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----- A Drink with a Stranger By: Sean Roberts -----
-- Chapter 7 --
There was no way, after the article, that Lane was going to have dinner with Ellis. Unfortunately, he never got the chance to cancel. His second glass of scotch tumbled into many more, until Lane fell asleep, waking up at the end of the day. Lane drank some water and went over to the pitch to watch the Friday night match. This way, he could find Ellis at the end to yell at him about publishing things behind Lane's back.
Lane's plan, from the first minute of the match, changed from wanting to beat Ellis to a pulp to wanting to—out of sheer human decency—put Ellis on a stretcher. Deer Creek was playing St. Thomas Prep, and if either team had been violent before Ellis transferred to Deer Creek, they were now murderous. Keith was the one exception—sort of. Lane noticed that he never knocked around Ellis or Taylor. Ellis, however, did not just have to deal with the other team. The other members of the Deer Creek team tripped him up, elbowed him and kicked him just as much as the team from St. Thomas Prep. The referee, as always, could only be in one place at once.
Lane did not have to go far to find Victoria.
"Hey, Victoria," he said. He stood in front of the person sitting beside her so he could talk to her.
"Not again ... what do you want?"
"I need to talk to you. Over there, come on," Lane said. She looked at him angrily, but she followed him out of the stands, away from the noise of the crowd.
"Look, I was out of line, okay? I'm really sorry about what I said earlier."
"Right," she said. "Is that all?"
"Umm, well, yeah," Lane said.
"You look like shit, you know."
"I feel like shit."
"Good." Lane smiled, which made her do the same. "There's a free seat next to me. You're welcome to join me if you like. We can watch Ellis get murdered together." Victoria rolled her eyes. They did not talk to each other for the rest of the match, but she sat there beside Lane, quietly, watching and cringing with him.
By the end of it, Ellis was struggling to move—but he miraculously scored Deer Creek's only goal of the game within the last ten seconds of the match. As angry as Lane was with him, he was just as impressed; it was a nice move.
Lane's parents had not made it to that match, so he waited for Taylor after the game to drive him home. Victoria was with him, waiting for Finn. Taylor came out with Finn and Ellis, and walked up to Lane. None of them looked too happy; Ellis was having trouble walking.
"Guys," Finn said. "Can you give Lane and me a few minutes?" Lane had been hoping to get a chance to talk to Ellis, not be alone with Finn. They all turned to walk away.
"Finn, this really isn't a good time," Lane said.
"Lane," Finn said, pretending he had not heard. "Whatever happened between us, whatever I did ... it isn't Victoria's fault, alright? It's between you and me. I know you two aren't exactly buddies either, but you can't talk to her that way."
"You seriously came here to stand up for your girlfriend?" Lane looked around and saw Victoria. She had gone far enough away that she could not hear them, but she was watching them. Lane waved her over. "Finn here thinks you can't take care of yourself," Lane said to her. "And Finn? Please keep your opinions to yourself. Or share them with her, because I'm not interested. I don't know why you can't understand that I want absolutely nothing to do with you. I don't want to see you or talk to you. Ever." Finn's brow furrowed, and he suddenly gave Lane a right hook, just below the eye. Lane grabbed his face as his head hit the wall behind him.
"Finn!" Victoria yelled.
"Fuck," Lane heard Finn say. He felt arms help him sit down on the bench. "Are you okay?" Lane moved his hand away from his face and looked at it. There was blood, but not a lot. "Dude, I'm so sorry. I just—just—" Victoria pushed Finn gently out of the way. She leaned in and gently pulled Lane's hand away from his face.
"It's bruising, but it's not too bad. Finn, go get him a soda from the machine."
"Okay," Finn said, sounding relieved that he could do something to make this better. "What kind?"
"It doesn't matter. It's for his face you idiot!" Lane looked up at angrily at Finn, but when their eyes met, they both burst out laughing. "Go!" she said.
Finn returned with a cold bottle, which Lane pressed gently against his face. He flinched at the cold, and at the bruise. He saw Taylor and Ellis come back into the school.
"We were wondering what was taking you so long," Taylor said. "Lane? What happened?" Lane looked at Finn, who was looking at the floor.
"Finn hit me in the face," Lane said with a burst of pleasure. This was his opportunity to show Taylor that the jocks were not cool; they were bullies; they were not his friends. As Taylor heard the words, his face twisted in disbelief, his eyes looking at Finn as if he had never seen him before, his hero disappearing before his eyes. The same way Finn had disappeared from Lane's life, when Lane saw that he too was weak; that he too was human. He did not want that to happen to his brother.
"By accident!" Lane said.
"But how—"
"Never mind how, Taylor." Lane looked over at Ellis, and thought it might be a good idea to lob the full bottle of soda at him. "Come on, let's just get home."
