During our Biology class, Jason asked if I wanted to get together with him that weekend. I wasn’t aware of any family plans, so I suggested we go for a run Saturday morning. He chuckled before he realized that I was serious.
Jason looked to be in good shape. He just saw no reason to work at it. Once he understood that I would be running in the morning, he suggested that I run alone, then meet him at Chastity Falls after lunch.
As it turned out, he didn’t have any particular plans. We hung out, chatted, and he showed me around the area. In addition to the falls and the swimming hole, there were several trails that cut through the woods, a number of secluded glades where local youth sometimes engaged in various activities—both licit and illicit—all set against the backdrop of Ball Mountain.
For someone like me, who had grown up in a rather densely populated area, it was a whole new world. But I thought that I might like it. Three years ago, I had discovered enjoyment of physical activity on a soccer pitch. Acres of sprawling woodland provided for far less organized forms of physical activity, but I was already looking forward to exploring.
I found myself getting more comfortable at school with each passing day. Being involved with the soccer team really helped, but I was also finding the social engagement in classes—highlighted by our lunch gatherings—was appealing to me. Life in East Grange was different from life in Darien, but the people were just as interesting in their own ways. I was making friends and already developing some social status. Ball Mountain had a decent soccer program. So when word started to get around that I might become a notable part of that program, people started to take notice of me in a good way.
I didn’t know if I was making a mistake, but unlike Brian, I continued to have lunch with Jason and his crew. It would have felt disloyal to abandon them as soon as I was accepted somewhere else. I liked that crew, even if they could sometimes go a little overboard.
The soccer team didn’t seem to mind that I stayed with the ‘gay’ table. I got a little teasing in the locker room, but I tried to be extra sensitive to anything that might be upsetting to the straight members of the team.
It probably didn’t hurt that no one considered me a threat, except on the soccer pitch. A couple of the older guys took to calling me Pee Wee and didn’t even mind sharing a shower head with me if none of the others were free.
I didn’t mind the Pee Wee thing. I mean, I knew I was small. And I had enough confidence from several years of dominating on the pitch that a mildly denigrating nickname, spoken with some affection, didn’t bother me at all.
Maybe it bothered Brian. Or maybe he just thought I deserved more respect. But somehow or other he found out that my middle name was Alan, after my father. And when he saw it spelled out somewhere as Ross Alan Donnelly, he noted the obvious and started calling me ‘Rad’. Has anyone claimed that Hooked On Phonics doesn’t pay dividends?
During the middle of my second week of school, with the lunch thug incident still a bit fresh in my mind, I found myself sitting down at the lunch table realizing that I couldn’t see Dante. I had no idea where he had gone after we finished another soccer game in Phys Ed class. I knew that Dante could take care of himself but started to fear the worst. If three or four guys caught him alone, and with no teachers around, it could get a bit rough for him.
I mentioned my concern to Jason. We waited a few minutes, then decided that we should try to find out what had happened to Dante. No sooner had we got up and started for the exit than he came strolling toward our table with tray in hand.
I think Jason was even more relieved than I was.
“What have you been up to, D-Man?” Jason teased. “Were you getting gang-banged in the shower by elves?”
“What are you talking about?” Dante looked a bit shocked. “I’m pretty sure they were just ordinary freshman!”
There were a few chuckles around the table. Becky and Linda looked a bit repulsed. But the expressions on Tracey’s and Jocinda’s faces were positively avid.
I wasn’t entirely sure that he was joking. Life around Dante was never dull.
The third week at Ball Mountain brought more revelations. The school had a formal GSA! I had assumed that the mafia around our lunch table constituted a sort of informal GSA. But it turned out that there was an official club at school. They were organizing for the year and I was busy trying to figure out how I could attend meetings during the soccer season.
I was actually pleased to share that news over dinner. Mom can sometimes go a bit overboard with the ‘supporting her gay son’ thing, even becoming a bit controlling at times, but I was feeling confident about my start at Ball Mountain and was excited about the news.
