The Music Project (boyxboy)

five

        Despite the cold air from outside, my body seemed to turn the temperature up. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead, neck and collarbone, down to my jersey. My clothes clung to my body. I was exhausted. I kept regulating my breaths. I needed to calm down.

        I had already drank a bottle of water but the pressure seemed to overpower my lungs and muscles. I kept wiping the sweat off my arms. And I kept my eyes on the ball as it came to my direction once again. I threw my arms up and jumped, trying to block it. It slid right between my wrists.

       "Fuck," I muttered. I'll never be able to learn to block. Why was it so hard for me when it looked like a piece of cake when Hook demonstrated it for the nth time? This is so fucking unbelievable. I was not allowed to play a practice game today unless I return a ball to the other side through blocking. That sucks big time.

        Robby doesn't seem the type of person who will make it difficult for me to block an incoming spike. But, yeah, the fucker's so into it that he smiles whenever I fail. I wanted to beat his face so hard he won't show his face to the world ever again. But I kept my nerves on check.

        If I lose my temper, I'm toast. Like the cylinder phonograph's stylus and amberol. Fucking toast.

        Robby tossed the ball upward like a tennis player. He jumped when it was so high in the air and angled his left arm backwards like an archer would when he's about to shoot an arrow. Then he smashed the ball and sent it cannon-balling to my left.

        I side-stepped and jumped, throwing my left hand into the air, blocking the ball's entry. It rolled pass through my thumb, pointer finger and middle finger. It hurt but I did but I did a great job to pretend it didn't.

        I turned around and walked to the gym bleachers. "I need a break, coach," I said when coach eyed me. He was watching me practice. I sat on one of the benches and scooped a bottle of water from the cooler. I drank half of it.

        "You suck at blocking as much as I suck at rebounding." I didn't have to look to see who it was. I'd recognize that voice anywhere. "You look terrible, by the way."

        "Yeah, hi to you, too, Blisser," I said. He nodded in greeting. Since when does he do that? "You got lost or something?"

        "I've already been here a year. So, yeah, I'm lost." Snide. He does realize that we both like saying the word 'yeah', right? But, yeah, I think he doesn't. This is Linden Blisser I'm talking about. He doesn't notice small details. "Would you mind showing me around?"

        "What's he doing here, Sparkle?" Robby suddenly came into view. Nice timing. You know what I mean.

        "I'm spying on your team," Linden Blisser said, sarcasm flowed through his voice.

        Robby didn't seem to get it. Or maybe he did. If he did, he did a good job hiding it. "Nice try, blondie." He turned to me. "Come on, Sparkle. Back to practice."

        I didn't move. Robby glared at me. "It hasn't even been five minutes, Thief. Let me take a rest. We've already been at it for half an hour, anyway."

        "Fine, enjoy your time with your friend." He picked up a ball.

        "We're not friends," I said. Linden Blisser flinched. It was true.

        Robby clearly wasn't listening. He tossed the ball and jumped forward. Then, he smashed it so hard it went from the end of the court to the end of the gym. He was pissed off. Not that I'd care. Whatever his problem was, he should deal with it himself.

        "So, what are we, then, if not friends?" Linden Blisser was serious and his face was hard and... so damn serious.

        "Project partners, I guess." It was true.

        "Yeah, right." He shifted in his seat. "So, what's the plan for today?"

        "Don't you have practice?" I asked. He shifted once again and lifted his right foot. It was in a cask. He was still wearing his basketball jersey shorts. I liked how his short slid down the base of his thigh when he lifted his leg. "Oh. Figures."

        "Just took the wrong step, that's all." He looked disappointed.

        "Have you finished disassembling the recorder?" I asked.

        "Not yet. I plan on doing it only in your presence since we're in this together, like you said."

        "Fair enough," I said. "Give me fifteen for practice and another to get ready and then we're off."

        "Sure."

Later on that day, we still didn't finish disassembling the phonograph. Honestly, I had no idea why we needed to disassemble the thing just to assemble it again and make it work. I really didn't get the logic. Or whatever. But I didn't ask.

        We went on it for three days after my practice. He'd taken a seat in the bleachers and watched me practice while he waited. He couldn't practice because of his twisted ankle so he found a way to waste his time before we went to the outskirts and rent a hotel and figure the cylinder phonograph out.

        We talked about things. Especially about my older brother, Tom, and his wife, Annie, and about why the hell were they still staying with me and my mom and dad. We talked about Lucian and the incoming baby boy, whose name was still undecided. I wanted to suggest naming him something like Amberol or Stylus. Just me making fun. Not that I'd really suggest it.

        Linden Blisser talked about his parents and about being an only son. Mr. and Mrs. Blisser work at one of the state's government hospital. They're both doctors. We talked about his grandfather, who he and his parents will be visiting this weekend. So, no phonographs for us this weekend.

        We have a month to finish the project and Linden Blisser promised that we'd finish it by third week. So, yeah, it was cool. Passing the project ahead of time.

        I spent my saturday mowing the lawn in the morning and lifting weights in the basement after that. I haven't been able to lift weights during weekdays since I had a music project with Linden Blisser. So, yeah, I lifted weights for three fucking straight hours. How fun is that? By the time I was finished, Annie was preparing lunch but I was already asleep by the time she finished.

        Mom and Dad and Tom were home when I woke up, feeling a little twitchy, I wanted to sleep some more. I felt too tired but managed to eat supper with my family. Tom told jokes and we laughed. Lucian said his first word. "Theo," which was my name, apparently. Tom tried to act jealous because his son knew my name. He hilariously failed. I decided to let my nephew sleep in my room that night.

        I put on some music while playing an online game in my phone while Lucian was lying happily in my bed. He'd laugh to himself occasionally. His laugh made me smile. Then he'd repeat my name over and over again until he fell asleep. I decided to sleep on the cold floor that night.

        Sunday was the same. Except there was no lawn to mow but clothes to wash. In the afternoon, Linden Blisser texted.

I'm home. Want to do some project?

I replied. Sure. Not like I'd be doing anything. Well, aside from homework.

Meet me in the park. Bring an umbrella. I think it's gonna rain.