Straight Boys

Straighter

My lungs were on fire, my mouth dry and greedy for water, and the muscles in my legs ached with each step I took. My body felt on the verge of shutting down, it was horrible. And Zachary Rogers looked unfazed as ever, just throwing the coals into my fiery anger. However, just as I thought I was going to pass out from another one of those hour long running trips, a glimmer of hope sparked in me as I saw coach leaving his office with his weird hat and brown leather jacket.

Almost screaming with joy, I came to a staggering stop, bent over my knees and started to regain my breath. I was heaving, the uncontrollable instinct to hurl hard to scratch. I was dying, and it hurt a lot, but those were the cons of being on Coach Matthews football team.

"Wow... you're... such... a wimp." The heavy breathes of Zachary exclaimed next to me as he copied my actions. So he wasn't as unfazed as I thought, but he sure was in better shape than me. I wanted to tell him to shove his insult up his ass, but honestly, I could barely breathe, let alone open my mouth to form proper words or sentences. Curse him.

"Woooo! You did so good, Zach!" The sing-song voice of a certain ginger gracefully making her way towards the two of us tinkled it's way to my ears, causing my nerves to almost want to explode. She was just as bad as her boyfriend with her natural joy and happiness.

The red-headed cheer captain snatched her boyfriend up for a kiss, not caring that he was drenched in sweat like most girls would be. It disgusted me how horny those two seemed, with their tongues shoved miles down each other's throats. And in public, they were getting it on. I hated PDA, especially if Zachary Rogers and Taylor Haynes were the culprits.

"Hey, uh, Andrew. You were great out there." A soft voice chimed in from behind my hunched over form. Straightening up, I wiped my brow of a droplet of perspiration to look down at a five foot tall girl with a blonde pixie cut and thin lips. She blushed shyly, holding her hands together in front of me. It was kind of cute, so I smiled at her. She smiled back. "Thanks, Mandy." She giggled and nodded before strutting back to her friends hurriedly with her giddiness in tow. She was cute, short, and most likely still a Virgin by the way she acted around me. I mean, she definitely wasn't in my grade, probably a sophomore with her baby-like features. I didn't want to hurt her.

Shaking my head, I swiped the sweat off my forehead before turning to head for the showers, which were most likely empty because of the time of day and how long we were running for. It was almost eight o'clock.

Behind me, I left Zachary and his girlfriend be, too nauseated as is to break them apart. With wobbly strides, I pushed through the doors to the changing rooms, heading straight for the lockers. I was probably late for dinner, again, because of that stupid jerk. My mom was going to have a cow when I walked through her doors, and she was going to most certainly chew my ear off with her loud shouts of disapproval. My father, as always, would defend me but not before questioning me. I was still going to have to endure that kind of torture because of his incessent self.

Opening my locker up more roughly than necessary, I threw my helmet into the small, metal confinement. Slipping out of my pads, I kicked my shoes off with a little too much anger, and threw everything in one heaping mess on the ground in front of my locker. It was his fault I was angry. He just loved to get a rise out me, but too bad he wasn't around to see me at melting point.

The creaking of the door alerted me that Rogers was entering the changing rooms, letting me know that I had to straighten up if I wanted to leave on time - or as on time as I can possibly be when late. His heavy footsteps got closer, until he was walking around the corner of the lockers with swollen lips and a crooked smirk lasing said lips. Now I was the one staring at his lips.

Disregarding Zachary as if he wasn't even there at all, I started to undress and head to the showers. My stench was finally getting to my nose, and I smelt ripe. Getting behind the curtain, I turned the hot water on, not in the mood for a cold shower like usual. I needed the heat to sooth my throbbing muscles, which was also the reason why I didn't just leave to take a shower in my own bathroom. I was so sore, walking was some treacherous quest in its own.

As I finished relishing the feeling of relaxation, I finally shut off the water, wrapped my lower half in a towel and went back to my locker where my clothes were. Getting dressed into some basketball shorts and a loose T-shirt, I put on some tennis shoes and just sat for a minute.

It was nine o'clock probably, and I was exhausted. Fatigue was making itself comfortable in my body, causing my eyes to droop tiredly. I hoped I wouldn't fall asleep when driving back home, but that was unlikely.

"Hey, Parsley?" Inhaling as I was awoken from my half asleep state, I looked behind me towards the showers, where Rogers was standing with the curtain to his shower covering most of his body except his head. Droplets of water dripped from his newly clean face that had a sort of pleading look to it. "Could you hand me my towel?" Rolling my eyes, I stood up with and 'oomfph' and gripped his white towel that laid next to his gym bag. With much force, I threw the piece of cloth at him and he caught it, going back behind the curtain to wrap it around himself.

See what I mean? An idiot. Leaving their towel more than arms length away from them, who does that? Him, that's who, the imbec -

Inhaling deeply, my eyes widened as the boy of mention exited the shower in his towel, that was loosely hanging around his hips. My eyes raked down his body as if they had a mind of their own, staring at his defined figure. Now don't get me wrong, I had seen plenty from my years of being in football and having to share showers with fellow players, but this was different.

I was alone.

The boy I was looking at was my mortal enemy, obviously.

And I was drunk on sleep.

Yep, I was so tired, I was starting to check out one of my team mates, who admittedly had a nice body; better than my thin torso and chicken legs, that albeit attracted girls nonetheless.

Blaming my staring on my sleepiness, I cleared my throat awkwardly and looked away, the feeling of heat climbing it's way up my neck bothering me. Hell, the whole situation irked me. Why I was checking out Zachary Rogers, was an enigma to me. Some puzzle I could not for the life of me solve.

Glancing back toward the aforementioned to see if he noticed, a wave of gratefulness washed over me as I saw his back turned to away and his eyes not staring questionably or mockingly at me. To be truthful, if he questioned me, I don't know how I would answer him because I was confused about it myself. I was so confused, that I had to keep staring at the slight muscles in his back and tanned skin.

Pulling a face, I turned away again, snatched my bag up and ran out of the changing rooms like Speedy Gonzales. No way was I going to keep staring at Zachary like he was a piece of meat. I was going crazy. So, to bring back some of my sanity, I got into my car and sped out of the parking lot much more awake than I was three minutes ago.

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