On Top of the World

[[Martin's POV]]

I burst through the doors of that God-forsaken school, sighing deeply as I took in the warm, end of summer breeze that was fluttering within the air. Finally, I felt like I could breathe. Seeing Frank for a minute was wonderful, but with my current state of mind, I didn’t want him seeing me like this.

As I made my out to the football field, I sighed once more, my insides feeling as though they’d been ripped apart as I recalled the conversation that just turned my life completely upside down.

“What’s this about, Coach?” I asked, looking up at Coach Beckett from my slumped position in the seat in front of him, the only thing guarding us from each other being the mahogany wood desk that served as a barrier between us.

“Martin, we feel it’s in everyone’s best interest that you quit the team,” he began, but I quickly jumped in to interrupt him.

“Everyone’s best interest? Including mine, right?” I asked, giving the coach a stupid look.

“Don’t be difficult son, I mean, Martin-”

I looked up at him again, noticing that he seemingly winced at his own words. “Look, you just can’t be a part of this football team anymore. The team has decided-”

“The team decided?!” I shrieked, my voice growing in volume. I knew I was out of line, but this was a completely unfair situation. “Of course the team decided; the team was against me from the beginning! They’re the ones that did this shit to me!”

I realized that the tone that I had taken was sort of unnecessary, and if there was any hope of salvaging what was left of my spot on the team, I needed to tone it down a bit.

“You’re supposed to look out for the well-being of all of your players,” I began, trying not to sound as worked up. “Coach, you’ve always played favorites. You’ve been against me until you realized that I was actually good, and that when you used me as quarterback that we actually had a shot at winning. You needed me to pick up the slack that was this pathetic excuse for a team, and even then you did nothing to recognize me!”

He sat back, giving me an unamused look. “Are you finished?”

“Not even close,” I replied, eyeing him intently. “From day one I have been picked on. You saw how they treated me, yet you did nothing to stop it.”

“Why didn’t you leave the team then, if you hated it so much?”

“Because I like to play football. And I knew that eventually I would get my chance. It was never about being accepted, it was about being respected. I didn’t think it was fair that the other guys treated me like shit because I was slightly different than them! Only after Adam got hurt last year is when you decided to let me play, and that was simply because you had no other choice!”

“Are you-”

“No, I’m not fucking finished,” I retorted, giving him an angry look. “You hated me even then; even when I started winning games for you. The other guys stopped picking on me; only after I threatened to quit the team. They knew that they needed me, so they backed off. So why now? Why all of a sudden do they get to keep their spots on the team, but I have to leave?”

He sighed, seemingly defeated.

“Why should they be rewarded for beating the shit out of me, and I’m the one that gets punished?”

“It’s because you’re arm is broken-”

“-Fractured.”

“Your arm is fractured, and you aren’t healthy. It’s a waste to have to recruit new players and train the second string how to do the first string’s job-”

“That’s a bullshit answer, Coach, and you know it,” I interrupted, rolling my eyes. “My arm will heal up in no time, two weeks at the most, and then I’ll be back in business. Face it, you want me gone, don’t you?”

“Martin, your kind doesn’t belong on the football field-”

“My kind?!” I exclaimed, standing up from my chair. “What does that even mean?!”

“Sit down son, let me explain-”

“Why are you calling me ‘son’ all of a sudden?” I asked, utterly confused. He has never called me that before.

He sighed once again. “Martin, while you were out yesterday, we had a team vote. You know that happens only once in a lifetime, but you know the rule. If the answer is unanimous, then the ruling goes. The team voted, and it’s decided that you are off the team. It was a unanimous decision-”

“Wait… unanimous?” I asked, my voice lowering. I had a few friends on the team… how could they vote against me? “How could this be?”

“It’s simple. We don’t want someone like you on our team. So please, if you could, leave.”

“So, that’s it? That’s really all you have to say to me?” I asked, my voice still low. Coach Beckett didn’t even look up at me.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

“Like hell you are,” I said, rolling my eyes as I reached for the door handle. “If you were sorry, you would never have let your favorite players do this to me. So what if I’m different, that doesn’t make me a bad person. I didn’t deserve this.”

He glanced at my bandaged arm, then at my still somewhat fucked up face, and gave me a sympathetic look. For the first time since I came in here, he has stopped to give me sympathy.

