Heart and Soul - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

"Seth not here?" Mel asked Cater as he sat down in front of her at lunch. Light concern formed a small crease between her eyebrows, as she bit down on a raw carrot stick.
Carter just shook his head.
"He better make it here soon," Joey spoke to Carter's right, with a mouth full of tuna sandwich. "Coach will freak if he's late for the game warm-up."
Jenna grimaced as a chewed up piece of bread flew out of Joey's mouth and onto her tray, dangerously close to her shiny red apple. "Swallow, before you talk."
Joey took another huge bite. "Sorry," he said as he chewed.
"Do you think we'll win tonight?" Jenna asked, focusing her attention on Carter as she pointedly ignored Joey.
"If Queens shows up, of course," Joey answered instead.
Seth did show up. Riskily close to being late, though.
Coach didn't say anything as he walked into the locker room and the whole team pretended not to notice as Seth threw his bags into his locker with too much belligerence.
Luckily, it was a home game. If Seth missed the trip to the game, regardless of how comprehensive Coach generally tried to be, he might see himself obligated to bench Seth.
"Bad day?" Carter asked quietly as they left the locker room in full gear for a pre-game practice.
Seth shot him a look out of the corner of his eye, which was all the answer Carter needed.
Seth held onto the energy from that same look throughout their pre-game routines. Irascible and forceful. Unfocused. No one dared say a word, though. Not even Coach.
Just before they went out to the field, to stand in front of the scrutiny of multiple eyes watching from the bleachers, Carter stood close to Seth.
"You good?" He asked in a low voice.
Seth looked down at him from their one-inch height difference, jaw tightly locked in a cement grip. Carter could practically hear his blood boiling. He knew none of that anger was directed at him, though. It never was.
"Just focus on the game," he muttered. "Blow off that steam on the field."
This time, Seth's lips did tilt a little bit upward at the corner, in a grim sort of smile.
They stepped onto the field. From the sides, Melanie and Jenna smiled at them in their white and green Miami Whitewater Hurricanes cheer uniform. Carter let his eyes scan the crowd in the stands, spotting Mike's six-feet-three figure almost immediately. Next to him, Carter recognized Bella, Roy O'Brien from his Calculus class, and his girlfriend Lauren.
As he approached the referee with the opposing team's captain though, Carter pushed the audience and everything else to a vacuum sealed box in the back of his mind. From now on, only the game mattered.
The visiting captain called tails and the ref flipped the coin in the air.
Tails. Carter's team started the game on defense.
That appeared to be good on one front. Seth did get to blow off the steam. Carter could hear the people in the stands engage in a collective wince as Seth crashed into the visiting team's quarterback, like a truck running over a walk-byer in the middle of a highway.
Seth got up almost immediately, and although Carter couldn't see his face through the helmet, he could read the tension release in his stance. The other guy wasn't so quick to get up. He moved slowly and carefully, holding onto his wrist as he stood like he had injured himself on the way down. While his teammates came to his aid, Coach called Seth.
Carter approached too. "Take it down a notch, okay, Queens? We don't need to go full force yet," he told him.
Seth nodded with a low, "Yes, sir."
But Carter knew Seth was, in fact, ready to go full force from start to finish. He didn't say anything against it either. After all, he had been the one to tell Seth to blow off the steam. And he was a linebacker.
The opposing team's quarterback got back to his place eventually, despite appearing to have hurt his wrist. Seth's stunt, it seemed, had set the tone for the whole game.
As soon as it was Scott Meyers's turn to snap the ball to Carter, it became clear that the other team hadn't enjoyed having their QB injured at the beginning of the game. And Carter paid the price. As did Joey, Chaz and the other receivers. Their opponents were playing hard on the defense. Before the half-time break, one of the largest linebackers from the visiting team tackled Joey before he could complete the pass, stepping on his head. Accidentally, he claimed.
Joey had some loud, emphatic words of skepticism about that claim to share in the locker room.
"How about you try and actually hold them, just for once? Just for fun?" Joey spat at Bobby Gonzalez, as he sat between two other offensive linemen.
Bobby got up with a scowl, towering menacingly over Joey. "You wanna try and go out there without me trying to hold them, see how that actually feels like, shrimp?"
"Cut it out," Carter said. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to.
"Are you okay?" Carter calmly asked Joey, who was icing his head.
"Yeah," Joey mumbled, sounding a little like a sulking kid. Carter thought he was probably entitled to sulk a little bit, at least. After having his head stepped on and all.
