Direct Confusion - 3. Chapter 3

On Tuesday, I got my fill of hot guys in speedos at the pool. After that the week just got harder. I see Jeremy everywhere. It’s not such a big school, so we are bound to run into each other, but now every time I see him it’s like a kick in the balls. Apparently all my good jerk-off material has abandoned me, and all I can think about is him. Friday afternoon I go from being generally upset about it to being pissed.

Study hall. What for all of one week was an opportunity to sit near my boyfriend, smile at him and think dirty thoughts between textbooks and essays is now torture. I miss Jeremy, I miss the sex, the lazy conversations afterwards. I miss the occasional smiles during study hall. Now he acts like I don’t exist. I push my notepad across the table at him and tap it with my pen.

What did I do to make you this mad?

After along enough time that I think he’s going to ignore it totally, Jeremy takes the pad and writes me a message.

It’s not easy for me either. But I can’t simply come out like you did. I’m not popular, it won’t be the same. I’m not risking everything for you while you fuck around with any hot jock boy you can turn.

I look from the paper to Jeremy, the boy I used to call my boyfriend. The guys on the team had always been a point of contention, but to know Jeremy is using it and his fear of facing his parents and peers as a reason to end what had been a perfectly decent high school relationship makes me see red. I stand and slam down the note pad with a thud.

“You spineless bastard!” I could say worse, but already the teacher is glowering at me, making moves to stand. I lean low and hiss across the table. “Go on this way, and you’re going to spend your whole life pushing away anyone who might give a fuck about you. I’m done.” I turn away from Jeremy, gather my things, and storm out of the study hall twenty minutes before we would otherwise be dismissed. I’ll pay for this behaviour later, but right now I don’t care.

As always in times of trouble, I head to the locker rooms. There were clothes hanging about, the sophomore phys-ed class were using the gym. I strip and change into my kit, one of four sets of yellow and green loose tops and shorts in my locker, and head to the weights room. The only other person there, just my luck, is Jameson Parker. He’s using one of the two running machines, so I jump on the other one, setting it on a medium level warm up, and get jogging. I want to be able to tune out my thoughts, but I can’t. I want to go back to the study hall and either deck Jeremy or kiss him really hard and then punch him. Both options suck.

“Hey,” Jameson sounds slightly out of breath, and with my eyes half closed and my brain on partial shutdown, it’s easy to imagine his accelerated heart rate is caused by something other than his running, “You’re Luke right?”

“McBride,” I clarify, “Yeah. You’re Erin’s brother.”

“That’s right,” I turn to catch a smile like the sun; in my anger I’d forgotten how beautiful he is. “I’m the less sporty one.”

My machine starts on the downhill section of my run, and I speed up slightly as talking becomes easier.

“Yeah sure, because fit, non-sporty boys normally spend their free periods running.” I smile to show him it’s a joke, “You like the cheerleading squad? They’ll work you into the ground y’know.”

“Hence the running.” Jameson is panting now, as his machine is ahead of mine and forcing him to go uphill, “I did gymnastics at our last school, and cheering is harder. More cardio.” He thumps the switch for the cool down, and I do the same, the bell will ring soon.

“Why couldn’t you cheer before?” We are walking now, and I stretch out my arms, shaking wrists and ankles to force blood and oxygen back into anaerobic muscles.

“Our last school didn’t allow it.” Jameson shrugs like it’s no big deal, “They had this whole big thing about mixed gender roles and when dad got the opportunity to transfer, we decided to find a school better suited to what we wanted.” I can feel myself smirking, pleased at what I’m hearing, “Erin likes it better here too, he says the guys on the football team are really cool. Less dumb jar-heads and more actually human beings capable of emotions and feelings.”

“Oh yeah,” I step off the machine and grab my towel, “No one will give you hassle here. If they do, point at ‘em and let me or Derrick know.” I start to head towards the showers, “You coming? The girls won’t appreciate it if you show up sweaty for practice.”

“Are you and Derrick like…?” Jameson looks puzzled.

