Home Run Page 2
When Dad and Linda got married I did what Dad told me to do and I backed off of Alex. At home I don’t give him shit at all. At school, I stay out of it when the guys are messing with him. But Alex is right. That’s not enough. That’s not what family does for each other. I guess I could make the argument that we’re not really family. He’s not really my brother. There’s no blood between us and we didn’t grow up in the same house with the same parents. No, we’re just being forced to live in the same house for one year. One stinking year shouldn’t change your entire life, should it? I’d love to say it shouldn’t and let myself off the hook for the guilt I was feeling. But unfortunately I kept hearing Alex’s voice and seeing his big, accusing, deep caramel eyes as he looked at me with disappointment and told me that I didn’t have any balls and a real man stands up for his family. He was right…shit.
I parked in the driveway and went in through the front door as soon as it closed behind me I heard my dad’s voice. “Ryan?”
“Yeah!”
“Get in here!” Shit. I knew that tone. I wonder if Fielding saw us and called about us harassing Alex. Dad would kick my ass over that. He is protective of Linda and Alex. I chuckled as I made my way to the kitchen. He’s a “real” man, I guess. As soon as I saw his face I knew it was something serious. He was standing with his back pressed up against the counter and Linda was sitting at the table clutching her coffee mug in both hands. He looked pissed. She looked nervous. I knew I’d done something and this conversation was probably not going to end well.
“Hey Dad, Linda, what’s up?”
“Mr. Fielding called this afternoon,” Linda said. I felt my breath catch in my throat. Shit! Should I just cop to it? Should I deny being there? Should I lie and say I tried to stop them? I didn’t do anything. Instead, I just stood there and looked at them dumbly. My dad’s blue eyes were as cold as ice.
“What have you been doing after school every day?” Dad asked.
After school every day? We haven’t been bugging Alex every day. This has to be about something else. Whew, I’m glad I didn’t admit to anything. “Um…baseball practice…homework…”
“Homework, really?” Shit, that’s what this is about. Fielding must be preparing our transcripts for graduation in June.
“Yeah, really. Why?”
“Mr. Fielding says you’re failing almost all of your classes Ryan.” Linda was using the same gentle tone she always uses with me. She knows I’m not her kid and I’m eighteen and likely that I’m an asshole so she always treads lightly with me. That’s probably good or I’d do or say something stupid that would get me knocked upside the head by my dad.
“Oh…”
“Oh?” My dad said, “What the hell kind of response is that? You know I was pissed because I thought you were being lazy. Maybe you’re just stupid. Maybe you just can’t do it.”
“Marty…”
“No Linda! We’re not going to coddle him! He’s obviously been coddled too much. You are failing English composition, Statistics, Civics and Economics…”
“Yeah Dad, I get it, everything.”
“Not everything. No, you’re not failing P.E. You do just fine in baseball and weightlifting and running. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you need less time to play and more time to dedicate to your studies.”
I scoffed at that. “Less time to play? Are you kidding? You’re the reason I play so much. You’re the one that has pushed it down my throat my entire fucking life!”
“Ryan, language, please!”
“Fine Linda, sorry. But it’s true. He was the one that was pushing me no matter what else I had to do or how tired I was or how many other things I had to give up. Now that he’s with you, he wants to act like this concerned parent when the rest of my life he’s simply acted like a concerned coach.”
“A coach? One that feeds and clothes you, cooked for you, cleaned your pig sty of a room, showed up for every parent-teacher conference, back to school night and anything else you had going on. How quickly we forget all of that, huh? The baseball thing was because you liked it. You wanted to play and you were good at it so I saw it taking you somewhere someday. I never once told you it was more important than your school work. I was never once okay with you failing a subject at school. You think because Linda is here you’re going to work her and get some sympathy. Well, you’re not! What the hell are you going to do if you don’t graduate? You think I’m going to pay for you to take some dumb shit equivalency test to get a diploma and then let you live here while you go to community college?”
“I’m not living here a minute longer than I have to, trust me!” That was the moment that Alex walked into the room. He came in the back door and when he heard me say that he stopped and took in all of our faces like he was trying to figure out what was going on. We locked eyes for a second and then he walked by, kissed his mom on the cheek and went upstairs. Lucky bastard.
Once he was gone Linda said, “I don’t think yelling at each other and calling names is going to get us anywhere. We need to sit down and find out why this is happening and figure out how to work toward a solution…don’t you think, Marty?”
I could see in my dad’s eyes that he wanted to yell at her. He wanted to tell her to shut up or stay out of it. He wanted to, but he didn’t. Dad has better impulse control than me, that’s for sure. Instead of doing any of those things he poured himself a cup of coffee and went over and sat down at the table next to her. He gave me a look and looked at the chair across from him. I rolled my eyes but I went over and sat down. I sat there feeling like I was at an inquisition. Linda went first.
