brooks & hale - Chapter 16: Chapter 16

"WHAT WAS ALL THAT about?" Calla looked puzzled as she looked in Hale's direction. "It was so strange. He had a free run and looked like he was actually going to make a shot, but then he just stopped. Out of nowhere."
"That's what happens when you allow delinquents to play sports," Bellamy said haughtily. "They just mess everything up."
Brooks stared at her. "What?"
"I have to leave you now. The cold does horrendous things to my hair," Bellamy said solemnly, touching the golden blonde tresses. She apparently didn't notice Calla twirling a finger by her ear, mouthing she's lost it. "But I'll see you at the weekend, okay? Come round for dinner on Saturday. My mum will be so happy she'll cook a feast."
She blew him a kiss and made a beeline for the bathroom, most likely to fix whatever horrendous damage the cold had apparently done to her hair. "For the record, Brooks, you could do a million times better," Calla informed him, her attention fixing on something behind him. "Hey, isn't that your brother's jackass friend? The one who always gives you a hard time?"
Brooks followed her gaze and groaned, quickly yanking the hood of his coat over his head as if it could grant him miraculous camouflage from his enemies. He peered out from beneath the hood to confirm the terrible truth and sure enough, there was Reed, in all his demon spawn glory. His mop of shiny blonde hair masked the devil horns that would undoubtedly be protruding from the crown of his head.
"Jesus fuck," Brooks muttered, knowing full well his mother would ship him off to Christian camp for all of eternity if she ever heard him say something so blasphemous. "What is he doing here? He's supposed to be on the swim team! Adam said so himself!"
Calla raised an eyebrow at him. "Maybe he's on the swim and football team?"
"Stop being logical, Calla. It really isn't helpful in these trying times."
Brooks' pitiful attempt at hiding in his coat thankfully went unnoticed, as Reed was engrossed in the game and didn't seem to have spotted him. Just to be safe, Brooks redirected his attention in a safer (and much more appealing) direction, towards Hale. Mr Lewisham had benched him and he didn't look pleased in the slightest about it, scowling at any of the Woodway team who dared look at him.
What had that been about? Calla seemed to have forgotten about it already, chattering about some new dress she wanted to buy, but Brooks' curiosity was piqued. Hale had been looking at him, and it was certain he'd seen Bellamy kiss Brooks. Was that the reason for his expression, the rare glimpse at all his cocky veneer stripped away? Brooks felt the fragile flame of hope in his chest, and tried in vain to extinguish it.
That wasn't going to happen. Hale was straight. Maybe he'd thought - hoped - there was a possibility at one point, after the kiss, but Hale had confirmed the truth when he hadn't denied he was straight. It was as much a rejection as anything, especially after Brooks came out as gay to him, and Brooks had to accept that even if it hurt.
The match was concluded, as unsurprising as it was dismal, at three-to-ten in Woodway's favour. Two of those point had been thanks to Hale, and Lexus had suffered considerably more after he'd been pulled. Victory for Woodway wasn't as sweet as it may have usually been, seeing as it was taken for granted that they would win, and they seemed almost bored as they went through the obligatory routine of handshakes and "good game" that neither side believed.
Hassan rejoined them, just to tell Calla, "I told you we'd lose." That led to playful bickering that wasn't uncommon between them, and Brooks was content with just watching them with the fond smile of a proud mother when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and came face-to-face with a cute Asian boy, his mud spattered red and black uniform identifying him as a Woodway player.
"Brooks," he said, with the warmth of greeting an old friend. "I didn't expect to see you here. Long time no see, huh?"
He did look a little familiar, now that Brooks thought about it, but he had that guilty moment when he couldn't place a name to the face. Even as he racked his head, he didn't know anyone apart from Reed and Adam who went to Woodway, apart from hazy memories of names and faces from parties that had all blurred together to become indistinguishable.
"I'm really sorry but, uh, I've completely blanked," Brooks confessed with an apologetic tone, hoping he didn't look as embarrassed as he felt. He hated when people did this, and now he'd gone and done it himself. "This is really shitty of me but...who are you?"
"That's okay, it's been a while." The guy smiled and both his cheeks dimpled. "Luke Zhang? We met at summer camp way, way back?"
Realisation hit him within a split second of recognition, and his eyes widened with an exclamation of, "Oh. Of course," he said hastily, suddenly embarrassed for a whole new reason. "Of course I remember you. Luke from summer camp."
How could he forget? It was the summer his parents had forced him out of the house so he could "improve his socialising and communication with children his age", meaning he was too socially awkward for them, and Luke Zhang had been one of the kids he'd befriended on the first day. Eleven had been a strange age for Brooks, because that was when he'd first begun questioning his sexuality and his conflicted feelings towards boys.
