The Five Stages of Gayness

Chapter Twenty-Three - Date Night

ADRIEL

Chapter Twenty-Three

I stared off into the distance, towards the sky above the field behind Clint High. In the blue-gray afternoon sky, above the grass, hung sunlit raindrops shimmering in a thousand colours.

A rainbow.

I shouldn't have been surprised by the sight. It had just rained, after all. But there it was, painting the sky, and it suddenly had a significance I'd never noticed before. The colours were entrancing, mesmerizing, blending together into a thousand dancing harmonies.

Until something heavy hit my football helmet, that is. I felt the pigskin bounce off my protected head and land on the ground. I'd missed yet another catch. I dimly heard the shrill ringing of the Coach Thompson's whistle sound as I turned to face him.

"Adams!" He yelled. "What the Hell are you doing?" He waved his clipboard at me from the sidelines.

"Sorry," I called back.

The coach put his head in his hands.

"Whatever," He sighed. "Let's try this again, boys!" He announced. "And Adams, try not to mess up this time." I nodded as I jogged back to my starting position.

Coach Thompson whistled the signal to start and the two lines of players instantly slammed into each other. I didn't know where the ball had gone, and I didn't really care. I was looking at the rainbow again, and I couldn't focus on anything but my date that night. I had to meet Alex at an adress a block away from his house so we could go to wherever it was he was taking me. I figured that we could never be too careful. Me, wholesome Christian boy, going off with a known gay in his car... People might talk. Nonetheless, I was looking forward to being able to show my feelings for him. For a few hours, I'd be able to stop pretending and just be me.

I felt a large weight slam into me, pinning me to the ground. I heard the whistle as the other boy got off me, helping me up. I dusted myself off, the coach angrily walking towards me. When he got up to me, the middle aged redhead roughly grabbed my helmet, pulling me closer.

"Adams, what's your problem?" He demanded.

"Nothing, coach," I said meekly.

Coach Thompson let go of my helmet, sending me backwards. I stumbled, then righted myself.

"May I remind you," He said, pointing his clipboard at me. "That we have a game against MacDonald High next Friday. That's one week. Seven days."

"I'm aware," I responded sincerely.

"Oh, you're aware?" The coach spluttered. "I don't know what's got into you, but you've been underperforming all year, and I need my quarterback to be on the same page as me. So whatever shit is going on, I don't care, just deal with it. Okay?" I nodded. "Good. I'm going to give you one more chance. So get out there," He encouraged, pointing with his clipboard towards the football field, "And play."

"Yes, sir."

I ran back to my starting position, determined to do well. I heard the whistle that marked the beginning of the game. I started running in the direction of the line. I looked back, seeing the ball coming my way. I caught it easily. I was not going to think about Alex. I was not thinking about his deep, entrancing blue eyes, or his radiant smile, or the way he chewed the end of his pencils when he was thinking, or anything else about him. My mind had to be completely on the game, sharp as a--

Someone pounced on me, and we both rolled to the ground. I groaned as the monstrous guy crushed me. The person in question got off of me. I got up with difficulty, trying to stretch out. The other football player looked at me apologetically. I saw the coach put his face in his hands.