A baseball glove hit the back of Garrett's head. "What the hell is wrong with you, Saint?" Jordan stalked over to the pitching mound. The rest of the team had gone to dinner, but Garrett stayed to practice his curveball. "Just when I think you've changed, you go straight back to first base. How long have you been out here?"
"Since practice ended?" Garrett guessed. He rolled his shoulder and felt a sharp twinge.
Jordan glanced at his watch. "That was two hours ago! Have you given your arm a break at all?"
Well, that explained the pain. He shrugged as he flicked the sweat off his forehead and drank from his water bottle. He broke out in goosebumps as the icy water dribbled down his heated neck.
Jordan looked like he wanted to deck him. "Of all the boneheaded, idiotic moves..." He sighed, glancing up when the field lights clicked on. "Why haven't you been to meditation classes? You know they're mandatory."
The dull ache Garrett had been carrying since B-Bash intensified. "Just haven't felt like going."
"Does this have anything to do with Arianne?"
Desperation gripped Garrett at the sound of her name. "You've seen her? How is she?"
"She looks like shit," Jordan said bluntly. He crouched down and picked up his glove. Leaning back on his haunches, he studied Garrett with a discerning eye. "And so do you. Did you guys get in a fight? Is that why she bailed on B-Bash?"
The fissure in Garrett's chest cracked open. After her heartbreaking admission, he'd chased after her, but when he found her crying against the side of the building looking ravaged and so desperately lost, he froze. He'd seen that look before. It was the exact expression his brother Spencer wore when his private journal became public.
"I don't want to talk about it," Garrett muttered. He stalked off the field with Jordan hot on his heels.
"I don't care what you want. You're going to tell me what the hell is going on right now."
The demand grated. Giving an icy look, Garrett cooly informed him, "My pitching isn't off, so I don't see how any of this is your business."
"You're getting it in the catcher's mitt, but shit, Garrett—" Sighing, Jordan shook his head. "It's like you lost your heart for the game."
He'd lost his heart all right. Just not for the game.
Jordan went on, "I don't want you falling into a ditch you can't climb out of. You deserve better."
His stomach twisted painfully. "I don't deserve shit." He'd run from Arianne like a coward. Just like he'd run from Spencer. He remembered in vivid detail the day he learned the truth.
Garrett was polishing off the last bits of his lunch when Timothy Vick and his basketball buddies descended on the cafeteria like a group of gnats swarming a garbage can. In typical Timothy fashion, he pushed his way through not giving one fuck about anyone but himself. Alongside him walked Heidi, Garrett's lab partner, and crush. Not only was she the hottest girl in the freshman class, but she was also captain of the freshman soccer team. Garrett didn't understand why a smart girl like her would hang out with an arrogant prick like Timothy.
Garrett brushed the crumbs off his shirt when they approached. His green eyes met Heidi's but skittered away when Timothy draped a beefy arm around her neck.
"Is it true, Delko?" Timothy asked with his signature sneer.
"What? That you can't get a ball in the net to save your life?" Garrett joked. It was well known the basketball team was ranked second to last in the league.
"That your brother is a fag."
Garrett stilled. "What?"
"Heard he's gone all hormonal over his best friend."
"Where did you hear that?"
"From my older brother, Rex. He said Matty Patinkin found your bro's journal—which hello, should have been the first clue—and inside was a bunch of love letters to Lincoln. That's his best friend right?"
Garrett's body flushed hot, then cold. "Matty Patinkin is a filthy liar. And so is your brother. Everyone knows he's jealous because Spencer beat him out for junior class president."
Timothy turned beet red. "Your brother cheated."
"Keep telling yourself that. And stop spreading lies about Spencer."
"Too late. It's all over school."
Garrett looked up to find the whole cafeteria watching them like a wrestling match on WWE. His chair squeaked against the linoleum floor as he quickly stood and grabbed his things. He had to find Spencer. They needed to sort this mess out and punish whoever started these rumors.
"If you're looking for your brother he's not here. I heard he went home after crying his eyes out in the girl's bathroom."