Luke Zhang had been his first kiss, kneeling in the dirt in the woods behind the lake, tentative and awkward and a little like when he stole a sip of his mother's champagne; forbidden but still bubbly and sweet on his lips. They'd kissed a few more times that summer, experimenting more than anything while masked by the campfire glow, but then September came and they went off to their respective high schools to never speak again.
Brooks had never forgotten about Luke, his first kiss, but he hadn't expected to see him again. And at Woodway, no less. In his defence, Luke had undergone a drastic change from his chubby eleven year old self with braces. The baby fat had melted away to reveal more defined and angular features, and the braces had rewarded him with straight white teeth. It helped that football had kept him in shape and toned. Not that Brooks was looking.
"Wow," Brooks said, laughing in disbelief. "It's really has been a while, Luke. What, four years?"
"Five," Luke corrected, with that same dimpled smile. Nothing had changed there. "Nearly six, actually. I'm kind of surprised you did remember me."
"Yeah, well..." Brooks rubbed the back of his neck with a self-conscious smile. "I guess that was a summer that was difficult to forget."
Luke's cheeks turned pink. "That's one way to put it. About that summer, have you...I mean, did you ever..." he trailed off with a vague gesture, but Brooks filled in the blanks to the silent implication and was grateful he didn't voice it aloud.
"Why don't we talk inside?" Brooks suggested, aware of Calla and Hassan eavesdropping on the conversation. Calla was making a terrible attempt at being subtle about it, pretending to text on her phone which was upside down, while Hassan outright abandoned any subtlety as he looked between them. "It's cold out here, and you look like you might want to change out of those."
Luke glanced down at his muddy uniform. "Good idea," he agreed, looking a little relieved as he began walking back towards the changing rooms. Brooks bid his friends farewell, who looked far too curious for their own good, before following after him.
"What're you doing here, anyway?" Luke asked, once they were in the warmth of the heated building. He'd led them all the way down the corridor to the far end of the changing rooms, so they were out of sight and earshot of any players. "I'm almost positive you don't attend Woodway. I definitely would have seen you around."
"Not Woodway," Brooks said, leaning back against the wall to face Luke. "Lexus. My brother goes here, though."
"Wait. Montgomery...you're Adam Montgomery's brother?"
"You know him?" Brooks asked, surprised.
"Not really. I guess I just didn't really expect you two to be related," Luke shrugged, and Brooks didn't bother asking him to expand on that. He didn't need a discussion to label all the ways he was different from his brother. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you weren't so keen on coming out when we were eleven, right?"
"Right," Brooks murmured. "Spot on."
Brooks hadn't wanted to be gay. It had been a nagging suspicion for a while, one that he'd ignored for a long time because even back then, he knew it'd just make him different from the other kids. The boys in his primary school class would shout "faggot" and "that's so gay" without really understanding what they were saying, but it simply laid the foundation for his parents to build their strictly homophobic beliefs on.
Needless to say, Brooks had still been in serious denial even after kissing another boy.
"Has anything changed now?" Luke asked. "Does anyone know?"
"Apart from you?" And Hale? "No, I am still as firmly rooted in the closet as I was then," Brooks sighed, slumping against the wall. Hale was an anomaly and an exception, and even that confession had been unwittingly dragged out of him due to extenuating circumstances. "What about you? Ever leave the closet?"
"Out and proud." Luke smiled, but the bitter tinge to it that suggested there was more to the story, and making that bold step had given him an unfair share of bumps and setbacks no heterosexual person would have to face. "I don't know, Brooks. I want to tell you to come out and be proud of who you are, which of course you should be, but it's easier said than done."
Brooks thought about Hale, his dumb yet funny quips and warm eyes and ability to light up any room he walked into. "Tell me about it."
A comfortable silence settled between them. Brooks was thankful that he had someone going through the same situation as him that he could talk to, even if Luke had already found the courage to be openly gay. Brooks admired and envied him that bravery, bravery he knew he wouldn't find until he was far, far away from home.
"Look at us, moping and sulking," Luke suddenly chuckled. "Life was far more fun when we were eleven and our biggest concern was who got the most s'mores at campfire. Remember the canoe incident?"
Brooks grinned. "Oh, when we snuck out to the lake in the middle of the night and had to be rescued from the water after you capsized the canoe?"
"Me?" Luke laughed in disbelief. "As if! You were the one rocking the canoe too much."
"That's a lie and you know it!"
Brooks was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to talk to Luke, as if five years hadn't passed and they'd remained friends the entire time. Reminiscing about the past was a nice escape from he present, and they even ended up exchanging numbers, because it'd be a shame to lose contact after they'd just met up again. Luke may have changed physically, but he was the same friendly and lighthearted guy Brooks remembered.