“This is the price you have to pay son, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” I interrupted him, my blood boiling. I was furious. “I am not your son, although you do remind me an awful lot of my dickhead father,” I continued, snarling at him.

“Get out of my office, before I call someone to have you escorted out.”

“What, are you going to call your favorite little football players to come and kick my ass again?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “They’ve already done that, and you’ve apparently just kicked me off of the team for absolutely no reason!”

“Oh, I had my reasons. I’m looking out for the safety of my players-”

“And what about me, Coach? When your boys were out there beating the hell out of me, what about me? Was I not worth looking after?” I asked, interrupting him. He didn’t reply. Instead, he pressed the button on his phone, apparently calling the front office to get me ‘removed from his office’.

I was angry. So angry, that I don’t know what came over me. I knocked his phone/intercom off of his desk, as I shouted, “This isn’t over!”

He stared at me in shock, frozen at his desk.

“You can’t get rid of me so easily, Coach,” I spoke through gritted teeth, my fists clenched tightly together. “I will be back,” I assured him, before exiting his office…

“You look like you’re having a rough day,” spoke a soft voice, startling me out of my thoughts. I literally jumped back to reality, snapping out of my little trance as I looked down beside me, noticing a rather… beautiful boy sitting down right at the top of the bleachers. I was so distracted that I hadn’t even noticed that I had an audience.

“You must be Martin,” he mused, leaning back on his elbows, cocking his head to the side, glancing up at me thoughtfully.

“Yeah,” I murmured, glancing skeptically at him. “How do you know who I am?” I asked, utterly confused at to who he was, and more importantly, how he knew who I was.

“Oh, your name has been brought up a lot around my house,” he replied, giving me a charming grin. “I know quite a bit about you, actually.”

“Such as?” I questioned, sticking a cigarette in my mouth. He glanced at me thoughtfully, shaking his head as I offered him one.

“No thanks,” he said, giving me a rather charming smile. “That stuff is bad for you, you know.”

I leaned back against the railing of the bleachers, and lit it up anyway, instantly feeling a wave of relief wash over me as the nicotine began to filter through my system. “I asked you a question,” I reminded him. “How is it that you know who I am? And what is it that you know?”

He smiled. “Well… for starters, I know how you were the brilliant, shining star of this school’s football team,” he began, eyeing me carefully. “I know how you brought this team out of its losing streak with that wonderful throwing arm of yours, and took this pathetic excuse for a team all the way to the playoffs last year where, because of you, the team won the state championship for the first time in twenty-three years,” he continued, quite proud of his knowledge about my achievements over the past year.

“Well, yes, that much is true,” I reasoned, giving him a small smile. I was intrigued with how much he knew about me. I had never seen him before, so I figured that he didn’t go to our school… so, why was he here? On top of the bleachers, appearing as if he were looking… for me?

“Who are you?” I asked, unable to stop my curiosity.

Another charming grin. “You can just call me, Bill,” he replied, sticking his hand out for me to shake, which of course, I did.

“Okay Bill,” I mused, noticing how soft his hand was. He wore a ton of bracelets upon his bony arm, and he was ridiculously intriguing; but he didn’t intrigue me in the same way that Frank did when I first saw him. There’s a very big difference between him and Frank, the main one being that I was attracted to Frank from the beginning, and I do not in any way feel attracted to this guy sitting next to me. Although he is incredibly attractive, and his face is quite beautiful, he isn’t Frank.

No, this boy holds my attention in a very different way than Frank does; I wish he would get down to the damn point already.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, fed up with waiting for him to come around and tell me on his own.

“I’m here for you,” he replied, once more giving me that charming smile.

“Well um,” I began, my stomach beginning to turn. “That’s nice, but, I don’t think-”

He chuckled. “Relax, Martin, I didn’t mean it like that,” Bill replied reassuringly. “I heard what happened to you the other day. I had to come see for myself how bad a number they did on you… and now that I have… well, I think I might be able to help.”

This boy just keeps getting more and more intriguing. “How in the world can you possibly help me?” I asked, tossing my cigarette aside. “I don’t even know you! Hell, you don’t even know me!”

