Played (20 page)

~~~

I didn't stop to think what Coach would
think when three angry woman, a distressed boy and one of his players tumbled
into his office. Coach jumped to his feet, sending his desk chair crashing
backward into the wall. Before he could even ask why we were there, the story
started pouring out of me, with Coach looking from one to another of us in
growing dismay. Finally, I stopped to draw breath.

"Hold on just a second," he said,
holding his hand up palm out to stop me from resuming my tale. "You're the
one who made that call?" he asked Rick.

"Y-Yes, sir," Rick mumbled, his
head down and his voice so soft we could barely hear him.

"Speak up, son!" Coach boomed,
causing Rick to start shaking again. I put my arm around him.

"Don't yell at him. You don't know
what he's been through. He said yes." Coach opened his mouth, but my glare
evidently made him reconsider whatever he intended to say. After a moment, he
spoke, this time in a more moderate tone of voice.

"You're here to tell me that you made
the call, and that you were lying?"

"Yes, sir." Rick had gathered
some courage from somewhere. His head was now up and he spoke clearly.

"Why would you do that?" Coach
asked.

"It was a misunderstanding, sir. I
thought he'd harmed someone I…care about."

"Who?" I must have been speaking
too quickly when I'd gone over this before, but now it occurred to me that it
really didn't matter and was actually none of Coach's business.

"Why does it matter? Making him say
more will just embarrass him for no reason. Just take it at face value, would
you?" If I'd stopped to think about what it must look like, my defiant but
relatively frail body in a battle stance against Coach, easily six-foot-six and
approaching three-hundred pounds, I might have laughed, or been too struck by
the incongruity to keep it up. But, I didn't. I felt like Joan of Arc, and I
wasn't going to let this boy be sacrificed, no matter what harm he'd done. Far
more harm had been done to him.

It seemed the tableau we were locked in was
frozen for an eternity, before Coach broke it by turning to find his chair. He
sat down heavily.

"Well, it appears that I've acted without
all the evidence, but this doesn't mean the investigation can be called off.
I'll have to give it some thought. Young man, I'll need your name and contact
information, and I'll ask you to come in and give your statement to the faculty
committee that will be assessing the results of the investigation."

Rick turned even whiter, and I braced him,
trying to tell him without words that it would be okay. My thought was selfish,
too, as I was already scheming to get him to testify as to the nature of his relationship
with Mackey. It would be different in a formal setting; important to his
motives. Once that information was given to a committee of faculty members,
they would have to report it to the Dean as well. Then Mackey's suspension
would be made permanent no doubt, and good riddance. If what I suspected were
true, I no longer had any compassion for him or his career.

I also had a more immediate concern.
"Coach, you told me you'd let Drew play if I brought evidence."

"No, I didn't. I said I'd take it under
advisement. That's what I'm doing. I haven't said he can't play, but I need to
consult with my assistant coaches and possibly the Dean before I decide. The
sooner you people get out of here and stop interrupting my work, the sooner I
can do that."

I slumped. I'd done my best, and it wasn't
good enough. Glumly, we all shuffled back out into the hall, there to separate
and go our own ways. However, I wanted to talk to Rick alone.

From the time Alicia reminded me of him,
I'd been trying to put my finger on what was so off about Rick. Yes, he was
effeminate, but that wasn't unusual. I hadn't been well acquainted with anyone
who was gay before, but some gays made themselves very noticeable on campus, so
I had a stereotype in my mind. Rick didn't match it. Nor, now that I thought
about it, did he match the perceived age of the other sophomore boys in class.

I was familiar with the appearance of age
and physical development of boys from about sixteen to twenty or so, because
Russ took in so many at the ranch. Unless I missed my guess, Rick was no more
than seventeen, maybe younger. Why he could be that age and a college sophomore
escaped me, but I had to find out.

"Rick, how old are you?"

He gave me a desperate look, his eyes so
wide that virtually all I could see was white. "I'm guessing seventeen. Am
I right?"

He dropped his head into both hands,
shaking once more, and nodded. I had two burning questions.

"How did you get to be a college
sophomore at seventeen, Rick?" I asked, using the softest voice and
gentlest words I could think of.

"I was home-schooled until my mom sent
me to private high school," he said. "I graduated at sixteen, and
advanced-placed most of my freshman requisites."

Unbelievable. I was in the presence of a
probable genius, and yet Mackey had taken him in as much as he had me. I began
to feel better about myself. The evil bastard was just good at his hobby. This
brought up my next question. Mackey had once commented on my youth. If I hadn't