Predictably, Mom was excited, too. She may also have been on medication that day.
“Ross! That’s great news!” She turned to my father, “Alan, do you think that maybe we should get Ross an N . . . M . . . uh . . . ” she seemed to trail off.
The spelling key words out in front of the kids is so grade school! I had become wise to that parental game years ago. Although, I couldn’t think of any word that started with an ‘n’ and an ‘m’. Maybe in an African language? It was puzzling.
“Uh what, dear?” Dad was also confused. Yup, Mom was definitely taking something . . .
“For heaven’s sake, Dad! Mom thinks you should give Ross an enema!” Rachel was becoming impatient with the scintillating dinner conversation.
“Now, Rachel.” Mom said. “Don’t you think you might have given away the surprise?”
“I dunno, Mom. Dad is still trying to figure it out.” Disgusted, Rachel turned back to her phone.
Just to be clear, when I said that my family was very supportive when I came out, I wasn’t saying that my mother isn’t evil. I suspect the reason she had been so accepting is because it gave her more opportunities to abuse me. I was starting to think she needed more to do with her life than just take care of our family fulltime.
I played in my first JV soccer game on Thursday. Pax had explained that I wouldn’t be allowed to play in a game until I had been practicing for at least two weeks with the team—some requirement of the Vermont Headmasters Association—but he was determined to get me playing time at the first opportunity.
Mr. Gleason, the JV coach, subbed me into the game before the first period was over. I rotated through a few different positions as new players were subbed in. It was great to be playing competitive soccer again after almost ten months. It was fun. And we won!
By the middle of September, I had played in three games and Pax told me that he wanted me on the bench for the varsity games, too. I had joined the GSA and managed to attend one meeting briefly when Pax gave me permission to show up late for a practice.
We continued to play soccer in Phys Ed class. It was cool. I still got to run around, but Coach Wyman asked me to spend most of my time coaching some of the younger kids and helping him to officiate the ‘official’ class games.
I spent a lot of time with the freshman in that class. A few of them had played soccer in middle school, but they were all receptive to what I taught them. I think maybe they saw their game improve as they practiced the skills I showed them. I know I saw the improvement.
Nicky Crandall was one of the freshmen that I worked with in Phys Ed class. His older brother, Adam, was part of our unofficial GSA lunch table, which eventually led to a bit more than a casual friendship with Nicky. I guess my name must have come up once or twice in their house, Nicky found out that Adam and I were friends, and the result was some closer friendships than I had expected when I first began helping the younger guys in class.
After a while, it started to feel like Nicky and a few of his friends had become groupies. They were competing for my attention in class and started showing up to watch our soccer matches once I joined the varsity squad. If I did something on the pitch, you would hear their shrill screams over all the rest of the background noise. It was kind of embarrassing. But it also felt good to have them there cheering for me.
Nicky even started to casually find an open showerhead next to mine when we washed up after class. I wasn’t sure whether it was for some protection, or if his interest was a bit more personal. Not that I would have minded too much.
Nicky was a cute little guy with sandy blond hair, green eyes and a spray of freckles across his nose and cheeks. But it was the combination of upbeat personality and his attentiveness when I was talking to him that really appealed to me. We were developing some sort of connection.
Several times I thought about how I might ask Adam if Nicky was part of our family. But it was an awkward question to ask about his younger brother. I decided that I would find out soon enough if I let our friendship develop naturally and paid close attention to the signals Nicky was sending me.
I don’t know if it was a clue or not, or perhaps just confirmation that my reticence about approaching Adam was justified, but I was glad I’d been circumspect. In one of our Phys Ed soccer games, Nicky scored his first goal. Naturally he was pretty excited.
After we showered, Dante and I headed to lunch and Nicky followed close behind with his group of friends. We were barely seated at our table when Nicky came bounding over, bubbling with excitement, to see Adam.
“Gym class was amazing today, bro,” he announced with his customary enthusiasm. “I was really stroked!”
Adam turned on us immediately. “Jesus, Dante! What is wrong with you?! I told you that I didn’t want you trying to corrupt Nicky!”