“I know you a lot better than you would think. And believe me, I know a thing or two about what it’s like to be cast aside by Coach Beckett-”

My eyes widened. “How did you know about that?”

Bill sighed. “Because he’s my dad,” he replied softly, eyeing me sympathetically. My eyes widened upon hearing his words; suddenly it all made sense.

“I know what it’s like to be discarded by him, all because you’re slightly different and didn’t turn out to be who he wanted you to be,” he spoke again, plucking me from my thoughts. “I heard what his plans for you were, so… I skipped school to come here today so I could come and find you. I figured you might need my help.”

I exhaled sharply, instantly taking out my pack of smokes again, and stuck another in my mouth. “So let me get this straight,” I began, lighting up my cigarette. “Just to make sure we’re on the same page; you’re Coach Beckett’s son? I didn’t even know he had a son!”

He nodded, a pained expression finally wiping away his pretty smile.

“Of course you wouldn’t know about me. He pretends like I don’t exist,” Bill sighed, although cracking a tiny smile. “My real name is William Beckett, Jr.; I hate my father though, so I refuse to carry on his name. I don’t know where the Bill came from, it just… sort of stuck,” he admitted, advancing closer toward me.

“My parents divorced because of me. My dad hated the fact that I wasn’t the ‘perfect son’ that he always dreamed of having. He was pissed off that I’d grown into a flower instead of a… star quarterback, like you,” he said, a downcast look gracing his features. My heart began to ache; I had inadvertently caused him to feel like he wasn’t good enough for his father. I sighed; I know a thing or two how that feels like…

I glanced back at him, realizing that he had more to say.

“That’s why he had given you such a hard time in the beginning, Martin. He saw your eyeliner, and your tight pants, and since he is such a homophobe… he instantly knew you were like me,” Bill continued, shaking his head. “He didn’t give you a chance, all because of me. I’m so sorry!”

“Yo, William, I mean... Bill, it’s really okay,” I said, attempting to calm him down. It looked as if he was about to hyperventilate. He obviously had this pent up inside of him for a long time; I can only imagine what must be going through his mind right now.

“It isn’t your fault that your father is an idiot and treated me like I was contaminated. Once I began winning those games for him, he lightened up on me, only because I threatened to quit the team if the threats and the bullying didn’t stop. Everything was fine after that… the guys backed off of me, he treated me better, he actually treated me like I was golden until…” I trailed off.

“Until you met your boyfriend,” Bill finished for me. “Until he realized, you were just like me.”

I sighed. “Yes, until he realized that I was like you, and liked boys. But none of this is your fault! You can’t blame yourself for this, I won’t let you.”

“I’ve been meaning to apologize to you for over a year now. I was, for a short while, angry with you. After word started going around about you, I would sneak off to come and see you play… I hated the way my dad was so proud of you, the way I wished he could have been for me. After I had failed him, he wished so much for the perfect son…”

“But he already had one,” I said, making Bill smile slightly. “I admit, I did look up to him as if he were a father figure. My dad bailed on my mom and me a few years ago too, for the exact same reasons as your old man did. But your dad never called me son, until today.”

Bill’s eyes widened. “He didn’t?”

“Nope,” I assured him. “In fact, I think today, I reminded him of you again. He called me son for the first time ever, well… at least to my knowledge, anyway.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Bill,” I spoke sharply, grasping him by his shoulders. Not hard though, since I knew he was in fact, a delicate flower. I didn’t want to crush him.

“Again, you do not need to apologize to me. I only just met you, but I can tell that you’re a nice guy. The way you skipped school all for the sake of coming here today to apologize to me, and how you’re trying to look out for me even though I’ve caused you pain and heartache in the past? You’re a wonderful person, and I’d much rather be like you, than an asshole like your father or anyone else on that fucking team,” I said, literally all in one breath. I cracked a smile, and added, “Stop apologizing to me.”

Bill grinned. “Thank you,” he shrieked, wrapping me in a tight hug. “I have been dying to tell you all of these things, to face you like this… I’m so glad that I finally got the chance to talk to you! It’s a huge weight off my shoulders.”

I smiled at Bill’s enthusiasm, and hugged him back. “Well, how did you know what was going on?” I asked, still confused as to how he knew so much about the things that had currently been going on. “You said your folks are divorced, and you live with your mom. How is it that you know so much about what’s going on right now? Like, between me and Frank?”

