Love & Other Curses, 1985 | bxb | ONC 2024

CHAPTER 9 - Glory Days

There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand.

~ Mary Shelley, Frankenstein.

"Party at my house," Wally yelled, standing on a bench. He held one fist in the air with his other arm resting in a sling draped around his shoulder. The tag-along may not have been able to play in the game or bang in the mosh pit, but he knew how to wield his wealth and privilege to his advantage.

The team cheered, breaking into a chant, "Party. Party. Party."

Few things motivated the boys more than a bash at Wally's estate in Southborough. He had a whole wing to himself, with unlimited access to alcohol and whatever he needed to remain relevant. His parents conveniently left town anytime he had a "get-together" to avoid liability. They were already on their way to Martha's Vineyard for a relaxing weekend at their ocean-front cottage, a seven-thousand-square-foot summer getaway.

After the announcement, the boys stripped down to their birthday suits faster than Tony could run the forty-yard dash; the stud racked up more than two hundred yards running in the blowout win due to his blazing speed. A similar rush left jerseys, pads, pants, and jockstraps strewn all over the locker room as the team abandoned the mosh pit and packed the showers, leaving stragglers like Adam and Thomas waiting for a spot to free up.

Bruce Springsteen's new song Glory Days played in the background as they undressed with their backs to each other. They wrapped towels around their waists before turning to wait in the short line, unable to contain their blushing grins each time their eyes met. In the revelry and excitement, no one else noticed the two boys crushing on each other.

Adam still wore his black arm sleeves.

That drew several odd looks, but no one, including Thomas, said anything. Mud Boy was too preoccupied with Adam's six-pack abs and chest, seemingly carved from pliable stone as if he had been Michelangelo's muse. While Thomas loved to appreciate the beauty in others, the male form held his interest above all. He should have been born a Grecian. Where people saw muscle, he saw art, power, and poetry. Somehow, that had been ok in his mind because of his religion, not despite it, because God had created man, and Thomas admired all God's creations. The pretty boy, however, turned Thomas' worship into an aching torment that stirred the devil below.

Thomas adjusted his towel and looked away.

Adam gave up on hiding the unyielding smirk splitting his face each time Mud Boy teased him with a glance, his lips twitching upward as his pupils dilated at the blushing, green-eyed boy. He didn't understand how a football game had changed their relationship, but the result made him an instant fan of the sport. Hope burned brightly within him, leaving the Monster clawing at his thoughts, warning him, begging him in strident tones to leave the beautiful boy alone, urging him to remember what happened to those who dared to love a monster. Adam refused to acknowledge the darkest part of himself when light flooded his heart with each searching glimpse from the eyes of the innocent boy.

"Adam," Demos said, walking out of the shower. He toweled off, proud of what he had to show, remaining entirely unaware of the coy game he interrupted. "It's good to see you finally shower with the team, but what's up with the arm sleeves? Don't you ever take those off?"

"Sure, I do," Adam said. He flexed his biceps. "But I can't have you boys getting too excited by my guns."

Demos and the rest of the team laughed.

"But don't you worry," he continued, hanging up his towel. "The sleeves always come off for the ladies."

A chorus of "Ohhhh's" and "Ahhh's" rang out.