Brian came over to our table during the uproar to find out what was happening. We were all pretty confused; especially Nicky. It took a rather lengthy explanation of Nicky’s goal and why he was ‘stroked’ before we could figure out that the word he had been looking for was ‘stoked’.
Dante was offended that Adam would think he might do something with his little brother after Adam’s warning. I was offended that Adam didn’t even consider the possibility that I might be the person ‘stroking’ Nicky . . . not that I would corrupt his little brother, of course. But I would have felt better if it didn’t feel like Adam had completely dismissed the possibility that I might be a threat to his brother’s innocence.
Eventually we all got over it. Brian even offered to help work with Nicky on his soccer skills, since he and Adam lived near each other. He suggested that the three of us might get together for some informal workouts. I thought it was pretty cool that Brian was willing to take Nicky under his wing, too. And I guess I did get another strong hint or two about Nicky’s team loyalties, but also a clear warning that I should proceed with caution, if at all.
By the time October and soccer season was nearing its end, I had a starting role on the team and no one seemed to hold it against me. Pax was pretty good about giving playing time to all of the mid-fielders, so no one felt like they were being shortchanged. A couple of the older guys might have been disappointed that their roles had been reduced a little. But like Pax had predicted, a winning team helped to ease personal disappointments. And we had a winning team. Our record was 9-4 with three games left to play. We were bound for the playoffs and we felt like the sky was the limit!
Ball Mountain usually had a strong soccer team. Those of us on the team were treated like royalty. I caught Max Packwood glaring at me once or twice. But his enmity was more than offset by the excitement of Nicky and his friends, as well as the support we received from the entire community.
During those first couple of months at school I had struck up a bit of a friendship with Aislinn in Biology class. Jason seemed rather puzzled by my interest, but she was a genuinely nice person and I found that I enjoyed her company. It probably didn’t improve Max’s attitude toward me that he often noticed Aislinn’s absence from his hip between fifth and sixth period. When he went looking for her and found us strolling slowly together toward his locker, chatting about something or other that we had been discussing in class, he could barely contain his annoyance.
He growled. I rather enjoyed his frustration, as long as there was school staff around. Aislinn appeared to be oblivious to his annoyance. Her personality may have been stronger than I had originally assumed. I figured that was a good thing, since he seemed the type who was going to abandon her as soon as he thought he had found something better. I suspect that his main concern, at least until he found that better alternative, was that she might not be around sometime when the pressure in his penis started to get too low.
I found myself making new friends even faster than I had made friends in Darien. Being on the soccer team was part of it. But I was becoming active in the Ball Mountain GSA, an organization that received a surprising level of support in the community—even among those who were missing some teeth! Eventually I texted Rafe and suggested that his formula might need revision.
It didn’t hurt my popularity at all that our table was really the social hub of the freshman-sophomore lunch period. People were always dropping by to chat with one or another of us, then finding something to chat about with others at our table.
I suspect that it also didn’t hurt my social status that Rachel and I rarely had any sort of contact with each other at school. She had made new friends. I don’t think they would have liked me much. It was better that the two of us existed in parallel universes.
By the time Thanksgiving arrived, I was enjoying life in East Grange even more. The Ball Mountain Black Bears were Vermont state soccer champions! We were the toast of the town in East Grange and the five other small communities that made up the Ball Mountain Union School District. I had far more demands on my time than room on my social calendar. I was eager for the arrival of the holiday season so I could spend it with my new friends. It was actually a disappointment when I found out that the family would be returning to Darien to celebrate the holiday.
Seeing Nana, my uncles and aunts and their families was still wonderful. I reconnected with old friends during the few days we were in town. It was nice. But by the time we piled back into the Tahoe and started north, I was strongly feeling the call of the wild. Barely three months had passed since that melodramatic first trip north, but Vermont had already become my home. Nana gave me a knowing smile as the family suburban assault vehicle started to roll away. Dad really needed to drive faster.