He blushed. “Well, since I’m not eighteen yet, I still have to spend some weekends over at his house. This past weekend happened to be one of those times,” he explained, to which I nodded, waiting to hear the rest of his story.

“I left my laptop cord over by his house, and I had to go back there to get it. When I walked inside, he was on the phone yelling to someone about how… his star quarterback was just the same as his homo son. And that’s when I knew I needed to do something. I had to put a stop to this.”

My eyes widened. “So, you knew that he would have it out for me?”

He nodded. “I knew something was going on, yes. Word got around at my school the next day about the accident on the football field, and… well, I knew that I was too late, that I didn’t get here in time. I came here yesterday, in hopes of finding you, but when I didn’t see you or anyone that resembled the description I heard of your boyfriend, who is awfully adorable, I might add… I figured you were out of school due to what had happened. I felt awful that I didn’t get here to try to stop it.”

“He is completely adorable,” I added, unable to stop the smile from forming on my face at the mention of my Frankie. “What could you have done though?” I asked, eyeing him curiously. “Would you have tried to help me fight them off?”

“No but, I have a feeling that my father was the one that orchestrated that sneak attack. And trust me, I can get my father to do literally anything I want in order to keep people from finding out that he has a faggot son,” he grinned, rolling his eyes. “I’m not sure what I could have done, but I do know that doing nothing made me feel completely miserable. I could have threatened that if anything happened to you, I would let everyone know the truth about his son.”

“You are such a sweetheart,” I murmured, wrapping him in another embrace, this time more meaningful than the last. I didn’t know what it is about him that made me do this, but I have never felt more close to anyone before in my life. This boy knows the same pain that I am currently feeling, and heard my crying heart without even meeting me once. He came to my rescue without question, trying to somehow save me from something he knew I couldn’t handle alone.

I felt like I had finally found a friend, someone I could truly count on. “Thank you for everything,” I whispered, kissing his temple.

Upon pulling away, my eyes landed on the two pairs of eyes that were watching us from the bottom of the bleachers, trying to remain hidden. Just as my heart felt like it was beginning to heal, I could feel it shattering once more as I made eye contact with my Frank, and saw the devastated look that he wore upon his always beautiful face. I noticed that my arm was still wrapped around my new friend, and that his arms were wrapped around me as well, and… that my lips were just upon his skin.

That’s when it hit me; Frank must have seen.

“Frankie,” I sighed, making Bill’s head snap to attention. He followed my gaze to Frank, who had turned around and was now walking back toward the school’s building with Mikey in tow.

“Can nothing ever fucking go right?” I asked, instantly taking off down the bleachers after him.

“Frankie!” I called after him once again, but it did no use. He kept on walking, as if he didn’t hear me. I began running toward him, eventually catching up to him a few moments later.

“Baby, would you please just talk to me?” I asked, my heart rate increasing as we finally stopped walking. I placed my free arm around his waist from behind, holding him tightly against my chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly, melting mine as I placed my lips to his temple, kissing him softly.

Bad idea. He seemed to remember why he was angry at me, and pried himself away from my grasp and turned to glare at me.

“How could you?” He asked, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence that had formed all around us.

“Frankie, I-”

“Please don’t call me that,” he interrupted me, his words sharp and clear as he stared back at me. My eyes were wide, and I had lost my train of thought.

“Frankie, please-”

“I asked you already not to call me that,” he repeated again, this time more harshly than before. We stared each other down for what seemed like a lifetime, but it was only until he turned to once again walk away that I found my voice again.

However, I was too late. The damage was done; no matter what I said, he didn’t stop walking, his footsteps only increased in speed. As I began running after him, I felt someone tugging at my hoodie, preventing me from moving.

“Let him go,” Bill spoke in his gentle voice, which caused me to glare at him.

“What the hell? Let go of me, I need to talk to him-”

“He needs time,” Bill interrupted, once again tugging me back. “I’m so sorry I fucked things up, that wasn’t my intention for coming here, I swear.”

“I know it wasn’t,” I sighed, running my fingers frustratingly through my hair. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Thanks for all your help,” I said to him, giving him a warm smile before I once again took off after Frank.

I needed to make things right.