been eighteen, would he have found a way to justify his actions anyway?

"Did Justin know how old you were when
he first…touched you?" I asked, not knowing how to describe what gay men
might do together. I simply had no idea.

"Not at first. I lied, told him I was
eighteen. Later, I had my birthday and accidentally let it slip."

"Wait, you were
sixteen
the
first time?"

"Yes."

"And then, when he found out, he
still…"

"Yes. I told you, he loved me. Or I
thought he did," Rick added with a bitter twist to his mouth.

"Rick, when you talk to the faculty
committee, you have to tell them this." What Mackey had done wasn't just
unethical; it was criminal. I had good reason to know that. He needed not only
to lose his job permanently; he should be in jail. How many more were there?
Did he seek out the youngest-looking and then justify his actions by reasoning
that if we were in college we must be of age? I shuddered. He was no better
than my ex-husband, who was serving his sentence for statutory rape because of
me and my four sister-wives that Russ and Charity had rescued.

Rick had a question of his own. "What
will they do to him?"

I answered truthfully. "I don't know
for certain, but whatever it is, he'll deserve it."

I should have been happy. Drew got to play
that night, and they won. Rihanna pointed out a well-known pro scout in the
stands, and we quickly turned to see his reaction after every play in which
Drew excelled, gratified to see him making notes. I felt sure he'd approach
Drew, though Ri told me there were strict rules about when and how, and not to
get excited just yet.

Furthermore, Rick told the truth, including
his age, with the result that Mackey was arrested. Once that news became public,
an astounding number of students came forward with their own tales. Mackey had
successfully intimidated them into silence with the threat of ruining their
college grades if they talked. For a while, I was bitter at the other victims,
since their silence had let him get away with his predation for so long.

I fell into a pattern of sleeping whenever
I wasn't in class, and paying too little attention to personal hygiene. I'd go
to class with unwashed hair, wearing whatever I happened to be wearing when I
woke up, usually flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top with flip-flops on my
feet. Easter came and went, but I didn’t attempt to go home for it. In
hindsight, I just existed until I could leave and never come back.

I didn't count on Ri's interference, though.
After several weeks of enduring my lethargy, she pounced on me one Friday
evening. "Get up and go shower. You stink."

"Who cares?" I retorted.

"I do. And you should. Get up or I'll
get some of my guy friends to get you up and throw you in the shower with all
your clothes on."

I opened my eyes. Ri was fully capable of
doing that, and I knew it. I groaned as I rolled over and up to a sitting
position.

"That's better. Come on, I'll help
you."

It was only Ri's threat to come in with me
and wash my hair that animated me beyond the bare minimum. "I can do
it."

"Then do it. We're going out."

"Ri, I don't want to go out."

"Do I give a shit? I have a date for
you, and you're going. We're doubling, I'm going out with his friend, and I'm
counting on you."

With much groaning and protesting, I
managed to shower and then sit patiently while Ri fixed my hair and put on my
makeup. She'd laid out some clothes for me, a cute sundress with spaghetti
straps that tied at the shoulders and matching strappy sandals. I couldn't find
my strapless bra and she told me to forget it. A wisp of lace that she called a
thong and I called a torture device was her choice of my underwear. When I got
home, I intended to burn it, along with the several other examples in my
lingerie drawer, thanks to Ri.

Two cups of terrible dorm-room brewed
coffee later, I looked much better than I felt, and Ri pronounced us ready to
go.

"Where are we going?"

"That's for me to know and you to find
out," she teased. Since there was no one to pick us up, I assumed we were
meeting our dates later.

"Give me your car keys," Ri
demanded.

"What?"

"Your car keys, bi-otch. I'm driving,
and I don't want to take my old beater. Give me your keys."

Still without much volition, I dug in my
purse and found the keys, handing them over dutifully. Ri drove like a maniac,
but I couldn't summon the energy to care. Half an hour later, we were walking
into a club at the south end of the valley, where I'd never been before.

I didn't know what to expect, but when we
got inside after Ri paid the cover for both of us, it was as if we'd entered an
alien world. Instead of a small, ill-lit space with a tiny dance floor like
most of the places we'd been near campus, we were in a huge space with an
unfinished ceiling, revealing metal tRuss’s, wiring, light fixtures and other
mysterious objects, like the large pipe that looked like it was wrapped in
aluminum foil snaking around the entire area.

The noise was incredible. A live band was
on-stage, and the large dance floor was filled with people of all ages. I
turned to Ri to comment on the fact that there were two bars, to find her
