CH. 1
The field was hot and dry today as I watched the team take their positions at first down. I stood off field next to the bench where I could see the players the best. I scanned for any flaws in their form and stances. When the ball was hiked I watched the QB make the hand-off to the running back perfectly, no fumbles this time. Our linemen held their ground and the defense didn't see the running back get through: a job well done for first offense, but a pretty shitty job for the defense.
I looked down at my note pad and scribbled some pointers then looked out over the field where the running back was performing a short victory dance. I smiled to myself. I remembered this play perfectly from my junior year. Only then, I was the running back and even though we lost the regionals that year, this play let us score the last touchdown of the season in style.
But that was then. Now, I stood on the sidelines and corrected my alma mater's mistakes as their assistant coach. The head coach, Logan Dane, Coach Logan in my day, stood about twenty yards ahead of me. He was yelling corrections at the team which is why I didn't even bother. He was an amazing coach, he led us to State championships my senior year. I was benched that game, but man what a game. Coach Logan was always a very understanding coach. I had been benched that game due to some "transgressions" during school hours. Which was of course complete bullshit.
The only transgression I was guilty of was giving my principal the finger when he attempted to shut down my school's Day of Silence rally. It wasn't much of a rally, considering we were all wearing duct tape over our mouths and handing out gay and straight symbol shaped cookies.
That didn't matter though. Not in this town. Practice was over now and the team was in final huddles. Coach Logan sauntered over to me absolutely beaming.
"Briar, did you see that last play? Did you see it?" I smiled at his rough voice. It reminded me of my dad's but it was somehow smoother and seemed to warm my insides in a way I knew only too well.
"Yeah, I saw it," I replied. "Just like Rosenberg all over again."
"Whooo. Hell yeah, that was a good night and you were amazing! Watching your ass take off down midfield, completely untouchable." He continued to chuckle and lifted his hat and slapped it against his boots, knocking off some of the grass from the field. I couldn't help but get a little red around the ears when he mentioned watching my ass. He turned then to look back at the team.
"They're in good form this year. We might go all the way. We may even take out Houston High on our way." That's where I am from by the way, Houston, Texas. At least that is what any map would show you. I'm actually from a small town just south of Houston called Cinco. I know, dumb name but whatever. Everyone around here calls this place Houston, even though it's as far from cultural civilization as you can get.
"Well, I better go take the team up to the showers." Logan said. "Can you grab the leftover equipment?" I nodded and said, "Yeah, Coach." He smiled again, this time wide and his white teeth gleamed against his sun weathered face. "Briar, you're my assistant coach now. Call me Logan." He put his large, rough hand on my shoulder and then turned to leave.
I watched him go. Coach Logan, was maybe early thirties. I remembered hearing about him playing for our team when I was still in elementary school. By the time I reached high school, he had graduated from college and was filling the same position I currently was. Even though his glory days were over, Logan always worked out with the team and from what glimpses I had caught of him in the locker room, he resembled an NFL quarterback: large muscular arms, ripped abs, and a taut ass.
I had never had the pleasure of seeing the kind of manhood a man like that wielded. But I could definitely imagine it. I was brought out of my daydream by the sight of Chad Barkley, our water boy, running up to me from across the field. I silently cursed myself for standing around instead of looking busy like I should have been. Chad was president of our schools GSA and he has had a huge crush on me since I was a freshmen and he a middle school student.
Something about a gay sports star in our town really got to people. Chad was the worst. He was cute enough I supposed, just not my type. My eyes glanced toward Logan's form one last time as he finished the walk up the school grounds and out of my sight.
"Briar," I heard Chad breathe loudly.
"What's up Chad?" I asked without looking at him. I bent over and began picking up some helmets and an extra set of pads left by the players.
"Well, I've been meaning to talk to you this past week. Just never seemed like the right time."
"Oh really?" I asked, feigning innocence. I had been on the lookout for Chad the past few weeks because Fall formal was just around the corner and I knew seniors would be starting to pair off in preparation. Our school had lifted their same sex couple ban in my senior year and I had gone with my boyfriend at the time. Now, I was single and even though I was out of high school and now entering my junior year of college, seniors at Cinco High were allowed to bring older "guests" if they had signed permission from their parents.
So I knew what had been on Chad's mind for the past few weeks but I simply wasn't interested.
"What did you want to talk about?" I dared ask.
"Well, as you know, Fall formal is coming up," Here it comes, I thought. "And I was wondering if maybe you would do me the honor of being my date." I frowned. Curse him for asking so respectably. It would certainly make me an ass to turn him down after that. I sighed.
"Look Chad, I-"
"You don't have to kiss me or even be interested in me in that way," he stressed the word rather uncomfortably, "it's just, there aren't many options for people like... well for people like us, ya' know? And I thought, seeing as we both represent the team this year, maybe we could go together to inspire some patriotism." He gulped as he finished the last word. I turned and studied him.
He had very light blonde hair and ocean blue eyes. Not my thing but it was obvious to anyone he was a looker. He had his hands tightly clasped behind him but I could tell he was shaking. I wondered if it had really been my evasiveness that had taken him this long or if he had just failed to muster the courage till now. I sighed again and looked away from his puppy dog blue eyes.
"Well, when you put it that way. Shoot, all right Chad I'll go with you." I scarcely had time to look up at him before his face lit up like Christmas had suddenly come early.
"You will? Really you will Briar? Ah man, that would be... well that would be awesome!" I rolled my eyes but smiled in spite of myself. "Look," he said "I have a planning committee in ten minutes but I will call you tonight and give you more details on plans and such." He hugged me, awkwardly, and then took off running toward the school. I shook my head and then started walking up myself.
* * *
When I finally got to the locker room, almost everyone else had already cleared out. There was one or two stragglers getting dressed but the showers were free. I don't like showering with the team. Never did. As welcome as the team always made me feel about my preferences, I'm just too shy a person to put myself in that situation. I opened my locker and took off my clothes, grabbed my towel and then continued into the showers. The other problem with showering together was just that- we showered together. The showers at my school were set much like the community showers you would find at a pool, all rowed side by side with no dividers and no screens.
Just a pack of men all wet and soaped up together. Normally this would be a very exciting idea for me, but the reality was just so... demeaning. I turned the shower on and began soaping up. No one was in the locker room now so I took the time to admire myself in the floor to ceiling mirrors at the back of the shower room. Originally the mirrors were there so the coaches could keep an eye on the team for any "funny business." Now, they just served as vanity mirrors.
Leisurely, I looked myself over. My hair was brown and short, though I had enough to work with when I went out to the clubs in Houston. My face was soft and boyish. I've been told before that my eyes are "intense," whatever that means. I had full nice lips, I supposed, and clear, slightly bronzed skin. My face was altogether average. Though I got way more looks from girls and guys then I had ever expected. Especially at the beach. I looked down at my body. If there was anything I had to be proud of, I could be proud of that.
I was a running back after all. My legs were ripped and strong and so were my arms. My body wasn't very muscular overall but what it lacked in mass it made up for in speed and agility. Sometimes, when I went out for my morning run, I imagined myself running with a herd of animals. Some days wolves and other days deer. My chest was naturally broad, which always made it look bigger than it was. Beneath my chest, I sported a six pack which came from hard work and good eating. I turned then to look at my ass.
My running back days consisted of many wall sits, sprints, and squats which had sculpted me a set of ass cheeks like none other. When I pinched them together, the sinews of muscle rippled beneath my skin perfectly.
