SEX AND THE BOY ✓

LACHANOPHOBIA IS FOR CHILDREN

"and trust me, it's way bigger than what your neck can support. Despite how averagely toned it is."

Sighing, Leroi turns his head to the macho, beards shaven like a baby's butt making him look awkward as that bald hot Squidward meme. The curlyhaired boy wonders why Chester has been freshening up than usual these days.

Leroi musters all the strength in him, physical and mental to crack the worst smile. "Good afternoon, coach." His jersey shorts are itchy and his armpits crampy for no reason. Maybe it's just Chester's cologne burning his nose hairs off.

"Me boy." Chester slaps his back harsher than intended--at least that's what Leroi thinks--before setting his literally macho ass--at least that's what Leroi wetdreams it as--on the bench. "I wanted to ask if you're doing well but," he shakes his head, "you ain't."

"Thanks coach, for that informing that zucchinis are green. Maybe you should, like I don't know, stick your nose in something else like your brother being the most insensitive bag of douche.."

"Excuse me?"

Leroi blinks twice, out of his trance of verbally banging his coach. "I just, I really don't have much on mind," he peeps from behind a stray curl over his right eye, at the coach who jokingly sneers, "you know, basic teenage boy shit. I'm loaded, but get past it soon. As I usually do."

"As you usually do?"

"As I usually do."

There's a dead silence that lasts for seconds, entailing Leroi noiselessly tying his shoelaces and the airconditioner humming to the latter's noisy thoughts.

"That's the problem, Slayberry."

"Yeah?"

As much as Leroi doesn't want to be judgemental about something he shouldn't interfere. Like, Maurice is Charles' own child. But Leroi can't help but to wonder if Chester is the same with his brother, if the entire family is just a joke jigsawed out of animals.

"There's no second chance. No fucking rewind button if you mess this shit up for us."

An innocently clueless person will take his words as cliche sport peptalks. Whereas, the sentence is long and acute enough to be garotte, over his neck, reminding that he's getting the same treatment as the finals. If he does well, he will be treated well. But, unfortunately he fucks it up, he'll get fucked up.

Leroi will be anything but surprised if he does the same Chester did to Maurice.

"I understand--"

"And I called your parents on your welfare. The principal should've done it but I figured it's more of my job because I know you better than most others."

Leroi almost burst in hysteria. Home might explode on the sake of their reputation that he almost stabbed someone and that someone is a son to Onika's childhood bestfriend. On top the matter of him not playing basketball well, Richmond might get happy, too happy to the extent to tearing all the basketballs in his room apart to sow for the entire school board leather panties. Just to show how their irrelevant opinion is.

"Just take the day off." A heavy hand lands on Leroi's shoulder. "No practice for today. Clear your head and shit because we don't wanna have your head heavier than the ball you intend to play at the finals."

That last word Chester said keeps ringing in Leroi's head till he growls out of the gym, till he dips his head under a running tap for a straight fifteen minutes, till he has put lazy dents on two lockers.

With his chest heaving like he just underwent an Olympic fuckathon, he pulls out his phone from his locker messed with unprofessional graffiti. After typing 'whiskeytheparrot' into the password bar, Leroi speed-dials a particular Star Trek stan. "Nixon, it's past time where the fudge are you?"