standing on tiptoe and looking around.

"What are you looking for?" I
shouted into her ear.

"Our dates," she mouthed back at
me. I couldn't help her, since I didn't know who my date was, so I kept people
watching until I spotted the last person I would have expected to see here. I
clutched Ri's arm and pointed.

"What's he doing here?" I
shouted.

"He's your date," she shouted
back, then smirked at me. Just then, he spotted us, and dragged someone else up
with him to come to us. Drew and Greg. What was Ri thinking?

"Give me back my keys," I growled
at her, but of course, she couldn't hear me. Then the guys were there, and
there was no escape.

"Hi, Janey," Drew said, with a
big smile. I looked suspiciously at him. What kind of a game was this?

"Hi?" I returned.

"Want to dance?" Well, it would
keep us from talking, so sure. I handed my purse to Ri and followed Drew onto
the dance floor. The song was fast, easy to dance to and loud enough to make
any conversation impossible. I actually enjoyed it, to my surprise. It felt
good to move, after weeks of sitting or lying down. I didn't realize how much I
missed simple exercise. The next dance posed a problem, though. We'd joined the
crowd late in the song, so it was over within a minute or two, and the band
switched up the tempo. This was a slow dance.

Before I could object, Drew pulled me into
his arms and led me deeper into the crowd. I had tensed up, so I kept stumbling
when he turned us, but he kept a firm grip on me and didn't comment. Wrapped in
his arms, I laid my head on his chest, the most comfortable place to put it due
to the ten-inch difference in our height. Only Drew could make me feel small, I
thought.

I caught his familiar scent and my body
remembered the good times and relaxed. Nothing could have broken the ice better
than that slow dance. By the time it was over, I was resigned to my evening
with Drew. I actually hoped that we'd finally be able to resume our easy
friendship.

When we got to our table, Greg and Ri were
missing, but both purses were tucked into the seats at the back of the booth. I
checked mine quickly and found everything as it should be. Then, from sheer
spite, I checked Ri's for my car keys. They weren't there. Now I was well and
truly trapped with Drew, and since I'd already decided to make the best of it,
I plastered a smile on my face and asked him for a margarita.

During the short break between the next two
songs, I asked about Ri and Greg. "I thought they didn't hit it off?"
I said, avoiding the occasion because of our own history.

"They didn't, but after you guys got
together to do battle for me, they tried again. This time they clicked."
Why hadn't I known this?
Because you've been so self-absorbed you wouldn't
have known if the sky had fallen,
my conscience told me. It shook me to
realize I didn't remember anything that had happened for the past several
weeks. What else had I missed? I didn't even know whether I was doing well in
my classes or had blown off all the homework. I must have suddenly looked lost,
or frightened.

Drew put his hand over mine. "What's
wrong, Sugar?" It was the first time in months that he'd called me that,
and my heart lurched.

"I, I'm not sure," I confessed.
"It's like I just woke up from a long dream, and I don't know where I
am." Suddenly, I felt sick. I slid to the edge of the booth and jumped to
my feet, looking wildly for a restroom. Drew was beside me in seconds.

"What can I do?"

"Restroom! I'm going to be sick,"
I gasped. Drew snatched my purse from the table and carried it with him as he
hurried me to the nearest ladies' room.

"Do you need help?" he asked.

"Find Ri for me, please. Hurry!"
Drew rushed away, and I went in to splash cold water on my face and try not to
throw up, at least until Rihanna came. After only a few minutes, she came
rushing in with a wild look of concern on her face. When she saw me at the row
of sinks, she stopped, confused.

"Drew said you were sick," she
accused.

"I was. I am. Ri, how long have I been
out of it?"

"Out of what, your mind? I'd say about
three weeks," she said, one eyebrow raised.

"Have I been going to class?" That
question made her look at me more closely.

"Yeah, but you haven't done much
homework. Every time I come back to the dorm, you're crashed in bed. I haven't
seen you eat in three weeks, either. Janey, you're depressed. You need
help."

"No shit," I answered.

We managed to get through the evening, Drew
treating me as a fragile invalid, dancing only the slow dances and insisting on
feeding me when Ri mentioned I hadn't been eating. I was mortified. How could
he not know that he was part of my funk, despite my hope to keep it from him?
To disguise my unsettled feelings, I flirted with him and pretended my
momentary illness had been nothing. I noticed that Ri kept her eyes on me all
evening, though, before she deemed it time to go.

"Greg, I need to drive Janey back to
the dorm. Do you and Drew want to follow us? I'll drop Janey off, and then we
can go somewhere else if you want." I didn't miss the wink that
accompanied that observation, nor Greg's brightening countenance. No doubt,
there was a hookup in progress. I was glad for them.

