TRIGGER WARNING: use of homophobic slur

Mason Maloney

"Do you boys want me to make some dinner before the game?" my mother asked as she barged into my room where Pete, Ross, and I sat.

"Sure, Mom," I answered, not taking my eyes off of the TV.

Pete turned toward her, a ridiculously innocent smile on his face. It took everything in me not to smack him.

"That would be great, Mrs. Maloney. Thank you," Pete said politely before my mother walked out of the room.

This time I didn't hold back my smack. Pete's head snapped over to me with an offended look on his face.

"What the hell was that for?" he asked incredulously.

"You know what," I responded to which Ross nodded in agreement.

"Quit hitting on his mom, dude," Ross told him, leaning back onto the headboard.

"I wasn't," Pete muttered, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout.

Ross gave me a knowing look but it quickly turned into a grimace as his eyes found the injuries that were still visible on my face. He looked away down at his lap and let out a sad sigh.

"Stop it," I said to Ross, nudging him with my shoulder.

He continued to feel guilty no matter how many times I told him it wasn't his fault. He wouldn't let it go.

"I know, I know," he said. "I can't help it. If I had just picked you up..."

"Then it would have happened some other time," I told him. "It was inevitable, Ross."

"I still can't believe your brother didn't kill them," Pete added, turning to face us from the foot of the bed.

"That would only cause more problems," I said.

We dropped the subject after than and I was glad. I didn't know how many times I had to say I was done thinking about the situation before the people around me started to get it. I still couldn't have a normal conversation with my father without him trying to pry names out of me.

After my mother called us down for a brief dinner, we made our way to the school for the football game. The bleachers were already packed as usual, but I could see Bella sitting with some of her friends, her short legs stretched out across the bench to save seats for Ross, Pete, and me.

"Hey!" Bella yelled, waving her hands to get our attention when she saw us ascending the bleacher stairs.

I waved to let her know that we saw her before making our way to the seats, sliding by the crowd of people at the end of the aisle.

"You guys have to get here earlier next week!" Bella exclaimed as the three of us sat down.

"We had dinner before," I told her to which she sent me a pout.

"Did you guys go out without me?" she asked.

Pete leaned over from beside me to face her. "No, Mase's hot mama made us food."

I glared at him before shoving him forcefully into Ross's side.

"Cut it out with the mom jokes," Bella said, obviously annoyed.

"Oh, I am very much not joking," Pete replied, causing me to turn and face him with another glare.

Pete held his arms up in surrender and gave me an innocent smile while Ross shook his head at him in disbelief.

"I'll stop," Pete promised, almost seeming sincere.

I shook my head, looking out toward the field. "I don't believe that."

Conversation stopped once the game started since everyone was focused on what was going on. The Warriors won the coin toss and Nathan chose to receive the ball in the second half, like he always did.

The opening drive wasn't good for our defense considering they allowed the other team to score a touchdown. I could practically feel Nathan fuming from here. I looked down at him to see that he was standing in a tense position with his right knee bent and most of his weight on his left leg. His arms were crossed in front of him and I could only assume there was a look of anger on his face. He always stood this way when the game wasn't going the way he planned. It was his way of showing that he, as the captain, wasn't pleased.

After the other team kicked their extra point, Nathan practically sprinted out to the field, eager to even the score. His first pass connected with his receiver perfectly, earning the team a first down. The next pass, however, was incomplete.

Nathan prided himself in his passing performance with his high rate of completions. He rarely ever missed his target more than once or twice a game. So when his receiver let the ball fall to the ground on the second pass of the game, Nathan was obviously worked up.

Pass number three: incomplete.

***

I stood against the fence while waiting for Nathan to get off the field as he was the last one there. The Warriors had managed to pull out a win, yet Nathan still wasn't happy.

"Hey!" I shouted, getting his attention. Nathan shot me a look and motioned for me to go out onto the field.

"Let me throw to you," he said once I was out there.

I sent him a confused look. "Why?"

"I'm working on my throw," Nathan said as if stating the obvious before throwing a perfect spiral my way without warning.

The ball bounced off my hands and onto the ground. Nathan and I shared identical looks of annoyance.

"That was a perfect pass," he said, gesturing toward the ball.