"I remember when..." Luke trailed off partway through the story he was telling, and his attention shifted to something behind Brooks with a puzzled expression. "Do you know that guy?"
Brooks followed his gaze over his shoulder and tried not to stare. Hale had changed out of his football kit, and looked fresh from a shower with wet hair dripping at the ends. He also looked pissed off, and was marching straight towards them; more specifically, towards Brooks. "Hale," Brooks said, when he reached them, "what are - "
Hale jabbed a finger against his shoulder. "We need to talk."
"Okay," Brooks replied, confused and a little nervous. He glanced apologetically at Luke. "Sorry, do you mind...?"
"Not a problem." Luke looked more amused than annoyed at the rude interruption, and flashed Brooks one last smile. "It was nice talking to you again, Brooks. See you around. Good game," he added, in Hale's direction, which might have been sarcastic from anyone else but entirely sincere from Luke.
"Whatever," Hale retorted, who seemed to take that personally. "Congrats on steamrolling us. What an achievement."
Brooks frowned at him once Luke had disappeared back around the corner. "What's wrong?" he asked, unable to determine the exact cause for Hale's irritation. "I know you lost, but you still played well. And it's just one game."
"Who said I give a shit about the game?"
"Fine," Brooks said, keeping his voice calm at Hale's sharp tone. Getting angry wouldn't improve the situation in the slightest. "What's your problem, then?"
"Aren't you supposed to be gay?" Hale demanded.
"Shh!" Brooks looked with wide eyes down the hallway, as if terrified the entire football team would pop up at the end to eavesdrop on the conversation. Knowing his luck, it would be Reed who found him out. "Keep your voice down. No one knows about that, remember?"
Hale was undeterred. "So you are?"
"Yes," Brooks said impatiently. "I'm pretty sure we've already been over this. When you locked me in the cupboard with you."
"That was a funny way of being gay, sucking face with Bellamy Moore," Hale said sarcastically, and it sounded as much like an accusation as an attack. "What, has she converted you or something?"
"What? No! She kissed me," Brooks said, crossing his arms across his chest. "And anyway, so what if I did? How is that any of your business?"
Hale ignored his question. "Is he your boyfriend, then? That Chinese kid?"
"No, he isn't my boyfriend," Brooks said shortly, and he was annoyed now, because Hale was interrogating him as if he'd done something wrong and refused to answer his own questions. "Not that I owe you an explanation as to what he is. Stop avoiding my question and answer it: why do you care?"
Something shifted in his eyes, a crack in the anger, but he didn't drop Brooks' gaze. "I don't."
"Really?" They were close now, closer than they ever would have allowed in public, but Brooks ignored the wild pounding of his heart in favour of staring Hale down. They were practically the same height; in fact, Brooks noted with some surprise, he was slightly taller than Hale. "You don't care? Because from where I'm standing, it sure looks like you care."
Brooks didn't know why he was pushing the matter so much, or why it meant so much that Hale give him an answer. That tiny voice at the back of his head was whispering dangerous thoughts and he refused to listen to it, to even acknowledge it, because Hale's warm breath against his cheek meant nothing and would never mean anything. Not to Hale, anyway.
"Don't tell me how I feel," Hale snapped, bracing both hands against the wall on either side of Brooks' face in a gesture meant to intimidate or stop him from bolting. The only thing it served to do was to turn Brooks' legs to jelly and ignite the flames in his stomach. "Don't tell that I care about you, because I don't - "
He abruptly broke off and Brooks felt the breath catch in his throat at the raw intensity in Hale's eyes. The pupils were blown wide open and swallowed up the deep chocolate irises, and Brooks couldn't look away, even if had wanted to. They'd both leant closer and Brooks was backed flat against the wall, with Hale backing him into the corner he didn't want to escape from.
"You don't what?" Brooks whispered.
Hale muttered something in Spanish under his breath, a prayer or a promise, and then he kissed Brooks. The nerves that had been tingling with anticipation lit up beneath his skin, sending pleasure and heat across his skin. Time ceased to exist and the world faded away until it was just the two of them, Brooks and Hale, and their lips moving in sync.
But Hale wasn't drunk this time, and they weren't shrouded in the dark shadows of an alleyway outside the club, but in the middle of a public school building, and the kiss didn't last for anywhere near as long as Brooks would have wanted. Hale pulled away but didn't move far back, stopping a few inches away from his face as he stared at Brooks. They were both breathing heavily and Brooks realised, belatedly, his hands were curled in the front of Hale's hoodie.
Brooks took a deep breath. "Hale - "
Hale wheeled away from him and, without another word, strode down the hallway without a glance back at him. Brooks was too dazed and dumbstruck to do much more than stare at his retreating figure and try to calm the rapid pulse beating a too quick rhythm against his skin.