Two Weeks in Europe ✓

29

The following Saturday's ice-cream-hangout with Mr. Douglas was nervously anticipated by Cas all throughout the week. As he trudged through the rain to Jamie's Friday football practice, a hardcover copy of The Sun Is Also a Star in his hand (he had bought it the previous day at the local bookstore), he found himself wondering how the whole thing would go. Would Mr. Douglas be his normal, charming self, or would he treat Cas differently now that Paul had spoken up about knowing of Cas's, ahem, relations with Jamie? It wasn't as if Paul didn't know Cas - he had been coming over nearly every day without fail for the past nine years, after all - but he had never really gotten to know Cas.

Cas sat down on the rain-soaked bleachers, grateful for the navy raincoat he had brought. He tugged the hood over his head, squinting through the rain at the (fairly soggy) page in front of him. "Hey!" Jamie called from the field. Cas looked up. Jamie gave a little wave. Cas waved right back. The bleachers were generally empty, save for Cas, and it was no uncommon occurrence to see him there. Cas had no idea what the rest of the football team must've thought of this peculiar situation, but he didn't much care. He was, more or less, known to the school as Jamie's best friend.

Jamie was, in fact, quite popular. This came as no surprise to Cas, considering that Jamie was the good-natured, good-looking football quarterback. Was he thrilled that girls threw themselves at Jamie? Not particularly. Jamie was gay, on the other hand, so it didn't really matter. Cas winced at the pain in his right side as he flipped the page. Last night had been spent curled up on the floor of his bedroom silent-sobbing. But nobody needed to know that.

The football players shouted something unintelligible that sounded an awful lot like "Mike" before a ball went whizzing across the field. If there was one thing that Cas had no interest in learning about, it was football. He sniffed in distaste as someone got tackled to the ground. No, football was not for him. Jamie seemed to enjoy it, though.

If Jamie was the good-natured, good-looking football quarterback, then Cas was the antisocial (yet still somehow charismatic) rich boy who had an odd love for all things literature. Girls made passes at him too (albeit drunken ones), though Cas brushed them off. He had eyes only for Jamie, it was true. Cas was, at times, dumbfounded by the school's obliviousness, stupidity, and ability to trick themselves into believing what they wanted. To him, his feelings for Jamie were beyond obvious, almost uncomfortably so at times. To the rest of the school, however, Cas and Jamie were simply bosom buddies.

Jamie pulled off his football helmet, running a gloved hand through his rain-slicked hair. Cas tore his eyes away from Jamie's bicep hastily as one of the other players looked up. No need to make it any more obvious than it was, he figured. He amused himself with the book in his hands. It was a good story, and Cas was overly invested in the plotline already. He heard a shout from the field and looked up again. At this rate, he wasn't going to be finding out what would happen to Daniel and Natasha anytime soon. The football boys were laughing at something loudly. One of them slung his arm around Jamie's shoulders, and Cas felt the burn of envy in his chest. How he wished he could so easily do the same. Even friendly gestures passed between him and Jamie in public seemed to spark electrically with sexual tension, however, so Cas was in the habit of avoiding touching Jamie at all outside of their houses.

"Hey."

Cas glanced up. "Hi."

It was Grace, one of Jamie's many friends. Cas could say with honesty that he didn't hate her presence as he did so many of the idiots who attended this school. "What's up?"

Cas shrugged. "Just reading."

"Nice," Grace said, though Cas got the idea this was more out of politeness than anything. "Can I sit?"