"I wasn't ready," I answered, bending down to pick it up before lightly tossing it back. The ball bounced off the ground and went back up high enough for Nathan to catch it.

Once the ball was in his hands, Nathan sent it back my way with another perfect pass. This time I caught it.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, throwing the ball back harder than the last time.

"I need to work on my throw," he answered blandly, throwing the ball back again. "Back up more."

I obliged and caught the ball once he sent it to me.

"Your throw is already perfect," I reminded him with my eyebrows raised.

"It wasn't tonight," he said, his jaw set tightly.

I held onto the ball, tucking it under my arm and refusing to throw it back to him. Nathan scowled at me, clearly showing his annoyance.

"Everyone has their off days, Nathan," I told him sincerely. "And even when you have yours, it was still pretty perfect."

Nathan shook his head hastily. "It wasn't good enough."

"Why not?" I asked, almost yelling at him. Nathan was arrogant a lot of the time, but he was also his harshest critic.

He crossed his arms over his chest and his face softened. I knew I was getting to him, I could see the vulnerability on his face.

"There are only two high school quarterbacks in the country right now averaging over 300 passing yards a game," Nathan said, looking down at his cleats. "Me and Knight."

"Okay?" I was still confused as to why he was so upset. That sounded like a good thing to me.

"I only had 250 tonight," he explained, looking up at me. "I had twelve incomplete passes and 250 passing yards."

"So?" I asked incredulously. "The other guy had like twenty incomplete passes."

"But he's not me, Mason," Nathan nearly shouted, his voice wavering slightly. "He also only averages 250 yards a game."

It didn't surprise me that Nathan knew the stats of his opponents.

"I have to play Sam Knight in less than a month," Nathan continued, stepping closer to me. "I can't be having games like this, I need to be playing my best."

Nathan's hands were clenched so tightly into fists that his knuckles were turning white. His face was surprisingly not flushed with red, but his eyes were wide with worry.

"You need to give yourself a break," I told him seriously. "You're going to have off games, and so is Sam, it's not the end of the world."

It hurt to see Nathan looking so dejected. He worked harder than anyone I knew and yet he still felt as though he wasn't good enough.

"I don't have time to give myself a break," he said with a sad smile. "This is my last shot to get into a D1 school."

"And you will," I consoled him. "Stop beating yourself up over it, it won't help."

Nathan didn't say anything. Instead, he looked up at the sky and then over at the empty bleachers before nodding his head toward the exit.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go home."

"Thank God," I said with a smile. "It's fucking freezing out here."

Nathan laughed as the two of us walked side by side off of the field.

"I just have to go change," Nathan said as we neared the locker room. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Let me grab the keys from you," I said, following him into the locker room.

The locker room was musty and sweaty, it even felt hard to breathe in there. A few players were still there in the showers, but most had already left. Nathan quickly took off his jersey and pads before rummaging through his duffel bag to find the car keys.

Rick suddenly came around the corner with a white towel wrapped around his waist and stopped at the locker beside Nathan's. I quickly averted my eyes from him, not wanting to see more of Rick than I had to.

"Good game, bro," Rick said, opening up his locker.

Nathan just huffed in response, pulling the car keys from his bag.

Rick laughed. "Don't be like that Maloney, we'll beat that fag Knight when the time comes."

My heart seemed to stop at obscene word that left his lips. I back peddled before turning around and leaving the locker room, not even bothering to say a parting word to my brother.

***

To say work on Monday afternoon was awkward between Sam and I was an understatement. It seemed as though it was more awkward for me than it was for him. Sam seemed to always know how to work his way around a situation and I envied him for it.

He was being my favorite version of himself, lively and carefree as he cracked a few jokes with the customers he was serving. It made it hard for me to stay away. What made it awkward was that I had no idea what to say to him. There seemed to be nothing to say, so there was a silence between the two of us.

Much to my surprise, Christo walked into the shop with a beaming smile on his face and waltzed over to the counter just as Sam finished up with another customer.

"You know what I'm here for," Christo said to him with a knowing look before turning to me. "Hey little Maloney."

"Hey," I replied, leaning against the pastry cabinet.

"How's your face?" he asked, looking genuinely interested.

"Fine," I said blandly.

"Good, good," Christo said before looking back at Sam. "I need to order a cake, you know this, get me a cake form thing."