Two weeks later, I experienced another first in Vermont. The Crandall family had planned a day of skiing at the nearby Mount Killington Ski Resort. Nicky talked his parents into inviting me along. I made sure that Adam was okay with the idea. He was.
I had never been on skis before. But it looked exciting. And how hard could it actually be?
It was harder than I thought! We bought lift tickers and Adam and Nicky accompanied me as I went to rent equipment. Once I was outfitted to Nicky’s satisfaction, he unsubtly nudged aside Adam and his offer to help teach me to ski. Nicky suggested that Adam scout out an intermediate slope to make sure it was in good condition for when I was ready for that challenge. Adam looked mildly amused as he skied toward a nearby lift.
Nicky brought me to an area they called the beginners slope. I spent the better part of an hour humiliating myself there. It was embarrassing, but it was also a lot of fun. Nicky really enjoyed the opportunity to become my mentor. He was actually a pretty good teacher.
When Nicky thought I might be ready to tackle something more than a five percent slope, he led me to the ski lift. The attendant noticed that I still wasn’t very comfortable on skis and tried to show me how to get on the lift. Nicky was having none of it and made clear to the attendant that I was his responsibility. The attendant shrugged and looked elsewhere for business.
We got off the lift at a sign for a slope that Nicky said was marked ‘intermediate’. If ‘intermediate’ means near-vertical-descent-to-death, then I guess it was. Surprisingly, I didn’t die. Nicky showed me how to control my descent by either snowplowing or skiing back and forth across the slope, managing any tendency to pick up too much speed. After a few runs on that slope, I wasn’t dead: I was an expert!
Or maybe not. On the fourth trip down I ran into Aislinn Kennedy. Literally. Fortunately, neither of us was injured. She actually appeared to be delighted to see me. When she heard that I was just learning to ski, she was excited that I was becoming ‘a real native’.
Nicky glared daggers at her when she tried to intrude on his turf by offering me a few tips. But she was so friendly and pleasant to him that he couldn’t stay angry. By the time she rejoined her family an hour later, I was starting to wonder if I had misjudged Nicky’s loyalty to our team.
After a few more runs on that intermediate slope, we bumped into Adam—figuratively, this time. He actually seemed impressed with how quickly I was learning and gave Nicky a pat on the back. We made another run or two together, then took a break to find Mr. and Mrs. Crandall and get a bite to eat.
We returned to the slopes for several more runs as the sun was starting to set. Lights were coming on, but the Crandall’s decided that we had probably pushed hard enough for everyone’s first time on the slopes since the previous winter. I couldn’t disagree. I had enjoyed almost every minute of it, but I was also tired and feeling some muscle aches.
As we drove home, Nicky insisted that we would spend a lot of time on the mountain in the coming months. I was looking forward to it.
The arrival of freezing weather heralded the start of basketball season and new fodder for conversation at school. The success of our soccer team had been great, but life moves on. And really, that was almost a relief for me. I needed a respite to just chill with friends and to reflect on the changes that had been wrought in my life.
There were a few hopeful questions about whether I played basketball. But for most, the question was answered almost before they asked as they regarded all five feet and four inches of me. Nicky seemed more surprised and disappointed by my negative response, but his perspective was skewed by his five-foot-two-inch stature and his boundless optimism.
Basketball was Max Packwood’s season. At six-foot-seven, and with a powerful body, he was a behemoth that dominated under both hoops. Groupies flocked around him from the day the season opened. Once or twice, I saw him sneer at me. I wondered casually if he and Rachel were becoming friendly. As far as I was concerned, he was welcome to the attention. I needed a break to consolidate my social gains and figure out which ones should become most important to me.
Unfortunately for Max, the basketball season wouldn’t be the triumph he anticipated. The Black Bears had a solid record, but in early March they would be bounced from the second round of the state championship tourney. I wasn’t disappointed. But I also wouldn’t have minded if Max and the team had brought home another state championship to help cap his senior year. The guy didn’t seem to like me, but I really didn’t have any hard feelings toward him. I just hoped that he and Rachel didn’t become too friendly. That might have been bad for me.
