Team Spirit

14. Lars: Master Negotiator

14. Lars: Master Negotiator

"Where's Sam?" Casey squints at the court as she pulls on her hoodie. Our clunky steps echo off the bleachers, but even that isn't loud enough to drown out the Space Jam warm-up music.

There is indeed a distinct lack of Sam on the court. There is a distinct lack of Leo in the stands. Even more distinct is my current level of suspicion.

"I don't know. I was busy losing a game. You were there, remember?" I shrug, ignoring the dread of not actually knowing the answer.

"Your cute friend's there, though. Introduce us?" Casey gives me a sly look, pointing toward the double doors at the other end of the stands. Leo looks lost. I didn't think he could look lost, not with the way he walks into a room and makes it feel like home.

"You're not his type, Case. Trust me."

Something isn't right.

"Is he into redheads?" Casey teases, her gaydar not quite up to par. I want to laugh. Why not pretend to date both Sam and Leo? Really give Murphy Comp something to talk about. Cheat on Sam with Leo.

"I guess I'll find out eventually." I try a wry smile.

Before I have to field any more questions rife with dramatic irony, Sam skids onto the court, nearly running into Brady.

Scratch that. Both Brady and Sam topple. The thud reverberates over top of the rumble of bass. That'll leave a bruise to add to the collection. It's too much to watch Sam pick himself up just to serve a dozen balls into the net.

"I need some Gatorade," I mumble a poorly conceived excuse, hopping away from Casey and the bleachers to seek out Leo before he comes looking for me.

He keeps his arms crossed tightly over his body, watching Sam from the double doors in an otherwise unoccupied corner of the gym. 

"Leo, what's wrong?" I whisper, like anyone could eavesdrop over the beat of the music still blaring.

"What?" Distracted, he blinks at me, just realizing I'm standing next to him. I appeared out of nowhere as far as he's concerned.

"Sam looks like a mess. You look like a mess. What's wrong?" I repeat, softer.

"I don't know what just happened." Leo blinks his enormous blue saucer eyes at me, holding in the glassiness. "Everything was going fine. It was going great and I shouldn't have kissed him in the hall. That was my mistake. I shouldn't have done it. I'm so sorry."

I grip his shoulders, holding him steady so he won't crumble into pieces in front of me.

"What's the problem, Leo?" Searching his face gets me nowhere. All I see is fear, not the cause. He has to get clear sentences out to communicate that part.

"I think someone saw us. Sam took off after her, but he didn't get very far. I'm sure she saw and she wasn't anyone from Drum. Everyone here knows about me. It's not like it would even matter." Leo takes deep breaths, in and out.

It doesn't matter for him, not as much. Leo isn't scared for himself. He is out in the open in his own environment. The news of who he prefers to kiss is old. I understand his concerns with such clarity.

He's worried he'll lose Sam to some would-be witness, a potential reason for Sam to panic and back off like a head shy horse. My heart melts a little at the thought.

"Who was it?" I ask. It wasn't one of the boys, and that's significant. If it wasn't one of the boys, it needs to reach one of them before it can become locker room gossip. If it wasn't one of the boys, it won't be anyone who could feel unjustly violated, as if Sam could be the kind of person who enjoyed the opportunity to watch boys strip. I can talk the girls into keeping a secret. I have leverage against Ash and Dakota and Chantelle and so many others.