A Bleacher Boy's Perspective (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 2

The practice drags on just as it usually does. The guys go through all the runs and plays, ends with two laps around the track and a clap on Mr. Perfect's back. Ugh, it makes me sick. The guy is good I'll give him that, but does Dad really have to talk about him like he's some kind of god? I swear sometimes I'm not even his son, just some stupid charity case.

"That was beautiful lads!" my father shouts out at the boys. "That is exactly how I want our first game of the season to go, do you hear me?"

All the boys shout and whistle as they hand each other high fives. Pft. Big deal. "Alright, everyone hit the showers and I'll see you here after school got it?"

"Yes sir!" they all answer, as they run off towards the men's locker room.

I sigh, sneaking another sip of my coffee. For a bunch of dicks, if there's one thing that Dad says about them that is true, it's that they're all like family. They don't treat people at school all that great, but they're always there for each other. And my dad is like the father of the family. It's kind of sweet actually, but I would never admit that.

I glance down at my short-lensed camera. Since I'm the captain I guess of the yearbook club it's my responsibility to take pictures of the football team this year. Which would be great for anyone in the club-only I've been doing it since last year and it's a miracle I managed to get through it. The football coach's son can't play football so he settles for taking photos. As you can probably imagine I was the focus of all ridicule. That is if you exclude the few openly gays. Which is just another reason I feel the need to hide anything that makes me--well me.

But honestly coming out of the closet is probably the least of my worries. Now that all of Dad's players are in the locker room probably gossiping about their latest lay, it means Dad is free to come talk to me. And by that I mean another rant and proposal about joining football. Just the usual you know?

"What did you think of that last play, son?" Speak of the devil.

I glance at the now empty field, trying to remember absolutely anything about Dad's practice. "Um." I started in my poor attempt to stall. "Seems like a winner to me. You'll definitely fool the opposing defense with that one." I say silently praying that what I said is broad enough that my dad might just go with it.

"Hmm." he hums, rubbing his chin in deep thought. He does this for so long I've begun to think that he isn't even thinking about my answer anymore but on how stupid I am. But just before I get the chance to say anything Dad gives me another one of his great claps on the back, directly on my bruise. "There's hope for you yet!" He beams at me, before running down the bleachers.

I can't even lie-that hurt-a lot. And no I'm not talking about the bruise, but that hurts a lot too.

Gently reaching down I slowly lift my backpack, wincing as my shoulder stretches.

"Can't even lift his own backpack." Someone snickers from below. I look down to see Nathan Dodger another one of dad's personal favorites. "Need some help princess?" he says mockingly, laughing pathetically alongside his friends. They think they're so damn hilarious.

"I'm not some damsel in distress." I roll my eyes, and grabbing my coffee. "I can take care of myself."

"Are you sure?" he asks gesturing towards my bag. "Because if my eyes didn't betray me I would say you broke a sweat trying to lift that bag of yours."

Sighing, I bump shoulders with him crossing onto the field. "Can't we just reschedule or something?" I jest. "I've got more important things to do today than put up with your pathetic and overused jokes."

Nathan's face began to swell to an over plump piece of fruit. If there is one thing you don't do to Nathan it's tamper with his ego.

"You little-" He jumps towards me, only to be held back by his other two teammates-Nick and Dell.