brooks & hale ✔️

hale

seventeen ;
h a l e

"WATCH AND LEARN, BITCHES!"

Elliot skidded across the wet floor from the door to the edge of the pool, disregarding the NO RUNNING sign on the wall, and cannonballed into the water with a huge splash. About half the water in the pool leapt into the air and doused Hale, even though he'd purposefully seated himself as far from the water as possible in order to avoid just that.

Elliot broke the surface of the water and smirked at Hale, who was dripping wet all over again. "Why the long face?" Elliot teased. "Not as impressive as you'd like?"

Hale flicked damp hair out of his eyes and glared at him. "No."

"I don't even get a rating?"

"Minus ten," Hale said flatly.

"Aw, Hale's just in a shitty mood 'cause Lewisham whooped his little Spanish ass in front of everyone," Alec said, waggling his eyebrows with a knowing look. "I bet they heard him yelling in London."

"London?" Dylan sniggered, his own feelings of betrayal at Hale screwing up having long since passed as he lounged on a floatie at the other end of the pool. "More like Africa."

Hale wasn't in the mood to play along. "I'm Mexican, dumbass."

"Po-tay-to, po-tah-to," Alec said dismissively.

Despite Lexus' disastrous defeat in the game that morning, no one seemed hung up over it. Dylan had been the most pissed off, bitching at them after the match in the changing rooms, but he quickly got over it when it became apparent no one else gave a shit. Will proposed they drown their sorrows in cheap beer at his house, and of course, no one would turn down the chance to mess around in his swimming pool.

Hale had just wanted to go home and pretend he didn't exist, but the others weren't having it. Will had somehow managed to convince him to come, and Hale figured it was better than wallowing in his own misery with the questioning thoughts he couldn't shake. The others didn't press him about his foul mood, instead keeping their distance and attributing it to Lewisham benching him. He didn't bother correcting them.

Hale sipped his flat beer and stared unseeingly at the rippling water. Why was he really in a foul mood? Well, let's see. He'd felt irrationally and stupidly jealous ever since he'd seen Bellamy shoving her tongue down Brooks' throat, and then remedied the confusing whirlwind of emotions by kissing Brooks himself. As if he hadn't fucked up badly enough with that, he'd run away straight afterwards like a pussy.

He couldn't even use alcohol as an excuse. He'd been 100% in control of his mental faculties when he made the decision to kiss Brooks, and even worse, he'd liked it. Way too much. But he couldn't be gay. Surely, he would have figured it out sooner if he was into guys. The thought left a bad taste in Hale's mouth, as if his beer had gone off.

He didn't want to believe he was actually gay, but how else could he explain the fact he kept thinking about Brooks, his voice, his smile, his lips on Hale's? The fact that every confusing train of thought simply led him back to wanting to kiss Brooks again?

Will re-emerged from the kitchen laden down with two whole six packs of beers in his arms. "I come bearing gifts," he said wisely, earning cheers from the others. "Oh, and Wendy threatened to staple my balls to the walls if anyone gets pissed and throws up in here. Not naming any names, Alec."