"If you start feeling woozy, let us know before you pass out on the field," Carter told him. "That's what the second-string players are for. Manning has been dying for some playing time."
Dean Manning, a pale sophomore skinnier than Joey, smiled from his corner of the locker room. And that seemed to be all it took to alleviate the mood.
Until they stepped back out there to receive the ball for the first down of the second-half.
Because the other team was going so hard on the defense, it was proving hard to gain the ten yards. They settled for a field goal more times than Carter liked. On the other hand, their opponents weren't quite as strong on the offensive. Especially with their quarterback mildly injured. So the scores were more or less evenly matched. Which was unacceptable.
Carter gathered the team around him after a particularly violent tackle.
"Wheeler, are you okay?" Carter asked.
"Yes, captain," Chaz replied, but his voice was a little strained and he was grasping his arm with one hand. He had just been knocked down by one of the opposing linebackers, tumbling and rolling on the ground like boneless rag doll. It had to have hurt.
"Okay," Carter said. "Then we'll run that same play, just as we did now."
Joey and Chaz both nodded grimly.
"Trying to see who'll turn into mashed potatoes first, between you, Wheeler and Ashley, Parrish?" Bobby Gonzalez goaded.
"No," Carter answered evenly. "But they are. So, Chaz, I need you to run to receive the pass like you did now and let them come after you." He shot him a half-apologetic look, but Chaz didn't voice a word of complaint. Carter looked at Joey next. "Keep an eye out for me and then run like hell. Got it?"
"Aye, aye, cap," Joey shot back, with a cheesy salute.
When they repeated the play on the second down, the other team's defense went for Carter and Chaz, just like they had been doing since Carter had started trying to run that play. However, as soon as Scott snapped the ball into Carter's hands, he sent it spinning toward Joey, without ever getting his eyes off Chaz as they both broke into a run. The linebackers crashed into them, tackling them both to the ground. Carter took a second to get up, but the roaring cheer from the crowd told him all he needed to know. Joey had reached the end zone.
"We're running that exact same play, but this time I want Gonzalez on Joey's defensive linemen," Carter told his team as they prepared for a new down.
Through the corner of his eye, he saw Bobby readily nodding at him.
"You're gonna be mush by the end," Joey said.
"Just get the ball in the end zone," Carter replied.
The team did as he had instructed. With Bobby trying to hold off Joey's linebackers, Carter got jumped a lot sooner and harder, but Joey had more time to run to the end zone, now that the opposing team knew their renewed play.
Luckily, Joey's legs could run as fast as his mouth. He got them one more touchdown before they lost possession of the ball. That advantage gave them a good enough margin to work with for the rest of the game. The other team managed to dim some of the difference, but they never caught up.
Carter's team won in the end.
"Congratulations!" Melanie cheered, stretching onto her tiptoes to lean on Carter's shoulder excitedly.
Carter winced. They had won, but not without a few ugly bruises to tell the story.
"Sorry," Mel mumbled, pouting at Carter's pained expression.
"It's fine," he assured her, sliding a friendly arm around her waist.
Jenna Torres twirled her black ponytail around her index finger as Seth walked over to stand at Carter's side. Just one quick look at him was enough for Carter to conclude all steam had, in fact, been blown.
"Are you coming to the party now?" Jenna asked.
"Whose house?" Joey asked promptly.
Jenna smiled shrewdly. "Chaz's," she said. "But maybe you should rest that head. It's not good for a normal person to have a two-hundred pound linebacker step on their skull – and you were never the sharpest tool in the shed to begin with."
"I'm fine," Joey belted. "We won! I need to celebrate. You two are coming, right?"
Carter exchanged a look with Seth. "We're going home. It was a brutal game, I just want to sleep."
"Need a ride?" Mel offered.
"What," Joey shrieked. Anyone who didn't know him might think his behavior after the trauma he had suffered warranted medical attention. But they all knew that was just his post-victory daze. And pre-victory daze as well, occasionally.
"You have to come, Melanie! We fucking won!" He hooted.
"I'll pass. Consider me in the celebrations with you, in spirit," she said.
Carter laughed as Jenna dragged Joey along with her to join Chaz's party-hyped group.
"Take it you two are driving together, then?" Mel asked again, pointing between Carter and Seth.
Seth simply nodded.
Mel smiled. "Okay then. See you guys on Monday. Great game!"
"Thanks," Carter shot back, before he and Seth took off to the locker rooms.