Garrett lunged as Timothy gave a mocking laugh. His fists curled around the lapels of Timothy's jacket as the muscle in Garrett's jaw pulsed with anger.
"What are you gonna do, Delko? Punch me for telling like it is? Go ahead," Timothy urged. "I dare you, but I bet you don't have the guts to do it. Gonna wimp out just like your brother."
The taunt combined with the jeers of the students lit Garrett's already short fuse. Anger flowing through him, he cocked his fist back, ready to show Timothy just how much of a wimp he was when out of the corner of his eye, he caught Heidi cowering behind her backpack. He felt like a monster as her expression grew fearful. Ignoring the smug look on Timothy's face, he released Timothy and stepped back.
"I knew it," Timothy crowed. He raised his voice so even the kids in the far corner could hear. "Guess both Delko's don't have it in them to be anything but snowflakes."
Later that day, Garrett barged into Spencer's room, ignoring the sharp, "Hey!" He opened his mouth to blast Spencer for the cluster fuck at school, but the misery painted on Spencer's face stopped him cold.
Holy shit. It was true.
Why had Spencer kept it a secret from him? He wouldn't have cared. He liked Lincoln. He was one of Spencer's few friends who included him in things instead of treating him like a pesky younger brother. And yeah, it was a little weird to know Spencer was gay, but he'd get over the weirdness. However being out of the loop and hearing it from someone like Timothy? That stung.
Spencer looked up from his place on the rug. The sheen in his jade eyes contrasted with the back-off vibes of his words. "Tell Mom I have a project to work on and won't be down for dinner."
"Sure, you got it." He lingered in the doorway. Should he say something?
"Shut the door behind you," Spencer added.
Yeah, that was his cue to leave, but still, something in him hesitated. It felt wrong to do nothing. But what did he have to offer? The English language seemed to have fled him, and he wasn't exactly Mr. Teddy Bear. Maybe his mom would have ideas, but did she even know what had happened?
"Garrett." It was the same cutting tone he used in third grade when a bunch of bullies picked on Garrett. "I don't need a goddamn babysitter."
Fine. If he wanted to wallow by himself, then he very well should. Saluting, he gave his brother one last look before closing the door behind him.
Taking Spencer at word value had been a stupid and foolish mistake. One he'd regret for the rest of his life because deep down, he knew—he goddamn knew—Spencer needed more. If he could go back in time, he'd park his ass on the floor and stay until morning. Instead, Spencer sat all alone in a dark room most likely wondering how things could get any worse.
But it did.
It got so much worse.
And sadly, that night set the tone for their relationship until the day Spencer died. If only he hadn't turned away. If only Spencer hadn't constantly seen Garrett's back.
Jordan's sharp voice cut through his memories. "Start going to meditation classes. That's an order, Saint."
"And if I don't?" he challenged.
"Coach will bench you faster than you can say 'backup.'"
A sinking feeling took hold. "So this little talk was Coach's idea?" Deep down, he wanted Jordan to care enough to talk to him all on his own.
Jordan sent him an exasperated look. "What does it matter whose idea it was? The point is you are this close to joining Gus on the sidelines. Is that what you want?"
"Of course not."
"Then get your act together. I'm not your babysitter."
Babysitter. The word left a bitter taste on his tongue, and Jordan noticed.
"What's wrong?" he asked, examining Garrett's arm. Gently, he rotated it. "Does this hurt? We need to get you iced."
He flicked off Jordan hand like he would a fly. "My arm's fine."
"Your ulcer then?"
"My ulcer's fine too." He knew he was being an asshole, but he couldn't stop. There was this need to hurt someone like he was hurting.
A contemplative expression flashed across Jordan's face as he sucked in his lips and glanced up at the sky. "Look," he said slowly, "I know it's not any of my business but I heard about what happened to your brother."
Garrett felt like he'd been dealt a swift blow to the head. "How?" he asked hoarsely.
Jordan hesitated. "From a friend."