~~~

Drew hopped out of the car when Janey
stopped to drop me at the curb, coming around to my door to open it and
accompany me to the dorm's front door, just like old times. With each step
toward the dorm, my anxiety increased. Would he try to kiss me? If he did,
would I let him? I'd sworn off men, I reminded myself. Three or four weeks weren’t
long enough. I still didn't know what I wanted from a man. A casual friendship?
Sex? Forever after? Until I knew, it wasn't fair to date and lead them on. Not
to mention the fact that I apparently had no clue how to judge a man's intentions
or how to protect myself from actual or emotional harm.

Step by step, we approached the dorm, with
my thoughts in turmoil. I imagined it felt like this to a condemned man walking
toward the death chamber. Drew may have been going through the same uncertainty,
as his hand was squeezing mine tighter and tighter. When we reached the stand
of trees that used to be our trysting place, where he kissed me so sweetly
before our fight, his step hesitated. I heard him draw a deep breath.

"Janey, if it's okay with you, I'd
like to kiss you goodnight. No tongue," he added with unexpected humor. I
couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay, since you asked so nicely. But
no tongue, like you agreed," I said. Then I winced, why had I thought it
necessary to add that last sentence? Totally unnecessary, and it made me sound
like a dweeb. He pulled me off the sidewalk and under the shelter of the now
fully-leafed out tree and my heart raced. I'd always liked kissing Drew. Would
it be the same?

His arms went around me and I tilted my head
to meet his gaze. Then his warm lips found mine, and the weeks since our last
kiss melted away in his familiar taste and feel. First a long kiss with his
lips moving on mine, then he nuzzled my jaw line to the soft spot behind my ear
that never failed to arouse me. I clutched at him, unable to stop myself.

Drew pulled his face back to search mine,
and then covered my mouth again, this time pushing his tongue ever so slightly
at the seam of my lips, until I opened, my resolve to avoid tongue forgotten in
the moment. I met his tongue with mine, and then he deepened the kiss until I
relaxed completely. His arms held me up, as my legs weren't capable of it. This
moment was all there was. The kiss was perfect; it didn't need to lead anywhere
or be or mean anything other than pure pleasure. I moaned.

After a while, Drew broke it off and gazed
at me longingly. "Was that real, or was it the margaritas?" he asked.

"Drew, I don't want to mislead you. I
don't know. I like kissing you."

"What else do you like?" he whispered,
his blue eyes nearly black with desire.

"You know what I like," I
whispered back. "But before it can happen again, I need to be sure how I
feel. Give me some time, Drew, please. Maybe some space. I'm nineteen years
old, and I need to learn about the world before I settle down with one man. Can
you understand?" It was the most honest I'd ever been able to be with him,
and even with myself.

Drew let me go and straightened. "I
can understand. I don't like it, but I do understand. Janey, you need to know,
you're the only girl for me. I've decided to stay for my senior year, and I
hope we can hang out. Is that too much to ask?"

He'd delayed his NBA bid for me! But, I was
planning not to return next semester. Now I felt confused and panicked. The
last thing I wanted to do was hurt him again, but what about my own plans?

"Drew, I'm not sure I'm coming back
next year. I'm sorry."

"I'm staying anyway. I hope you change
your mind." With that curiously flat statement, Drew put his hand on my
back to guide me onto the sidewalk and up the stairs to the dorm. "Good
night, Janey."