Open [boyxboy] ✓

nine:: when your life is a teen movie.

[Andy]

NINE:: when your life is a teen movie.

The soccer field was my home away from home, we were a family, or at least that was what I thought as I walked into the boys' locker room before practice, my co-captain, Andy, on my tail. We were discussing his new ideas for the team and he hadn't once brought up the trending topic.

But regardless of our differences, we all wanted one thing and that was to win and to make a name for ourselves at school. So screw me for thinking they'd act like I wasn't any different from who I was before I came out. Screw me for thinking that nothing had changed.

So when one of the sophomores on the team approached me as I walked in, I greeted him. And he greeted me back but the mischief in his eyes only burned brighter, "Hey Julian, you know I was kind of wondering..." He looked around at his friends, making sure he had full attention of the locker room before getting in my face. His eyebrow was raised as he questioned, "When'd you become such a fag?"

I wasn't concerned about my captaincy or the fact that I could get him kicked off the team as I responded, pushing his shoulders sharply until he hurtled back into a locker. His back collided with the metal, my fists clenched as he pushed himself off and tensed up, squaring his shoulders before stepping closer, attempting to intimidate me.

I don't know what made me use violence but something in me was tired of just letting it slide off my shoulders. The only way people wouldn't think they could get away with shit was if you hit them back ten times harder.

"Ricky, you're running laps the entire practice," Andy, who I hadn't noticed was behind me, countered, he placed a hand on my shoulder as the guy in from of me tried to reason, "no exceptions," and then Andy turned to the guys' friends, "Anyone else wanna take a shot a the captain? We're a team and just because one of us likes dicks not chicks doesn't make us any less of a team. Go set up before Coach flips."

I turned to face him when everyone dispersed, Andy unpacking his jersey and shorts from his bag, stuffing the rest of his crap in his locker, "Thanks Andy."

What really got me was the fact that he had no problem whipping off his shirt to place another one on. He wasn't afraid to change, as if nothing had changed. I was undressing and digging through my sport bag when Andy responded, sitting on the long bench in the middle of the lockers, "You realized that could've cost you your spot on this team, right?"

Coach didn't tolerate any violence and I knew this so it even surprised me that I pushed that sophomore without any problem.

This caused me to roll my eyes although I knew he was right, "whatever."

It was silent as I found my jersey and pulled it on, my shorts and shoes already on. I pulled up my Nike socks, sitting beside Andy. He seemed to be deep in thought, he only stayed in the locker room when he had something to say, normally about the guys who he felt weren't pulling their weight on the team.

But when it was about the team, he wouldn't shut up and in the locker room that day, he seemed out of it.

Although I had a feeling I knew what was wrong, I had to ask, "You okay man?"

Andy had shook his head, eyebrows drawn together as his head turned and his brown eyes examined me. He licked his lips looking down at his phone before opening his locker and placing it in there, "Why'd you do it?"

Why'd I almost rearrange the guy's face?

"What?"

"Why'd you..." He seemed a little uncomfortable as he plucked at the Nike wristband he was wearing, "You know, come out?"