“So let’s start by being honest Ryan because we can’t help you if we don’t know what you need, and that’s honestly what this is about. Your father and I want to help you. This could potentially affect how the rest of your life goes.”
“I don’t know what I need.”
“We could start with a thump upside the head,” my dad said, in all his wisdom.
“Marty! Look, Ryan, what I’m asking is this, would it be helpful to get you a tutor? If you’re genuinely having trouble with the work, we can do that. But, you’ll have to apply yourself.”
“I don’t want a tutor. I’m not an idiot.”
“Can’t tell it by your grades, that’s for sure.”
I stood up. “Look, I will bring the grades up. If I don’t and I don’t graduate then I know I won’t be sleeping on your couch, eating your food and going to community college, okay…I get it. You want me to be self-sufficient. I’ll handle it.” I started for the stairs and Linda called after me. I heard my dad say,
“Let him go. He’s right. He’s eighteen years old. It’s time he took some responsibility. Let him handle it. We coddle them both way too much.” Linda said something else but her voice faded as I climbed the stairs. I passed Alex’s room and his door was halfway open. He was sitting on his bed reading something. He’s always reading. If he’s not acting in one of his plays, he’s reading one. He looked up at me and I glared at him for no reason other than I felt like being a dick. He glared back. I almost laughed. The kid has got to be given credit for the size of his balls. I went into my room and slammed the door. The truth was that I was the only one in this house that I was pissed off at. I was the only one to blame for any of this. Not that I’d admit that to any of the rest of them, but I guess the fact that I know it is a start.
Chapter Three
Alex
I sat on my bed pretending to read the script for The Crucible when I heard Ryan coming up the stairs. From what I heard of that conversation, things are pretty bad with his grades. I knew that he wasn’t doing well, that’s obvious since he never cracks a book. But, I had no idea he might not pass senior year. He’s already been guaranteed a spot on NYU’s baseball team with the condition that he graduates with at least a 3.0. I only know that because Marty was so proud he nearly burst when Ryan got the letter and he told everyone that walked in the door since then about it. If Ryan doesn
’t graduate it can void the whole thing, or at the very least they’d have him redshirt the whole first year with no guarantees for the second. I laughed at myself and thought, I know way too much about baseball scholarships. It could be that if anyone searched my computer they’d find out that after Ryan got the letter I did my own research. I don’t know what it is about the muscle-headed ass that fascinates me so much. I wish I could be more like him and just not give a shit about anyone but myself. Right now I’m sitting here worried about him and my Mother both. She hates conflict. When it was just me and her there was none. She told me once that when my father got drunk he used to call her horrible names. It was her main condition when she agreed to marry Marty…no name calling. It was another huge reason that I tried not to involve her at all in the bullying I went through. I didn’t want her to even hear what they called me second hand. It would upset her too much and I couldn’t stand for her to be upset, about anything.
With a sigh, I put down the script and got up off the bed. I could hear the shower running in the bathroom between mine and Ryan’s room so I went to the top of the stairs and listened to see if Mom and Marty were still talking. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, I just didn’t want to interrupt them. I thought that I heard the lawn mower going in the front yard and the water running in the kitchen. I went downstairs and found Mom washing dishes.
“Oh hi, honey. I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk to you when you got home. How was your day?”
“It was good.” Except for that last part. “How about yours?”
“It was good,” she said almost wistfully.
“Really? Are you lying?”
She laughed and turned off the water and dried her hands. “I don’t lie.”
“No, but you soften things for me. I’m a grown man now, you know.”
She nodded. “I’ve noticed. I’m just worried about Ryan.”
“Is it that bad?”
“According to his counselor, he’d have to get a high “B” in everything from here on out in order to pass. I’m just not sure he can do that. It’s not that I think he’s not smart enough. I’m sure he is. But he’s just so unmotivated and he won’t accept any help.” She sat back down at the table and I sat down across from her. She looked so worried, I hated it. I hated for her to be anything but happy. I reached over and covered her hand with mine and said,
“What if I ask him?”
She looked confused. “Ask him what?”
“What if I tutored him if he’d agree to it?”
Her eyes softened again and she brought her other hand up and put it on the side of my face. “What did I do to deserve a son as good as you? You’re so good, you know that?”
I smiled at her. “Hey, I’m not guaranteeing anything and I doubt that he’ll even agree to it. But, for you, I will ask him.”
“I love you.”
I chuckled. “I know. I love you too. What’s for dinner?”
She looked at the clock and saw that it was already almost six. “Oh no! I got all wrapped up in things and forgot to put the chicken in. What about Chinese?”
“Sounds good. You want me to call?”
“No,” she said, standing up. “I could actually use some fresh air. I think I’ll drive down and pick it up. You want the usual?”
“Yeah.”
“Alex?” I was standing up to.
“Yeah, Mom?”
“You’re a good kid.”
“I’m a grown-ass man.”
She giggled. “You’re a good man then.”
“Thanks, it’s all in the way I was raised.”