A teammate? The thought of Spencer's death being passed around the locker room like a dirty magazine had the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. "W-What do you know?"
"I know he was benched from the high school varsity baseball team before he was forced to quit. I know his friends ditched him and he was ostracized from the student council. I know the guy he was in love with spread nasty rumors about him."
Stunned, Garrett gaped at him. "Your friend must be really well connected. Not even our neighbors know that much."
Jordan avoided Garrett's gaze as he shrugged. "Andre likes to keep tabs on the happenings of the LGBT community for his blog. He's especially interested in cases like your brother's."
Garrett's lips thinned. He knew the type. They made articles hoping to raise awareness. "My brother isn't some statistic for people to go viral over." No matter the intentions. "Spencer was a person. A good person. And a son."
Jordan gave a pointed look. "He was a brother too."
A brother who deserved better. If the situations had been reversed, Spencer would have shouted from the rooftops how proud he was of Garrett. He would have ripped up those journal pages plastered all over school and hunted down the culprits. And most importantly, he would have never, ever let Garrett feel alone.
After Spencer died, Garrett found a secret journal Spencer had kept in his closet. In it, he wrote that he understood why Garrett did what he did. That he didn't blame Garrett. Which only made Garrett feel worse. He wished Spencer had cussed him out or condemned him to hell. Anything to ease Garrett's guilt.
Garrett hunched his shoulders and kicked a newly sprouted patch of grass. "So if you know about my brother then you must know about me too."
"I do."
When he didn't say anything else, Garrett chanced a quick peek. From the way his jaw was set, Garrett's stomach sunk. "You heard."
Jordan nodded as he faced the baseball field. "To be honest, I didn't want you on this team. I thought you'd be toxic. I talked to Coach about it, and he assured me that you could become a great asset, but I had serious doubts."
"And now?" Garrett asked.
His lips quirked for a second. "You confuse me. I had you pegged as a certain way and from what I've seen that's not the whole story. At least I hope it's not." He glanced at Garrett. "You're hurting too." He held up a hand when Garrett went to protest. "Don't deny it. Anyone with eyes can see it. I just hope that when I graduate next year, I can leave the team in good hands. I hope that's you. I hope you figure out how to deal with your brother's death and with Arianne."
"Do you know about her?" Garrett wondered.
Jordan lifted a blonde brow. "I know she's hurting like you, but that's it. She's never confided in me. From what I heard she's never confided in anyone except you."
Garrett felt a flash of male satisfaction. He wanted to be her go-to person just like she was his, but was that still the case after B-Bash? He didn't know how he felt about Arianne's revelation. He faintly remembered details from his sex ed class in high school but to be honest he'd paid more attention to the naked drawings than anything else so, after B-Bash, he spent all day researching. It'd been an eye opener for sure.
If they dated and their relationship became something more, there was a high probability he'd contract herpes as well. A person didn't always know when the virus was infectious. And okay, that would be fine if they promised forever, but they were still figuring it out. If they broke up, he'd carry the disease to every relationship, every person he dated. It was a heady thought. Didn't he owe his future girlfriend or wife more than that?
But what if Arianne was his future? Hadn't he said she was his lodestone? Then there shouldn't be a problem. And yet...
Ugh.
What he wanted to do was hunt down that asshole Chase and pound him to a pulp. Clearly, he was the one who gave it to her. That douchebag really did a number on her. On top of cheating with her mother, the twit gave her an STD. It was like something out of a Lifetime movie.
As he said goodbye to Jordan and walked back to his dorm, Garrett considered his options, but the more he thought, the angrier he became. His life had finally been getting back on track. His nightmares were decreasing, his pitches were hitting, and he found a girl who made him come alive but now it was unraveling, and he didn't know how to stop one without ruining them all.
His feelings bubbled inside, growing larger and larger until he thought he would explode. He needed to get everything off his chest. Pulling out his phone, his thumb hovered over Dr. Shinn's name, but made a switch at the last minute.
"Stephan," he said. "Are you with Marcus? Do you guys have a second to meet up?"
