Playing For The Other Team [REMAKE]

Chapter 1

"Alright, boys! Gather up!"

Sixteen pairs of rubber-soled shoes squeak against the acrylic-coated gym floor, as the team of basketball players gathers around their coach for some final words before the end of their practice.

Henry Stephens - a tall man with broad shoulders and stern eyes - eyes the teenagers with an appeased smile on his face. "Good job today," he tells his team. "Dare I say, you look like future basketball champions. Keep this up, and that title is yours." His statement earns him a wave of low murmurs and smug grins. "Now, go and hit the showers, and don't be late for class."

A chorus of 'yes, coach," ring out as the crowd of teenagers starts to disperse.

"I mean it," Henry calls after them. "If I hear about any of you being late, you'll all be running extra laps next time!" His strict - albeit gentle - warning doesn't seem to have any effect of the boys that retreat to the locker rooms, and the coach let out a defeated sigh as he reaches out to put his hand on the one person that hasn't had time to escape yet. "Tell them I mean it, Nathan," he says.

The young man turns and looks at him with a smile and a half-hearted shrug. "Just because I'm captain doesn't mean they listen to me," he says. "I can't even get them in the right formation when I need to."

"Maybe if I double the number of laps..." The coach begins to murmur possible solutions to himself, and Nathan takes the opportunity to slip away.

The locker room is cramped and loud as usual.

When Nathan enters and lets the door close behind him, he has to navigate through a sea of sneakers and discarded bags that litter the floor. He brushes past his fellow teammates and makes if relatively safely to his locker, only tripping once on a stray water bottle that rolls out from underneath one of the benches.

The showers are no better. Wall-mounted shower faucets are separated by slim, white screens that are mostly there for marking out where one shower ends and the next begins while providing little to no cover. All showers are occupied. Those who are waiting for their turn, stand around with their towels wrapped around their hips, chatting and taking good care of where they rest their eyes.

Nathan is particularly careful. He does not handle the awkward situation - which his friends and teammates don't sense, or are very good at ignoring - and opts to let his gaze rest on the faucets or the tiled walls.

It had been approximately five months since he came out to himself, and the fact that he had had to build up the courage to admit his sexuality to himself was proof enough that he isn't ready for the rest of the world to know. Coming out hadn't changed him nor how he acted towards his friends. He doesn't feel much different, but he wonders if he'd be treated differently if the others knew?

It's not a risk he's willing to take, and his sexuality isn't anyone's business but his own. The others didn't need to know, and so Nathan has made himself comfortable in the closet.

Josh Davis - Nathan's best friend since kindergarten - remains oblivious to Nathan's realization, which is both an annoyance and a relief. "Nate, bro," he says when he bounds up to Nathan's locker. He's fresh from the shower with his large towel wrapped around his hips, and water dripping from his short hair. "You are by far the faster showerer I've ever met."

"You meet a lot of people in the shower?" Nathan asks, and unlike his friend, he's already half-dressed.

Josh gives his arm a friendly slap. "You know what I mean," he chuckles.

"You'd be quicker if you weren't so busy chatting the person in the neighboring shower up, you know," Nathan points out as he steps into his jeans, frowning at the wet spot Josh leaves as he steps over to his own locker. "Try setting a timer."