They changed in silence, not bothering to shower. They could do that at home, right before dozing off to bed. Seth didn't turn on the radio as they drove to the Santoros', letting the silence hang in the air. It was a good silence. The kind that didn't need to be filled. When they reached Carter's place, Seth killed the engine and left the car half propped on the curb.
"Wanna stay the night?" Carter asked, already moving for the door.
"Thanks," Seth simply replied.
When they entered the house, the lights were off in the living room, but the kitchen was all lit up and voices could be heard outside. Carter made a detour to the back yard before going up to his room. Bella, Luca and Frankie were outside, under the light of the street lamps and the Santoros's single outdoor lamp, a basketball bouncing in Luca's hands.
"There they are," Frankie announced cheerily, in a whisper-yell, as he noticed Carter and Seth. "The men of the hour."
"Did you see the game?" Carter asked. He hadn't noticed Frankie on the stands.
Frankie smiled. "No. But I heard great things about it."
"It was awesome," Luca praised. "That last half–Just awesome. And that defense thing, where you left the line and forced him to drop the ball—"
"I assumed he meant blitzing," Frankie chimed in.
Seth smiled noncommittally.
"Fucking awesome," Luca declared.
"Blitzing. Fancy name," Bella mused. "And here I thought all a linebacker did was knock people over."
Seth shrugged. "In fairness, that's basically what it is."
"You looked pretty good at that part too," Luca pointed out.
"Blitzing is actually kind of a key play for a linebacker. Not usually a middle linebacker, but it happens to be Queens's special thing," Frankie explained. He shot Seth a wink. "See, I did my homework."
"You could be on the team next year if you keep it up," Seth said seriously.
"Not with his shitty attendance," Bella muttered.
"You're just mad our school doesn't have a female basketball team," Frankie retorted, sticking his tongue out.
Bella smirked. "Who needs to play for a school team when I have you to amp up my ego?"
"Join us on a night-time game?" Luca challenged, dribbling his ball from hand to hand.
Carter winced. "I really need a shower and sleep," he said apologetically.
To his surprise, Seth seemed convinced. He met Carter's gaze. "I might actually stay if that's okay."
Carter shrugged. "Just be quiet when you go up."
Seth nodded, just as Frankie rushed to claim him as team partner.
Carter went up to his room with the muffled sounds of the dribbling basketball outside. He imagined everyone else was in their rooms. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he went into the bathroom, stripped off his clothes and got into the shower. He stayed there a little longer than he intended, the warm water working miracles on his strained muscles and bruised flesh.
By the time he laid down on his bed, he was so tired he fell asleep over the covers. That kind of immediate, blissful sleep that usually led to an invigorating dreamless night.
Except Carter did dream. Of warm amber-brown eyes, shinning under an empty field's spotlights. Like honey under the sun, but darker. He dreamed of an alluring honest smile and ready pink lips. Johnny's face smiling at him—only him—before his eyes dropped to Carter's lips. That sent a thrill of excitement creeping down his spine. He wanted Johnny to lean in and, when he did, he let him.
In his dream though, unlike the real version, Carter put his hand on Johnny's face and leaned in as well. He kissed back. And he enjoyed it.
He woke up with that sort of delayed dive into consciousness as he became aware of where he laid. He was on his bed, over the covers. He felt a little cold too. As though missing the warmth of a touch that hadn't even really been there.
The lights were all out inside the house and all he could hear was silence. No sound of a basketball or cheerful voices outside. Only a soft, even breathing.
Carter leaned over to see Seth lying down on the floor, asleep. He had stretched Carter's rolled down duvet beneath him and he was using his arms as head support.
Trying his best not to make a sound, Carter tiptoed to the linen closet in the hallway to get a blanket. Back in the room, he laid it down over his friend and slid under his own sheets to go back to sleep.
Yet sleep didn't really come for a while. Carter was usually the type of person to forget his dreams as soon as he woke up. He could tell he had dreamed but he never had a clear memory of what. This time though, the dream played in his head like something he had lived through.
In a way, he had. Parts of it. Johnny had kissed him, on the bleachers, in the empty football field. And Carter hadn't pulled away. But he hadn't kissed back either.
Had he?
Maybe for a second. Just before Johnny ended it.
But what if Johnny hadn't pulled away? Would Carter have willingly continued? And what then?
He rubbed his eyes vigorously, trying to get a grip of himself. He had done such a great, conscious effort to avoid thinking about this so far he had actually almost started to forget about it. Almost. Just like he had almost willingly fueled an unexpected kiss with another boy.
Almost.