurred. "I wanna get dressed and go have some breakfast."

"Suit yourself," he said with a sleepy grin as I rapidly donned my suit and tie and got the hell out of there.

I strolled into Denny's a few minutes later to find Linda and Mark chatting amiably. They had both advanced in Poetry Reading, and were scoping out the competition from Mr. McRory's hastily scribbled sectioning notes. I slid into the seat next to Linda and ordered an iced tea and a Lumberjack Special for breakfast. It was going to be a long day, and I needed my energy. I picked up a poop book from the table and consulted the schedule. With Mike and Linda in Poetry and Carter in Prose, we had to get to the school by around 8:45, so we wolfed down our meals and jumped on the bus. Carter strolled on just before we left, flopping down in the seat next to mine with a wink and a grin.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" I asked.

"I always do," he giggled.

Last night's debate rounds had removed Robin, leaving only Raymond in the semifinals against Johnston High's Rick Warren, who had won Kansas University's workshop tournament over the summer against some of the best debaters in the nation. I went to watch Linda's Poetry round and then headed upstairs to see Raymond's debate. Kathy, Cindy, Roger, Jim, Robin, Pablo, Mark, Linda, and the rest of our team was there to support him as well.

Raymond, surprisingly, had a fairly easy time with Rick Warren, boxing him into corners during cross-examination and then rebutting his points in such a way as to frame a logical cage, which Warren couldn't find a way to escape. High-fiving Raymond, I made my way to my Humorous semifinal feeling good about the way our team was doing.

Most of the older kids went to watch Carter's Humorous or Raymond's Dramatic, while Mark went to see Kathy's Women's Extemp semi and Pablo went to watch Robin's Oration, but I still got Cindy for my audience, and I hugged her before performing to show that I appreciated it. My section was fairly lackluster, with most of the cuttings being from tried and true classics like The Importance of Being Earnest and Volpone, so my outrageous piece really stood out. This could be a good thing or a bad thing, and with an older, presumably more conservative judge, the risque nature of Durang's Titanic could end up hurting. I got a lot of laughs, however, and although I felt my semis performance wasn't as technically sharp as the one I gave in prelims the previous evening, I still thought I kicked some serious ass for old Polk High.

I went back to the cafeteria, where the postings informed us that Raymond had advanced to Dramatic Finals and Men's Extemp Finals, Robin to Oratory Finals, and Kathy to Women's Extemp Finals. I congratulated them all, just as we learned that Raymond would be in the LD Debate Final against -- who else -- Chamberlain's Bobby Merman. Linda and Mark had been eliminated from Poetry, and Carter didn't get through in Prose either, but still had hopes for Humorous Finals along with me.

Another surly Foxrun freshman emerged from the tabulation room, and a small crowd gathered around him as he taped and unraveled the poster reading "Foxrun IQT - HUMOROUS FINALS - Room 132."

Carter stood with Jim and Roger awaiting the results, and had obviously been smoking pot with them, as his eyes were half-lidded and bloodshot, and he had a goofy grin on his cute weaselly face. Kathy and Mark stood by me for support, Mark deciding that squeezing my ass was an appropriate form of encouragement.

And there I was. 21G. Speaking 5th.

Carter came over to give me a congratulatory hug before disappearing with Jim and Roger, presumably to the parking lot for some more of what they effetely referred to as "partaking." Kathy and Mark got me high and low -- Kathy surprising me with a big kiss on the lips while Mark grabbed me in all kinds of sensitive areas, grinning like a hyena.

"Oh, my little one," said Kathy somberly, "now you are a man."

I giggled and followed her to the Gallery of Champions luncheon, which was held in a special banquet room for all the finalists, catered by a local restaurant which was one of the tournament sponsors. Raymond and Robin were the only other Polk finalists, and the four of us sat together at one of three long tables packed with tournament royalty. Eric Chase came over to congratulate me, and I told him I was looking forward to finally seeing him perform. I admit, I was starting to feel like a big shot, sitting at this fancy table with all the upperclassmen and people like Eric, Bobby Merman, and Brookwood's Lucille St. Hawkins.

After the luncheon, I headed back toward the cafeteria. Linda was waiting for me in the hallway, a look of concern on her face. Puzzled, I let her take me by the arm and lead me into a quiet alcove by one of the school's back doors.

"Rick," she said seriously, "I need to tell you something. Promise you'll listen to everything I say before you say anything back, okay?"

Now I was really starting to become nervous, but I nodded anyway.

"Well," Linda continued, "I just spent the last forty-five minutes in the parking lot with Taine."

"Taine's here!" I exclaimed, but Linda shushed me with a stern look.