--
Lane tried on a few shirts, looking for one that would fit as well as Ellis' clothes fit him. There was nothing Lane really liked, and he scolded himself for even trying. He was going tonight to give Ellis the business, not to go on a date. He settled for a black button down shirt with blue jeans and pulled up to Ellis' driveway precisely at 7:00. He sent Ellis a text message saying he was outside. Lane only waited a minute before the front door opened. Lane was wearing grey skinny jeans and a purposely wrinkled, short sleeved button down, not tucked. He walked slowly to Lane's car, limping slightly, the after effect of the game the day before.
"I didn't think you were still going to come," Ellis said.
"Neither did I."
"Listen, about the paper yesterday—"
"No, Ellis. Not right now. Not until we get a drink."
"Fair enough."
Lane was about to order the biggest glass of scotch they would be willing to serve, but Ellis asked the waitress to give them a few minutes.
"What the hell Ellis?"
"I need to tell you something Lane," Ellis said. "I never know how to do this, but I figure it's better if I do it before we order anything. That way you won't have to stay." Lane sat back in his chair and gestured for Ellis to keep talking. "Well first of all, I'd appreciate it if this could stay between us, although I don't really know if you consider me a friend or not, so I'm taking a bit of a chance here ... tonight was supposed to be a date. I never meant to ask you to pay for dinner, or to drive me. When you said you wanted to thank me, I took the opportunity. I'm gay. I don't know if you are or not, but—"
"Sorry to interrupt," Lane said. "But I am too. And I promise not to tell anybody. I'm not out either. I'm glad you got that cleared up, I wasn't sure if this was supposed to be a date. But it can't be a date, Ellis. I don't know that we can be friends." Ellis picked up his empty wine glass and turned it around in his fingers.
"Wow," he said. "But see? I was right. Better that we did this before we ordered anything. I'll just grab a cab home. Have a great evening. And I'm sorry again." Ellis stood up to leave. There was no malice in his voice; he was not angry with Lane. He was polite to the last—even apologizing for bringing Lane out. Lane watched him with disbelief.
"What? Why are you leaving?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"Ellis, that isn't what I meant. Look, it's complicated, okay?"
"No it isn't," Ellis said. "It's very simple. You don't like me, even as a friend. You never gave me the impression otherwise. I chose to ignore that and ask you out anyway."
"But that isn't true at all! It isn't that I don't like you. It's ... I don't know. Could you please just sit down?"
"Lane, it's alright," Ellis said. "Have a good night, okay?" Lane nodded. He had to let him go, and as he thought about it, he realized it was for the best. Lane could not date a jock; he could not be friends with the jocks or with Ellis who had just gone behind his back and published that article in the Hunter.
--
Lane arrived home to find Finn sitting on the couch with a glass of iced tea in his hands, flipping through channels. Taylor was out with Jessica, and only Lane's parents were home. Finn stood up as soon as he saw Lane.
"Your parents let me in," he said quickly. "They told me you were out but I said I'd wait. I'm sorry for coming here without telling you. I just want to talk to you. Just for a few minutes." Lane found he did not have the energy to argue.
"Fine. Come upstairs." Finn looked around Lane's bedroom the same way Lane had looked around his; taking in the changes but feeling the familiarity of one of the private spaces in which they had fallen in love. "What is it?" Lane said, sitting on his bed.
"Listen, what I did yesterday was unforgiveable, but I did it because I don't know what else to do. That's a shitty excuse, but Lane, I can't get anywhere with you. And when you said you didn't want anything to do with me, I just snapped." Lane buried his head in his hands.
"So what do you want from me?"
"I don't know. But I miss you." Finn sat next to Lane on the bed and put his hand on Lane's leg, above his knee. He took a deep breath. He moved his fingers higher, just slightly, letting them rub along Lane's jeans. Lane took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He felt Finn's lips on his. The touch made him tremble.
"Finn ... you're with someone else," Lane said. He could not bring himself to say her name right at that moment. "We can't—"
"I know we can't. I just needed to. Just once. I need to know that you don't hate me."
"Fuck. Of course I don't hate you. I never hated you. Not really, anyway."
"Then can we call a truce?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"You know, I had a lot of explaining to do to Victoria. I mean, nobody at school knows we were friends. Or are friends. Or whatever."
"What did you tell her?"
"That our parents are friends, but that you and I don't really get along. It was all I could think of."
"Well, don't worry, I'll back you up." Lane heard the vibration of a phone. Finn took it out of his pocket.
"It's Ellis. He wants to kick the ball around. At this hour? He says he's waiting for me at school."
"Don't go," Lane said. "Let me go instead. I need to talk to him about that stupid article in the paper, and he's been avoiding me ever since he went behind my back to publish it."
"Sure," Finn said. "Just, umm, go easy on him, okay? He's had it a bit rough lately."
"Yeah, I saw the match."
"No, that's not what I mean. Although I'm sure that didn't help."
"What do you mean?" Finn leaned forward and kissed the bruise under Lane's eye.
"I'm really sorry about that," Finn said.
"It's okay," Lane said, smiling. "I probably had it coming. Now, what did you mean about Ellis?"
"I shouldn't say anything. If you really want to know, ask him, okay? I feel bad enough socking you on him unexpectedly like this."
"Okay, okay. I'll go easy on him. I promise."