Page 20 of Caught Running
“We had Doritos and Dr. Pepper,” Jake interjected.
“So this cop sees him driving and drinking from this brown paper bag, right? And he pulls us over,” Troy went on, laughingas he spoke. “And he must have had something against sports, man, ‘cause he was all over us. We were all still in uniform and everything, and he makes Jake get out of the car to walk a line, right? Like he’s drunk! And he gets all up in Jake’s face and says, ‘Let me smell your breath, boy.’ So by this time the rest of us are just dying in the car, because Jake was like a foot taller than this cop anyway, and the guy’s all puffed up, and Jake’s been eating Doritos for like the entire day. And Jake goes, ‘I really don’t think you want me to do that.’” Troy was laughing so hard now he could barely keep up the story, pointing at Jake, who was grinning in amusement. “And the cop gets even more puffy,” Troy went on, snickering, “and Jake just shrugs and gives him a big ol’ whiff of Dorito breath,” Troy cackled. “God, it was funny,” he chuckled fondly.
Brandon’s eyes were wide. “So is that where the rumor that you got arrested came from?” he asked Jake.
“Maybe,” Jake drawled with a small smile. “No matter what I said, no one believed it had never happened.”
Brandon just shook his head, looked at the clock, and winced. 9:15. “I gotta go. C’mon, guys. Bus is leaving.” He headed back to the living room for his pack.
Jake was silent, pondering the sinking feeling in his chest. He could not be doing this. He could not be lusting after this guy, not Brandon Bartlett, not right now, not ever. He kept admiring the man, then reminding himself who Brandon was, and then either beating himself up for doing it or beating himself up for admiring Brandon in the first place. It was frustrating, to say the least.
Troy clapped Jake on the shoulder before following Brandon as Jonathan called out a pit stop on the way. Brandon leaned over to dig in his pack for his keys and slung his jersey over his arm. “Hey, Jake, you want me to wash this T-shirt and bring itback?” he called out as he stuffed the Under Armour in the back pack.
“Nah, just whatever works,” Jake murmured with a slight shiver.
Brandon nodded slowly, looking over to the man standing in the door. “See you tomorrow,” he said.
“Have a good night,” Jake offered, watching Brandon oddly. He started violently when Troy cleared his throat, ducked his head, and flushed slightly. “I’m going to bed,” he added in an embarrassed tone.
Troy looked at him sideways and nodded. “Night,” he said, following the other two men out to the car, leaving the head coach standing in the doorway to see them off.
“How many of those pills is he taking now?” Jonathan asked in a murmur as he walked with Troy.
“They’re just Tylenol Arthritis,” Troy answered with a shrug. “Whatever’s making him weird, it ain’t chemical.”
“Tylenol Arthritis out of a prescription bottle?” Brandon asked quietly as they climbed into the car.
Troy was silent for a moment, pondering. “I don’t ask about those bottles,” he finally answered.
They all fell silent until the stoplight, when Brandon remembered something odd Jonathan had asked about. “What was that about locker room duty, Jonathan?”
“Ah,” Jonathan murmured in response, obviously glad to change the subject. “Well, we usually make the rounds before games, sort of to keep things in line when the boys are all worked up.”
“Meaning?” Brandon prodded, wanting to know what to expect.
“Meaning the guys get a little riled up, both before a game and after a win, understandably. Just got to make sure theydon’t get out of hand with the jokes, pranks, slap and tickle,” Troy said.
“Slap and tickle?” Brandon asked, astounded.In the high school locker room?
Troy simply shrugged and neither he nor Jonathan seemed to find it at all unusual. “Usually all you have to do is be in the locker room,” Jonathan added. “Just your presence keeps them calmer.”
Brandon swallowed the questions that popped to mind as he pulled the Jetta into the parking lot and stopped at Jonathan’s car. “I’ll see you tomorrow, guys,” he murmured.
“Thanks for the lift,” Jonathan returned as he slid out of the back seat.
Troy sat there in the front for a moment, his hand on the door handle and his eyes watching Jonathan stroll to his car. “The prescriptions,” he finally said slowly, “are better than what he could be doing.”
He looked more serious than Brandon had ever seen him. “You know him pretty well, right?” the science teacher asked.
“Yes,” Troy answered as he jerked his head a little and his jaw tightened.
Brandon nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said softly. He wouldn’t pursue it. Not as long as Troy knew what was going on.
Troy waited for a moment, seeming to want to say more, but finally he tugged the handle on the door and pushed it open slowly. “Thanks for the ride,” he said softly before exiting the car and walking to the golf cart parked in the grass.
Brandon thought about that look on Troy’s face a lot on the way home.
It was the second day of March and a Friday night, which meant the home team’s supporters were out in full force. Jake liked to have the first game of the season be an away game. It took some of the pressure off, for the most part, but there were drawbacks. Like the loss of the home field advantage and the hourlong bus drive to Powder Springs.