“No!” The relief on his face makes my heart lurch, other things lurch too, “We’ve been friends our whole lives. God no, Derrick is straight as they come, but he’ll always defend friends. And he’s the toughest guy I know.”

I strip off in the locker room and head for the showers. The sophomores are clearing out. It’s not a moment before Jameson joins me. I watch him sling his towel over the rail, but he doesn’t pull the curtain behind him. I take the booth next to his and stand under the hot water, my muscles going slack and loose after my run. All but one muscle anyway. The shower stalls aren’t separated by more than the white plastic shower curtains hung over the steel railings and it’s too easy to peer around the divide to watch Jameson in the shower.

He’s beautiful. Jeremy pales in my memory by comparison. Jameson has a gymnasts body, all tight lines, slim hips, and enough muscle definition through his abs to make my mouth suddenly dry. Under the shower with his hair plastered against his skull, he looks more like his brother, and much more like a classical marble statue come to life. I sigh.

He opens one bright blue eye to see me watching, and I’m surprised because I hadn’t meant to make a noise. I give him my best lazy-sexy smile, the one that turned my first date’s knees to mush and allowed me to get as far as second base. He grins back.

“Your showers are way better than our last ones. Eight of us crowded around those big spray heads with the little soap dishes. Not much fun.” I feel his eyes on my body, a quick up and down, but I know my sizeable erection can’t be missed. He chuckles, “You planning to actually rise your hair off or are you gonna just stand there staring at my fine ass?”

I blush, and duck back under the spray. We both emerge, dripping and wrapping our towels around ourselves a moment later.

“I’m thinking of shaving it all off again actually.” I scrub water out of my hair with my knuckles. Every now and then I take a set of clippers to my scalp and shear the lot off to a number one. Once I shaved it with a razor too.

“No…” Jameson’s fingers are in my hair at the back, touching the silky texture of my hair without product. He’s standing really close and I can feel my chest getting tight again. “You can’t shave it off. That’d be criminal. Anyway my-”

I cut off whatever he’s going to say with my lips on his. He tastes clean and soft, his lips smooth and delicious. He must be shocked, because he doesn’t react, simply frozen in place under my mouth, under my hands on his torso. He’s super smooth, so smooth I doubt he shaves it off, and I love the feel of his muscles jumping under my fingers.

I break the kiss with a smug grin.

“I’ll be watching you at training pretty boy.”

Jameson looks like he might want to say something, but my stomach is full of satisfied and excited butterflies as I walk away. I’m damn good at getting what I want.

*

The cheerleaders are practicing over by the baseball diamond, and we have the pitches. Derrick is putting the new football recruits through basic training, footwork, throwing and tackles. I watch Porter push the padded training weights back across the field like they’re made of paper while the newbie’s stare with slack jaws. Right now, I am watching the entire team take penalty kicks while Chase trains up the second string freshman goalie in how to judge where the ball is going, how to think ahead and predict the angle, how to use his body properly. After two laps I aim up a neat kick and put it in the top left hand corner of the net. Chase can hardly ever save my kicks; the new guy hasn’t got a chance.

The football team break for a rest and warm down. I let my guys do three laps of the field and wander over to the bench after the first two laps. I stand at the shared water fountain and watch the cheerleaders spin and twirl. But my brain isn’t focused on the skirts; all my attention is taken up by the pretty boy in the fitted green tank top with yellow piping and the striped sweatpants. The colours look good on Jameson.

He sees me watching, nods to Heather, and jogs over towards the fountain. The half-exhausted newer members of the football team are heading my way too.

“Hey!” Erin waves to me as he comes up to me. His grin is wide and friendly, and my cock takes the time to notice he is as cute as his brother. “Training going well?”

“Yeah. Sure,” I basically ignore him and his attempts to be friendly, because Jameson is here now, blushing very slightly.

