Page 19 of Caught Running
Jake rolled his eyes, remembering the day years ago when his own boxers had been strung up in celebration of a win over their rival. “We don’t do that anymore,” he assured the man. “Anysort of hazing these days gets you kicked off the team,” he added pointedly as Troy beamed at him.
“Does committing evil and unnatural acts upon my limes count as hazing?” Brandon asked mock-seriously, glaring at Troy. Jonathan snickered.
“Just toss ‘em out,” Jake said quickly, shaking his head as if to ward off the images. “You know, man, doing that often enough will get you a pretty seedy reputation,” he added to Troy.
“I’m secure in my manhood, Curly,” Troy chuckled in return, gulping down the last of his Corona with a grin.
Brandon had to laugh. “Curly?” He looked at Jake’s close-cropped hair.
Jake blushed mightily and lowered his eyes, practically waffling as he sat there. “If my hair gets any longer it starts curling,” he explained. “You remember school. Curly was the best of the names,” he shrugged with a glance up at Brandon as Troy and Jonathan laughed.
The science teacher tilted his head, a mischievous glint lighting his eyes, and he warbled lightly, “Thunder, thunder, thunder, Thundercat!”
Jake’s eyes shot up to stare at the man incredulously, surprised at the complete about-face in his demeanor, and Troy barked a laugh and pointed at him, giggling like a little boy. Brandon started laughing hard, almost falling over on the couch. “What?” he asked between snorts. “You don’t remember that one?”
“I thought I threatened anyone who remembered that one into amnesia,” Jake blurted as Troy held his side and wallowed on the couch, snorting and laughing uncontrollably.
Brandon tried to shrug, but he just laughed harder. “I guess you missed me, then. Lord. It wasallover the school. Even on the walls in the bathrooms.” Jonathan and Troy started up with fresh peals of laughter.
Jake shifted uncomfortably. “Why?” he practically whined. That had been the one call at the football games that he had never understood. The cheerleaders had even taken it up for a few games.
Eyes widening in shock, Brandon just stared at him. “You don’t know why? Hell, I even know why. Remember the cartoon? ‘Thundercats’? The leader was this young guy who bellowed and led the rest of the team in the fights for victory. It was a compliment, man, when you were on the football field. Even if itisfunny as hell, now.”
“Cartoon?” Jake echoed dubiously. He huffed and blushed even harder as he finished his beer.
“Geez. I’ll get it from Netflix for you,” Brandon said, shaking his head. “Just believe me, it was a compliment.” He smirked again before nudging Jake’s knee with one foot, stage whispering “Speedball.”
“Okay, enough reminiscing!” Jake cried as he waved his hands through the air and closed his eyes. “God,” he groaned. “It was embarrassing enough back then; the years just add to it.”
Jonathan and Troy were reduced to nearly crying snickers, and Brandon pressed his lips together, trying to put on a straight face and failing miserably. “Those are a hell of a lot better than anything I was ever called,” the science teacher pointed out reasonably.
“You can only compete if you had a bleacher load of people shouting it,” Jake challenged, reddening further at the memories of some of the games. It hadn’t been all that bad until the other team started laughing. Of course, usually they had only laughed until they were being beaten. “Man, even opposing players called me that.”
Troy snorted. “It just made you madder and then we beat the hell out of them.” Brandon remembered that Troy’d been Jake’s wide receiver. Jonathan, who’d been laughing the wholetime, stood up, climbed over Brandon yet again, and sang ‘Thundercats’ on his way to the kitchen for more beer.
Jake growled dangerously and hunched his shoulders, still blushing heavily and glaring at them all. Brandon couldn’t help but titter again, then he took pity on Jake. “Sorry, man,” he murmured. But he was still smiling widely.
“Bastards,” Jake responded sulkily. God, it was embarrassing, having those memories dredged up. And he wasn’t quite sure why. He wondered if perhaps the fact that he’d been lusting over Brandon all fucking afternoon, that all the man remembered of him was these stupidass nicknames, and that he yelled had anything to do with it.
Jonathan came back with another three bottles and a Coke for Brandon, handing them around. “Now,” the freshman coach said. “Any other juicy gossip we need to know about?” he asked.
“Gossip? I’ve got some on Parkview, but do you know the staff?” Troy asked the middle school teacher. Jonathan just beamed. “Fine,” Troy said. He glanced around at the other guys. “I heard Renata caught Jason Beals and Tammy Parker in the art studio closet.”
“Hell, I’ve run them out of the locker rooms before,” Jake laughed with a shake of his head. “Ugh,” he added as he realized what he’d said. “I think I need to go duct tape my mouth closed now,” he groaned, standing up and grabbed his three empty beer bottles. “Pills have kicked in, boys.”
“I need to get going,” Brandon said regretfully. “You guys crashing here?” he asked Troy and Jonathan.
“I’ll take a ride back to the school, if you’re offering,” Troy nodded as he stood with an uncharacteristically worried frown, watching Jake walk into the kitchen.
“Me too,” Jonathan answered, beginning to gather up the pizza.
Brandon followed Troy’s eyes. He figured those two were pretty good friends, despite the blond’s constant ribbing. And if he looked worried... Brandon shook his head and shoved the book back into Jake’s duffle, gathering up empty bottles to take to the kitchen. Troy and Jonathan followed him, each carrying a pizza box and a few bottles. Jake was seated on his kitchen counter, legs swinging free and beer in his hand, and Troy chuckled as he placed the pizza on the counter.
“Man, how many nights did we do this after games?” the blond mused, suddenly serious again. He turned to Jonathan and Brandon and smiled. “After every Friday night game we’d come here. Nearly half the team. Everyone in school thought we all went out drinking and partying and shit. But we’d come to Campbell’s house, his mom would make us fried chicken, and we’d hang out in the back yard all night with a bonfire. I don’t even remember there being beer, man,” he said to Jake fondly.
“Hell no,” Jake huffed. “My dad would have skinned us all.” He laughed with a shake of his head. “Doritos and Gatorade, man. Food of the gods.”
Troy snorted and pointed at Jake, grinning widely. “You remember that night we were driving home from that tournament in Atlanta?” he asked with a laugh. Jake smiled and shook his head at the memory, glancing at Brandon and Jonathan apologetically for the reminiscing that was leaving them out. “We had driven there for this Saturday tournament,” Troy went on, telling them the story, “and on the way back it was us and two other guys in Jake’s car. We stopped at a gas station somewhere and got some snacks to hold us over, and when we got back in the car Jake just drank his drink from the bag as he drove.”