I chuckled lightly before walking into the kitchen to grab an order form and then bringing it back out to fill out.

"What are you getting?" I asked Christo, causing both him and Sam to look my way.

"A cake," he replied with a deadpanned look. I turned to Sam and we shared a look of confusion before both turning back to Christo.

"What size?" I asked him, figuring I would have to help him through the process of ordering.

"Large?" Christo said hesitantly with a shrug.

"That's not how cake sizes work, dumbass," Sam said with an eye roll.

"Well, I don't know!" Christo exclaimed. "Not all of us work at a bakery."

I looked to Sam with a pleading look, hoping he would explain this to Christo so I wouldn't have to.

"Get him a full sheet," Sam told me, causing me to mark it on the order form.

"Is that big?" Christo asked. "I need it big."

"Our full sheets feed at least sixty," I told him. "Depending on how you cut the pieces."

"Make it a marble cake," Sam continued, ignoring my conversation with Christo. I marked marble on the form. "Traditional vanilla frosting."

"It needs to be Halloween themed," Christo reminded him to which Sam nodded and I wrote a note on the sheet. "And say 'Happy Birthday Tony'."

"You're buying Tony's birthday cake?" I asked confusedly.

Christo nodded. "Big party at his house that Friday the same week as Halloween. You're invited."

Tony was one of those unlucky people who had a birthday on a holiday. I supposed that having a birthday on Halloween was better than having one on Christmas, but he still had to share that day with the rest of the world.

"Any specific design?" I asked.

"Nah, just make it look cool," he said, waving me off. "How much will it be?"

"Forty," I answered, finishing off the order form. "The cake will be ready by noon on that Friday."

"Cool," he answered. "I'm out of here. See you guys later."

And with that, Christo walked smoothly out of the bakery, leaving Sam and I alone for the first time since our shift started.

"Are you going to go to Tony's party?" Sam asked, turning around to look at me.

I thought about it for a moment before shrugging. "Don't know yet. I guess I'll see what my friends are doing."

"I don't know if I'll go," Sam said, surprising me. "I have to be somewhere early the next day."

I nodded, not knowing what to say. All I knew was that I had to try my hardest to keep my eyes off of Sam because the more I looked at him, the more I wanted to kiss him and I couldn't do that. No one wanted us together. Sam was messing around with other girls the same time as me. I had to keep reminding myself of those things, otherwise I would want to take him to the kitchen and attack him with my lips.

"Plus, it might not be such a good idea to have a party at Tony's," Sam added, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Why?" I asked absentmindedly.

"Because we're getting closer to the rivalry game," he said with a knowing look, playing with his dad's ring on his chain. "You know how it gets, the closer it is."

"Yeah," I said with a nod.

He was right. There were so many things that could go wrong with having the Warriors and the Knights under one roof less than a month before the Thanksgiving game.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you if anyone from my team gives you a hard time," Sam said teasingly, a smirk smacked on his face.

I rolled my eyes. "Thought you already took care of that."

"I did," he confirmed seriously. "I'm just messing with you."

"Funny," I said sarcastically.

"You used to think I was funny," he pointed out with a small grin.

"I was faking," I lied, holding back a smirk.

"Oh I see," Sam said. "You were just faking because you liked me."

I shook my head, a small laugh leaving my lips despite me trying to keep it down.

"You can tell yourself that," I answered sarcastically.

"It's okay because I liked you too," Sam said seriously. "Still do."

My face contorted into a glare at his words. I was trying hard to keep my feelings for him away and it seemed like he was doing everything he could to mess with that.

"Stop," I demanded seriously.

"What?" he asked, feigning innocence. "I'm just being honest."

"Well don't," I answered quickly, turning around and storming into the kitchen.

I leaned forward on the counter in the kitchen, closing my eyes tightly out of annoyance. I needed to stop letting Sam get to me in this way. I had practically convinced myself that my feelings for him were temporary and they would go away on their own, but when he said things like that to me they all came flooding back.

Sam Knight was no good for me, but he was all I wanted.

Sam Knight was what I couldn't have.

**

Thank you to @AbigailSuarez1 for the amazing covers!!!!

I have the covers attached, so please take a look :)

Please let me know what you think of the chapter!

What did you think about Mason and Nathan's chat? What about Sam and Mason?