Half an hour later, Garrett was sitting cross-legged on the floor of Stephan's dorm room. Stephan was sprawled on his bed with a beer in hand and Marcus was on the beanbag chair next to the mini refrigerator.
Garrett took a sip from his beer, letting the fizz burn it's way up his nose. "What I tell you doesn't go past this room. Not to your mom, your grandma, or any of our teammates. You have to promise me."
"Of course," Marcus said. Stephan mimed zipping up his mouth and throwing away the key.
Garrett knew he should be discussing such sensitive topics with his therapist—doctor-patient confidentially and all—but he trusted Stephan and Marcus not to blab. Plus, they would offer advice instead of only asking questions like Dr. Shinn. Advice he desperately needed. He laid out everything for them, not holding a single detail back from the first time he saw her to their clash at B-Bash.
Marcus let out a low whistle when Garrett finished. "Fuck, that's rough. Looking at her you'd never know she'd been betrayed and then basically homeless. I can't imagine having parents so cold-hearted."
Stephan set down an empty beer and sat up. "Not to be the downer in this situation but being with her means risking yourself. Is she worth that?"
Garrett let his head fall to the couch behind him. "Part of me says damn right she is, but the other part..."
God, it made him sound like such an asshole, but what if they did break up? He would have to have this conversation with a girl he liked, and she would be having the same doubts about him. Of course, he and Arianne could date and not do anything sexual that would put him at risk, but at some point, he'd want to go further. And wouldn't it be better to know now whether or not he would take the chance then when their feelings had grown deeper?
"And you haven't had any contact with her since she let that bomb drop on you?" Marcus asked. He reached into the fridge and got them new bottles.
Garrett popped off the top and took a long pull. Ulcer be damned. "I texted to make sure she got home okay after she ditched me."
"But nothing beyond that?"
"I thought about texting her but what would I say? I don't want to give her false hope if it doesn't work out." He had to make sure he knew his feelings before entering into a relationship whether that be a friendship or something more. Although, he didn't know if he could handle being platonic friends with Arianne.
Stephan threw back his head and hooted. "And I thought you had some sense about girls."
Garrett frowned. "I do."
"Hate to break it to you, but you're screwed. It's been what? Two weeks since B-Bash?"
"One and a half," Garrett said defensively. Okay, verging on two, but still.
Stephan slapped his thigh and said, "Dude, you have some major groveling ahead of you. I hope you know what she likes. Flowers, chocolate, romantic playlists..."
"I don't think Arianne is a flower and chocolate type of girl."
"Then you better think of something quick because if you don't fix this, you won't have a relationship to decide about." At Garrett's dubious expression Stephan sighed. "Out of the three of us who has the most experience? Yeah, that's right. Me. And you can't ditch a girl especially after what she told you."
"I'm not ditching her. I'm thinking. There's a difference. Besides, she ditched me first."
Stephan shook his head. "Nah, nah. Doesn't matter. You don't leave a girl in the lurch like that."
Garrett realized Stephan was right. "Fuck. Then what do I do?" He ran a hand over his hair, massaging his scalp. This kept getting worse and worse. "I still haven't made up my mind about our relationship."
Marcus piped up. "Arianne doesn't seem like the girl who'd demand an answer right off the bat. I bet she understands what you're going through. Hell, it sounds like she's just as conflicted."
"You're right. I should talk to her." He just didn't want to make the wrong decision as he did with his brother. If only he knew what the right decision was.
*Bonus Content* Why the name Garrett you ask? Well, I named my hero Garrett because that's the name of my first crush. I was in elementary school, and all the girls liked this boy Sean, but I rebelled and liked his weird best friend, Garrett. Why weird? Well, when he had PB&J sandwiches, he also ate the napkin wrapped around it, and he never followed the crowd but did his own thing. That's probably why I liked him. Plus, at lunch, we would look at each other's eraser collection and trade them. Sounds lame I know, but my younger self was infatuated. Who was your first crush and why?