Page 29 of Off Sides

We just watched a little more Schitt’s Creek before playing Fortnite and crashing on the couch. He didn’t stay for breakfast the next morning, no matter how hard Jenna tried to get him to.

But he didn’t seem upset either. I thought about him all weekend with a goofy-ass smile on my face, and I can’t wait to see him when I walk down the halls of the school toward my locker. I spot him right away, but unfortunately, he isn’t alone.

I hear Adler’s big booming stupid voice. “Did you have a good weekend, Duke? Kiss anyone special?” All my hackles raise, and I’m stomping my way over to them when Calvin slams his locker door shut, glares at Adler, and for a second, I think Adler might actually piss himself—but then Calvin just calmly walks away.

I want to see Calvin stand up for himself, but I also know instinctively that even beating the shit out of bullies like Adler and Shields won’t stop them, and words definitely won’t stop them either.

It just feeds them.

His way is probably better, but I still like my way. I’m on my way over to Adler when Billy sidles up to me. “Hey, Jonah. How was your weekend?”

I smile earnestly at Billy because I like the guy, but when I look over at where Adler was standing a second ago, I’m disappointed to see he’s gone. Oh well. I turn back to him. “It was good. What about yours? Go to the party?”

“Yeah,” he says with a shy smile. “But I didn’t stay long. I don’t really drink.”

“That’s cool, man,” I say because peer pressure is bullshit. But I do wonder about something—I mean he seems like a nice guy, and I’ve never once heard him give Calvin a hard time . . . “Do you know why they give him so much shit?” I ask, and I know it’s random, but I also know he knows exactly what I’m asking him right now and who I’m asking it about.

He looks casually over his shoulder to where Adler and Calvin were and then back at me. “I don’t really know what happened last year. I was only a freshman.”

“But you do know. It’s Big Bend,” I say, pushing just a little. Even if he was just a freshman last year, I know he heard rumors.

He shifts, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, his eyes glancing around the crowded hallway and then scoots a little closer to me. “I don’t. I’ve heard all kinds of rumors, but I didn’t go to parties last year at all. So I missed whatever happened.”

“So it was at a party?”

“I don’t know.” He looks nervous, and I kind of hate myself for pushing, but I need to know. “I heard a lot of things, man.” He looks around again, and then his eyes settle on me. “I mean crazy things like orgies and him fucking a guy in front of people at a party. Someone said they saw him sucking dick in the locker room. But I don’t think any of it’s true.”

I don’t either.

There’s no way any of that is true. I could feel his eyes on my lips. I know he wanted to kiss me, but it was with an innocent hesitance. And yeah, I’m sure something did happen. But with a guy this deep in the closet?

No way he was that reckless. Unless something really, really bad happened to him after.

This is killing me.

Not that anything that happened really matters. The way they treat him is not okay. Not at all. Not ever. And it doesn’t escape me that nearly all the things mentioned by Billy involve Calvin and another guy. Which, with the rules of gossip applying, it’s probably safe to say whatever happened did involve another guy. Especially with the dumbasses’ taunts.

“Thanks, Billy,” I say honestly and pat his shoulder.

“Sorry I couldn’t be more help. Maybe you should just ask him.” I pin him with a look, and he laughs. “Duke’s a good guy. I don’t know how I know because he doesn’t really talk, but I just know it.”

I smile. “Yeah. I know, but I don’t think he’d tell me if I asked. I don’t think he wants to talk about it at all.”

His expression is grim and tells me he agrees. We head to our classes, and I spend most of the day thinking about Calvin and all the things I’m dying to know about him. I promised myself I’d take it slow with him.

That I wouldn’t push.

But it’s like he’s trapped. Trapped in this hellish existence where he has no voice, and it’s killing me because he deserves to be heard. He deserves to stand up for himself. He deserves to go to school and practice without being endlessly tormented because of something that happened.

Something he won’t or can’t talk about. I’m dying to set him free from it.

So after practice when we walk out to our trucks, I nudge his shoulder carefully. “My house?” I don’t want to sound desperate, but I know I do and can barely bring myself to care.

He stops walking and turns to me. My heart rate speeds up because I just know he’s about to push me away. And the desperation is clawing at my insides now. I want to beg him to give this a chance—whatever this is—but I keep my mouth closed and wait. “I was thinking we could go somewhere else . . .”

Somewhere else? But he said we . . .

“Follow me?” He sounds so uncertain, as if I’d say no. That’s not going to happen.