The Clubhouse - 1. Pleasure and Pain

Tristan Goolsby was probably the only person in the county, maybe even the Tri-state area who owned a functioning Sony Walkman. It had originally belonged to his brother but when Everett had gone off to college several years ago, he’d bequeathed his most prized possession to his little brother. Everett now lived in Portland and DJ-ed on the weekends, mostly at bar mitzvahs and sweet sixteen parties. Once a month, he would send Tristan a cassette tape filled with music from various local bands and artists he had discovered. Tristan now had a shoebox filled with those cassette tapes and over the last few years they had become his most prized possessions.

After changing into his gym clothes, Tristan grabbed his Walkman and headed outside. The air was crisp, and the sun was front row and center in a totally cloudless sky. He squinted at the blinding light as he walked across the rear parking lot towards the football field. Todd McHurk, who answered to Coach, was standing at the fifty-yard line wielding his ever-present clipboard. As Tristan passed by him, the older man nodded in his direction and checked off his name.

When it came to PE, Coach had only one rule: You had to remain active the entire class. Tristan didn’t mind the staying active part. He usually woke up early on the weekends to go jogging around his neighborhood and sometimes he’d workout alongside his dad in their makeshift gym down in the basement.

There was a group of jocks, most of them on the football players, tossing a ball back and forth on the field. Near one of the end zones, there was a cluster of girls laying out yoga mats. LaKeisha Alston, who’d recently been declared the fastest girl in the state by a journalist from ESPN, was running sprints on the side-lines.

Tristan put in his earbuds and pressed play on the latest tape his brother had sent him. As a cover of Nine Inch Nails’ “Closer” by a band called Dirty Revival started playing, he began walking the perimeter of the field. He’d recently invested in a pair of noise-canceling headphones which were quite expensive, even with the Best Buy gift card he had gotten for his seventeenth birthday. It had been worth it. As Marrquii rapped over a sultry hip-hop beat, the rest of the world fell away. The irony was not lost on Tristan that the only time he truly felt at ease during school was in his least favorite class.

Coach blew his whistle at a quarter till eleven which meant Tristan had fifteen minutes to get changed before lunch. The temperature had changed up considerably and now fat beads of sweat were trailing down the sides of his face. He pressed stop just as Moorea Masa was about to launch into “I Can’t Tell You” as he followed his classmates towards the gym. Removing his earbuds, he reluctantly made his way back to the real world.

Cool air hit him square in the face as he reentered the building. As the group of girls in front of him turned right to head to the girls’ locker room, Tristan followed a particularly tall guy with curly strawberry blond hair into the boys’ locker room. As he walked over to his locker in the corner of the room, he wondered how it were possible that one singular room could elicit so much excitement and so much dread, oftentimes at the same time.

Tristan changed as quickly as his exhausted body would allow him, all the while willing his gaze to stay focused on the inside of his locker. Tad Timmerson sidled up to the locker next to Tristan and yanked it open. Even if he was blindfolded and his hands were tied behind his back, he would recognize the guy. Tad had been wearing the same cheap cologne since freshman year. Figs and cedar chips and sweat was his signature scent and Tristan found it both nauseating and intoxicating. Perhaps it was because he had grown over a foot tall and packed on some serious muscle since their Algebra class in the 9^th grade, but over the last few months Tristan had started to really take notice of the guy even though Tad was totally not his type at all.

Tad lifted his arm and sniffed at his armpit before shucking his sweat-drenched T-shirt. Tristan felt dizzy as the other guy’s scent flooded his senses. He fumbled with the buttons on his periwinkle dress shirt as his mouth went dry and face grew hot. Tad, of course, remained oblivious to the effect he was having on Tristan.

Tristan slammed his locker shut just as Tad removed his flimsy nylon shorts. He quickly threw his things in his bag and flung it over his shoulder. When he heard a clatter at his feet he looked down and saw that his Walkman had slipped from his bag and fallen on the floor. The tape deck had popped open and his brother’s mixtape was hanging halfway out. He muttered a curse under his breath and quickly dropped to his knees to retrieve the cassette player. Unfortunately, at that very same moment, Tad had decided to turn around.

Of all the things that could’ve happened to Tristan Goolsby in the boys’ locker room, of all the things he had thought about while he laid in bed, the last thing he ever expected was to end up with his face in Tad Timmerson’s frankly impressive bulge. Tristan froze and thought that if he remained as still as possible, no one, not even the guy whose crotch was currently smashed against his face, would notice. He was invisible. He was the Invisible Man.

“Dude.” Tad drew the word out like maybe he had seen Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure one too many times. His voice was loud enough to be heard over the cacophony of conversation and lockers slamming shut. “What the fuck?”

Tristan looked up and saw Tad glaring down at him, his face flushed with crimson. He slowly stood up, Tad’s packed pouch dragging across the lower half of his face. Without thinking, he shoved his Walkman inside his backpack and moved as fast as he could towards the door.

He thought he could hear laugher as the door slammed shut behind him, but he couldn’t be sure. If he had a car, he would’ve made a beeline for it and driven as far as he could away from school. Into the next county. Since he didn’t have a car, he went with his next best option. If he started now, he would make it to his house just in time for the final round of The Price is Right.