I headed back upstairs now wondering if I’d bit off more than I could chew. Ryan will probably tell me to fuck off. But if he doesn’t and he agrees to this that will mean I have to actually spend time with him. On the one hand, I don’t mind looking at him. He’s freaking hot. I wish he was ugly and then my life would be a whole lot easier. But he’s not ugly, and he’s a dick head when he wants to be so other than the eye candy this is a losing proposition for me. I reached the top of the stairs and listened. The shower was off now so I went over and knocked on his door. “What!”
Dick-head, for sure. “It’s Alex. Can I talk to you for a sec?”
I figured this was the point where he would tell me to fuck off. But instead, I heard the bed creak and a couple of footsteps and then the door was flung open. Ryan was standing in front of me with a towel wrapped around his waist. His curly blonde hair was wet and little beads of water dripped down across his sculpted shoulders. His chest looked like steel with each muscle perfectly defined and he had a six pack with a small patch of golden hair that led down underneath the towel. The path that led to the treasure. Fuck. “Are you just going to stand there and stare or what?” Ryan actually looked amused. He knew how damned good-looking he was. He also knew I was gay. I’ll bet he’s loving this, knowing my mouth was watering for something I could never have. Dick-head.
“Sorry, I just wanted to let you know if you want help with your school work I’ll help you.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?”
“Yep. Why?”
“Because it’s upsetting my mother.”
His lips twitched. He has nice lips. They looked like they’d be soft…Jesus, I hated myself right then. “Mama’s boy to a fault.”
“Fuck you then.” I turned to leave and for the second time that day I felt his hand on my shoulder. Only this time I knew he was naked, or nearly so and it affected every part of my body. I pulled away and said, “What?”
“I could use some help.”
“Wow, did it kill you to say that?”
“Damned near,” he said with a grin. Then he shut the door in my face. Dick-head for sure.
I went back to my room and laid down on the bed presumably to wait for Mom to get back with dinner. But, that image of Ryan all naked and hard-bodied and wet hair was hard to get out of my head. I reminded myself what an ass he could be. I tried to remember every mean thing he’d ever said or done to me. Then I pictured that grin and the way the veins stood out on his arms and his neck. I closed my eyes and groaned. Not for the first time was my dick hard from some kind of interaction with Ryan. I don’t understand it. Apparently, my dick is a very superficial kind of guy. He doesn’t care how much of an asshole the person is on the inside as long as his outsides look like Ryan’s.
Chapter Four
Ryan
I was sitting in math class the next day. It’s statistics and I hate it, don’t get it, hate the teacher and would rather stick pencils in both of my eyes than ever have to look at another one of Mr. Fritz’s word problems.
“Mr. Reed?” I heard my name but I was so immersed in my thoughts that it was like I was asleep and someone was calling it out in a dream. I haven’t been able to get the look on Alex’s face when he saw me in the towel yesterday out of my mind. It was most definitely lust. I had to wonder why that didn’t piss me off. Alex is gay. He shouldn’t be looking at me like that and I shouldn’t be letting him. Did I answer that door in my towel on purpose just to get a rise out of him? If that’s the case then someone still needs to explain my own hard dick. Maybe I’m just an equal-opportunity exhibitionist. “Ryan Reed!” That time it was clear who was calling me. I looked up to the front of the class at my teacher Mr. Fritz. Everyone else was looking at me. Damn it.
I had to clear my throat and I tried to sound cool and bored as I said, “Yeah?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. Maybe if I said, “Yes sir,” instead, a few of my teachers might be willing to give me a break, but then I’d have to catch shit about it from my friends. Sometimes I think being an asshole might end up being the death of me.
“I asked you a question.”
“I didn’t hear you.”
“And why is that? Were you daydreaming? Making a grocery list? Or maybe I need to move you forward to the front row so that you can hear what I’m teaching?”
“Nope, I can hear you when I listen. I guess I should have just said I wasn’t listening. A few of the kids in the class giggled. That’s why I’m an asshole to the teachers. They think it’s cool.
“When you’re in my class I’d appreciate it if you would think about my class.”
“I’ll try.” I got more laughs for that.
“You do that. Did you do last night’s homework?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Family stuff.”
“Get out.”
I did think I didn’t hear him correctly that time. “Excuse me?” Shit! I hadn’t meant to push him so far. Fuck! After yesterday if they call Dad I’m dead.
“Get out of my class.”
“And go where?”
“I really don’t care. I just don’t want to look at your face anymore today. Check back with me tomorrow and we’ll see if I’m in the mood then.” Whew, it at least sounded like he wasn’t going to call Dad. Everyone was still looking at me. I stood up and picked up my book and my backpack. I slung it over my shoulder, grinned and winked at the girl that sits in front of me and has been crushing on me since the sixth grade. On my way out I gave Mr. Fritz a chin nod. He probably wasn’t going to let me come back tomorrow. Shit.