What My Best Friend Doesn't Know (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Four: Ryan

To tell you the truth, I was lying to James. I was acting strange because all of a sudden it seems like a switch clicked in my head. I had always known James was an attractive guy, but I never thought I would be the one to actually think I might like him more than a friend. 

This had been happening a lot recently. He'll be doing something normal like playing a video game, reading a book, or even just pouring a glass of juice, and I'll find some reason to stare. 

I'm going insane. 

We're walking out of the bathroom to the cafeteria, and he has his arm wrapped around my shoulders like he normally does. Recently though I've been feeling uncomfortable when he does it. Not uncomfortable in the sense of I want him to get off, but uncomfortable in the sense that I don't want him to ever take his arm away. I really am going crazy. 

We sit down at the table after going through the lunch line to get food, and are immediately met with an explosion of conversation.  Everyone was talking about summer, and what sports they were trying out for, and other random stuff like that. 

"So Ryan," one of my teammates on the soccer team, Tyler, starts, "Are you hoping to be goalie again this year? I hear we have a prodigy trying out for that position this year as well." 

"If the prodigy is you I think I'm fine," I say while chewing on the bland school pizza. 

Tyler rolls his eyes, "Ha ha funny. No. It's some freshman." 

"He'll be put on the JV team. I'll be fine," I say.

"Whatever. Don't get cocky though. I heard he's really good." 

I roll my eyes and take another bite of pizza. 

James nudges my shoulder, and I turn towards him. He's holding out his apple juice, and eyeing my orange juice. I sigh and trade him. 

"If you don't like apple juice why do you get it every time we get lunch?" I ask him. 

"It always looks good in line, but then we get back to the table and I don't want it," He replies. 

I roll my eyes, and he ruffles my hair, which he knows I hate. I give him a dirty look and fix my hair. He just smiles, and I can feel my face starting to heat up a little. What the fuck is wrong with me? 

Lunch ends and soon school does as well. Last period is boring. It's the only class I don't have James in, and it's awful. Not only is it study hall, but we have a new study hall "teacher" who doesn't let us talk. Great. 

All sports tryouts are after school today, so I find James outside of the choir room, and we both walk down to the locker rooms together. 

"How's choir this year?" I ask him. 

"I mean, it's choir. It's the same every year," He replies.

I smile, "So good then?" 

He smiles back, "Great." 

We reach the locker room and James goes to his locker to get his duffel bag out and I go get mine. He changed into his football pants, a grey t-shirt, shoulder pads, and a practice jersey. He laces his cleats, and grabs his helmet as well. I change into a practice jersey for soccer, shorts, and cleats as well. 

"Good luck," James says as we start walking to opposite fields, "I hope you get to be goalie again." 

"Thanks. Good luck on quarterback!" I shout back. 

He smiles and waves as he puts his helmet on and runs to go warm up. I walk to the soccer field and see Tyler waiting for me. 

"Took you long enough," He says as he kicks the soccer ball over to me. 

"Sorry. I had to wait on James," I say as I kick it back. 

We kick the ball around for a good ten minutes before our coach comes out to start running drills. First is a shooting agility drill, then a receiving drill, then a passing under pressure drill, and so on and so fourth. Soon he calls for anyone wanting to try out for goalie. I put on my gloves, and run over to coach. Everyone lines up and the whole team must shoot a ball towards the net and you have to catch as many as you can.

 There were four people trying out. One freshman, two juniors, and me. One junior caught 7 out of 17. The other caught 10. The freshman was really good. He caught 16 of them. Now it's my turn. I jog up to the net and stand ready. I give my coach the thumbs up, and he blows his whistle. The first ball soars just to the right of me, and I catch it with no trouble. At the end I had caught 16 out of 17 as well. Just like the freshman. 

"Great job today guys!" My coach yells at us, "I'll have positions by the end of the week. Go home and shower. You all stink." 

I tiredly walk off the field, and see James waiting for me with his duffel bag in his hand, and Rosie standing next to him in her cheerleading outfit. James was basically dripping sweat, but so was I. 

"You looked really good out there," James says, "We ended just before you started your turn for goalie tryouts. You were amazing!"

I sighed, "Not good enough. I missed one. I caught as many as the freshman. I should have been better." 

"Are you kidding me?" Rosie asked, astonished, "You did great! The freshman you're referring to is Matthew. He's cocky. You're way better than he is." 

I smile, "Thanks Rosie. Let me go grab my things, and I'll be right out." 

I walk into the locker room, and the freshman, Matthew, was still in there. I ignore him, and grab all of my things from my locker. 

"You're not as good as everyone thinks you are," I hear him say. 

"And you're not the prodigy everyone thinks you are," I say shutting my locker and turning to him, "Your footwork is amateur at best. Your shooting skills are minimal. You can hardly run and keep the ball with you. The only thing you seem decent at is goalie. Before you get cocky think about who you're talking to." 

He starts to say something, but I'm already out the door before he finishes. 

"You're still staying the night at my house right?" James asks as we walk to my car. 

I nod. We get in my car and start driving to his house. I drop them off, and head back to my house to get some clothes, and take a quick shower. I take my backpack, and then shove some clothes for tomorrow in there, and put some new clothes for soccer practice in my duffel bag. 

"Hey mom, I'm leaving!" I yell.

"Okay. Have fun at James' house!" She yells back. 

I drive over to his house, and unlock the door with the key I was given a few years back. James, Rosie, and Mr. Robinson were in the kitchen talking about school. 

"Hey, Ryan!" Mr. Robinson says. 

"Hey Mr. R," I catch James's eye, and he gets up to go up to his room with me. 

"Take a shower before dinner, James!" His dad yells. 

"I will!" He yells back. 

I drop my things on the floor in front of James's bed, and throw myself down on the bed. He laughs and sits next to me. He takes of his sweaty shirt and tosses it into his hamper. 

I swallow hard, "Um.. how were tryouts?" I ask him. 

"Shitty. There's no way I'm going to be quarterback this year," He says sadly. 

"Why do you say that?" I ask avoiding looking at him. 

He sighs, "Everyone else was better. I'll be lucky if  I even get to be on the field this year." 

"Don't say that," I say, "You were running back last year weren't you? He'll probably give you that position back if you don't get quarterback." 

"Yeah maybe," He sighs, "I'm going to go shower." He stands up and leaves to go shower. 

I groan. He looks good. He looks really good. I have a problem. I think I'm starting to like him, but I can't. I would be dead. I would be so dead. I groan again and put his pillow over my head. I have a real problem. This should NOT be happening to me. If I just ignore this feeling, maybe it'll go away...