Our family returned to Darien for the Christmas holiday. It was nice to see family and friends, but we had just seen them all a month ago.
Nana seemed particularly interested in finding some time to spend with me. She had a lot of questions about my soccer accomplishments, my grades, my new friends, how I was fitting into the school social environment and the surrounding community.
I thought I had accomplished a lot in a very short time. I think Nana was pleased for me. She was visibly proud when I mentioned mentoring the younger kids in Phys Ed class. But then Delta Force Nana, the motivational speaker, reasserted herself.
“You did most of those things here in Darien, too, Ross. So you proved that you can do them again. But how have you changed as a person? Have you become stronger, with a firm set of values, and a plan to keep growing every day? You might want to start thinking about those things and putting some goals for yourself in writing!”
I really miss my grandpa. He was so good for Nana.
We returned to East Grange on the Sunday after the New Year. On the drive north, I found myself unconsciously thinking about Nana’s questions. Boredom can really mess with your mind!
I suppose it was true that I hadn’t accomplished anything new. I had a really good soccer season. I had a good group of friends. I was doing okay in school. Most of the kids and the teachers liked me and I liked them. I wasn’t pushing myself or any boundaries, but my life was good the way it was! Why did Nana think I had to change? Just because her life had changed suddenly didn’t mean that I had to change mine.
At least I didn’t think so.
When we arrived back in East Grange, I found that Nicky had left about thirty-seven messages on our telephone answering machine. He and his family were planning to go skiing the following weekend and he was sure that I should come with them. He didn’t want me to lose the skills I had started to develop!
Mom was curious about this obsessed kid that had left so many messages for me. I suppose I should have already given Nicky my cell phone number.
I checked with Mom and Dad to make sure that I could go skiing with the Crandalls. They approved, but Mom insisted that the invitation had to come from Mr. and Mrs. Crandall.
I called Nicky to deliver the message. Calls went back and forth. Mom was satisfied that the Crandalls were willing to have me along. I gave Nicky my cell phone number. He got real excited.
School was back in session the following day. Adam met me in the lobby. I was a bit surprised. We were friends, but Adam didn’t often go out of his way to connect with me. I think he spent most of his time with Trevor.
He was smiling. “Man, you have got to do something to get Nicky to chill! Ever since you told him you could come skiing with us again, he’s almost been wetting himself with excitement. And I have to ride in the back seat of the car with him. So if there’s an accident, it’s on you!” He punched me in the shoulder, but he was still smiling.
Talking to Adam about Nicky’s interests had felt awkward to me, but if ever there was an opportunity . . .
“What’s the deal with Nicky, anyway?” I couldn’t help blushing and shuffling my feet unconsciously. “He seems like he has a lot of friends he could go skiing with.”
Adam eyed me curiously. “He really likes you, Ross. Ever since you took an interest in him in your gym class, you’re almost the only thing he talks about at home. Mom and Dad like you, but I think the main reason they don’t mind having you along on our ski trips is because Nicky will be talking to you instead of talking to them about you.” He seemed amused, but also almost as awkward as I was feeling.
I wasn’t sure how to say what needed to be said next, so I just said it. “Does that mean he plays for the team, Adam?”
It was an uncomfortable question. “I really don’t know, man. Nicky doesn’t talk about that stuff much. I’m not even sure how much he really understands.”
Well, when in doubt, punt! “So what should I do, Adam? I really like Nicky. I might even like him that way. But I’ve been trying not to think about it. I don’t want to mess up our friendship. And I really do respect him.”
Adam seemed relieved. “If you don’t mind, let Nicky decide, Ross. If he suggests something you don’t want to do, or maybe just hints at it, find a way to tell him ‘no’ without hurting him. But if he suggests something and you want to do it, I really won’t care as long as you protect him. Just as long as it’s his decision. Remember, this is all new to him.” He put his arm around my shoulder and we strolled off in the direction of our respective home rooms.
With that blessing, my week was off to a very good start.