“Hey bro,” Jameson smiles briefly, then looks right at me, “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure thing.” I try not to sound like an overeager puppy as I walk away from the general hubbub with Jameson towards the generally deserted bleachers. I want nothing more than to wrap my arm around his slender waist and pull him up against me. As good as the kiss was, my cock is already half hard again and begging me for some sort of attention. “What’s up?”

Jameson sits down on the concrete bleachers and rolls his shoulders.

“About what happened in the showers…”

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell anyone until you’re ready.” I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts, perilously close to my burgeoning erection.

“No. I mean thanks, but…” Jameson scowls at himself and I can’t help but put my head on one side. He seems to be battling with something pretty big, “Look, can we just start again?”

“Huh?”

He stands and hols out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Jameson Parker and I’m a straight male cheerleader.”

I stare, but recover quickly.

“Just ‘cause you say you’re straight, doesn’t make it so.” I smirk. This is not the first time a guy I’ve kissed has tried to pull the ‘but I’m straight’ card. It never lasts long enough to put off a second kiss.

“Did I kiss you back?”

“Huh?”

Jameson is staring at me, but now his eyes are hard, arms crossed over his chest.

“Did I kiss you back? In the lockers rooms?” He waits, I am stunned into silence. “Well? Did I?”

“Er… no?” I manage finally. My brain is already shouting at me inside my head.

“No. Sorry to disappoint you Luke, but I’m not gay.”

“But you’re a cheerleader!” The moment the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. Jameson gives me a withering look, like I’m not worthy to lick his incredibly clean tennis shoes.

“The one person I didn’t think I’d get shit from was the gay captain of the soccer team. Being a cheerleader doesn’t make me anymore gay than being a jock makes you straight.” He steps over the bleachers, heading past me towards the field before he stops and turns, looking back over his shoulder. “Maybe next time you should listen to people rather than interrupt them with your fuckin’ tongue.”

I stare at him as he walks away, greets his brother, and then I see the flash of both Parker twins regarding me with blue eyes. Erin’s are three shades darker than his brother’s, but the set of his mouth is now firm, and he looks angry. I scuff my trainers against the concrete. Coach is blowing his whistle, calling the team back over, but I suddenly have no idea what I’m doing here. It’s nearly five o’clock on a Friday night, but it’s not like I can skip out early to go and hang with Jeremy, he’s made it very clear that he wants nothing more to do with me. Chase is calling to me, my lead striker is waving me over too, but I turn on my heel, and jog back to the changing rooms.

The rest of the guys, including Jameson, are coming in as I finish up my pointless and overlong shower. He is walking with his brother, who is carrying all his pads, his shirt around the back of his neck. He does not have a gymnasts body, this boy is all muscle and definition. When Erin sees me looking, I turn to my locker and focus very hard on the combination lock. The last thing I want is to make a scene here, with all the guys around, and piss of both the Parker brothers in a single day.

“Hey,” There is a warm hand on my shoulder, Jameson Parker is smiling.

“Er…”

“Sorry about going off at one on you. That wasn’t fair. Can we be friends, eh?” Over his shoulder, Erin is busying himself with a towel, and I’m sure I can see him grinning. Being friends with the world’s only straight male cheerleader can’t be a bad thing, even if I did kiss him accidentally. “I’ll forgive and forget, especially if you’ll help me with my history assignment. Heather says you’re the man.” He shrugs and smiles, so I smile back. It’s easy.

“Sure. Who do you have?”

“McCall, the paper is about…”

“The reformation of the church of England?” Erin volunteers, “I have the same one.”

“Why can’t he help you?” I nod to Erin, who suddenly turns beet-red, “Forget I asked. Well why don’t I come to your place tomorrow and we’ll work on it?”

“Cool!” Jameson beams, and hugs me: I’m getting some damn mixed signals from this boy, “Take Erie’s number. I’m gonna grab a shower!”

I take a phone number and street address from the still blushing Erin, and head out to the coach’s office for my berating. I deserve it, I left practice for no apparent good reason, and I get detention every lunch for the whole of the following week. If I’m honest, stacking books in the library will give me plenty of time to think. And a bit for daydreaming too.