"Rick, listen! Yes, Taine and Sly are both here. But Taine was really upset. I mean, super upset with you."

"With me?" I was completely taken by surprise. "Why would Taine be upset with me? What did I do?"

"Do you remember asking Taine to come and see you perform if you made the finals?"

"Yes..."

"Do you remember asking Taine not to wear his hat to the finals?"

"Yes..."

I still didn't see where this could possibly be going.

Linda smacked the palm of her hand against her forehead.

"Oh, Rick, you dummy! How could you?"

"How could I what? Linda, what the hell are you even talking about?"

Linda rolled her eyes as if she was dealing with a total moron.

"Okay, Rick." She paused and began to explain, her voice slow and condescending, talking to me like I was a child. "First of all, don't you realize what that hat represents? Maybe he takes it off around you now and so you don't realize it anymore, but it's Taine's only line of defense against the outside world. You got in, but that doesn't mean he's ready to let a crowded room full of strangers in suits and dresses in too. He needs to wear it to protect himself. You should know that!"

"But...but..." I sputtered. "You can't sit there and wear a hat when you're watching actors perform. It just isn't done and it's rude as hell. What would people think?"

Linda pointed at me directly, raising her other hand in the air in triumph.

"Ah-hah!" she exclaimed. "And that's the second thing, the most important thing. 'What would people think?' That's what you're worried about. What all those other people would think, and you're not thinking about what Taine thinks. You're not thinking about what Taine wants."

She stared at me, her face and voice getting angrier by the second.

"Out there in that parking lot is a very hurt, upset and lonely boy," Linda continued. "And he's wearing a hat. And that boy loves you. Him. That boy. Taine. The boy in the hat. Not all those other people in the room who are only sitting there hoping their friends beat you like a rug. That boy and his dad drove three hours to come and see you because they love you and they want you to do well. And all you care about is that he doesn't wear a fucking hat and...what?...make you look bad? You should be ashamed of yourself, Rick Spivey. You don't deserve him!"

With that, Linda turned on her heel and marched away. I stood there for a moment in stunned silence. She was right. I didn't deserve him. I hadn't been thinking of his wants or needs at all...this sweet, hurt boy who dared to trust me above all the other people in this world, who had opened his wounded heart to me, who had given me everything I ever wanted from a relationship and so much more, and this is how I repaid him. I felt like shit. I was a real asshole.

I checked my watch, then turned around, my head hanging in shame and humiliation, and began to walk slowly toward my finals room. I was stopped by a pair of black Jegs sneakers in front me. I looked up to see Taine, complete with cargo pants, army jacket...and, yes, the cap, sitting firmly atop his beautiful head.

"I'll take it off before we go in the room," he said quietly.

Without saying a word, I went to him and wrapped my arms around him in a loving and apologetic embrace. He hugged me back, but lightly, as if not quite sure how to approach the situation. I noticed then that he had a cut just below his bottom lip. I took him by the arm as we went to find my finals room, talking on the way.

"Babes, what happened to your lip?" I asked with concern.

"Oh, you know," he said dismissively. "Sometimes I chew on my bottom lip when I get nervous. It's nothing. It'll heal. But, listen, I need to talk to you later. After you do your thing. I don't want to distract you when you need to concentrate."

My heart broke. Here he went again, putting my needs before his own, even when I had upset him so greatly. I really was an asshole, I thought to myself.

We got to the door of Room 132 and I pointed it out to Taine. I looked inside and immediately noticed at least five people in the audience wearing baseball caps. GOD!

"Taine," I said, "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have asked you not to wear your cap, and I shouldn't have put my stupid concerns about appearance and propriety ahead of you. I never want to put anyone or anything ahead of you. I love you. Please, wear your cap."

"That's easy to say now," he smirked. "Look at all those hats in there. Do you have time to go with me to get my dad?"

I checked my watch. Five minutes. Fuck it, I'd make time. I'd even leave this tournament with him right now before the finals even started if he wanted me to. He was my Babes, and he would always, always come first from now on.

"Yes," I said, kissing him. "But, do me a favor...wear the hat, but please stop chewing on your lips, huh? That's my job."

He smiled at last, and I started to think that maybe it would be okay for a while, at least until we could talk more about what had happened, and what damage I had caused.

We hurried to the parking lot, where I was mortified to see Sly leaning on the hood of an old black Dodge Charger.

Standing next to him was a tall, thin young man whom I guessed to be 22 or 23 years old. His resemblance to both my Babes and Sly was nothing short of astonishing. My mouth hung open as Sly beckoned me forward.

"Rick!" he said happily. "Come over here and meet someone. Let me introduce the long-lost prodigal son."

"Hi," the young man said, extending his hand. "I'm Blaine Maxwell."