The Connection

MM: do you just listen to that indie crap?

AR: Indie crap is my favorite, thanks. But no, I listen to a lot of music.

MM: like?

AR: Punk, some folk, show tunes, classic rock, eighties stuff.

MM: gonna ignore show tunes for now. classic rock, tho?

AR: Yep. I like the Beatles, Nirvana, Bob Dylan, some AC/DC.

MM: I have so much to teach you.

AR: I can hardly wait.

________

“Um… Hi.”

The sound is deafening. Is it usually this loud in the cafeteria? Or is it just this loud at the Footballer’s partially filled table? Avery wouldn’t even be here if he didn’t have to talk to Cooper, and if Max was already here? Well, Avery would rather risk stealing Kat’s phone than walk right up to Max Matthews out in the open, despite their daily correspondence. Cooper looks up through his long dirty blonde bangs, chewing on a questionable cafeteria cheeseburger.

“Hey, Avery. What brings you to our little corner of the world?”

Cooper doesn’t say it with any malice, just mild curiosity, like a kid at a rather interesting science exhibit. Avery’s always liked Cooper the best out of all the Footballers. He’s never had a chip on his overly big shoulder that needed to be healed by beating up nerdy kids like himself. And Cooper’s never treated him like a leper for the whole being gay thing, or even for the being Max’s personal whipping boy thing. Although, that may have a lot to do with Kat being his best friend.

“I just wanted to talk to you for a second?” Avery says softly, very aware of the prying eyes (and ears, he’s sure) of Nicole Allen at the other end of the table. Cooper shrugs.

“Sure. Sit down.” He says, nodding at the bench across from himself.

“Ah… I… I don’t—“

“If you’re worried about Max or anyone else, don’t. They’re all at a meeting. I personally, don’t care about a new team policy or what the hell ever and its cheeseburger day. So, did they really expect me to show?” Cooper says offhandedly, his cheek bulging with food. Avery stares at him a second longer, his face feeling bloodless. But Cooper dropped it so casually, does he know? Or does he assume that Avery doesn’t want a dinner and a show for all the students in Franklin? Cooper swallows, and then grins.

“You know that best friend of yours? She can’t keep a secret to save her life. And I find myself in the happy position to call myself one, if not the only, of Max’s buddies.” He says, his voice lowered enough so that Nikki and her other cheerleading gal pals can’t overhear them. Cooper nods again.

“You’re drawing more attention to yourself by standing, by the way.”

Robotically, Avery slips clumsily into the bench seat across from Cooper. His face has gone from lifeless corpse to virgin watching a porno for the first time in less than two seconds. Cooper seems totally unfazed by Avery’s full body flush (just like Kat. It’s really no wonder they’re Soul Mates, God damnit.), he simply unwraps his second cheeseburger. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the blurry shapes of the Cheer team, huddle closer together, whispering rapidly and shooting terrified, disgusted glances at him over their salads.

“I assume you didn’t call upon me to chat about Soul Mates, though.” Cooper says around a mouthful of burger. Avery looks up, pushing his glasses up his nose. Right, he came here with a mission. He can have a panic attack later.

“I did, actually. Yours.” Avery says quietly, throwing a glance at the tittering group of girls. Cooper tracks the movement with his own light gray eyes.

“Oh, Kat? What about her?” He says loudly, pointedly, chomping into his fries and not batting an eyelash. Nikki scoffs, perhaps louder and more pointedly, staring daggers at the unlikely pair.

“Y-You told them?” Avery questions hesitantly. Cooper shrugs, running a hand through his shaggy bangs.

“Yeah, why not? I’m not ashamed. Why should I be? Kat’s a wonderful lady, a bit rough around the edges. But hey, no one’s perfect.” He says shrugging again, like it’s no big deal. And it’s clearly not to him, despite the purely venomous looks he’s receiving from the opposite end of the table. Avery feels a sudden rush of warmth in his chest for Cooper Cleft and his obvious affection for his cantankerous best friend.

“Speaking of which, where is she?” Cooper asks, eyes scanning the crowded cafeteria. Avery chuckles.

“Lunch detention, from Smith’s class. Talking back, I think. ”

“I will never understand why she took that Social issues class.” Cooper says rolling his eyes. And Avery couldn’t agree more.

“I honestly think she likes to fight with old white men. Or anyone, really.”

“She does like to fight with old white guys. You should see her with my dad.” Cooper says knowingly, nodding, giving Avery another crocked sort of grin. And oddly enough, Avery finds himself grinning back. Focus, Avery. Focus.

“Right, well. Yeah… I um, read the message you sent her on New Year’s.” Avery begins shiftily.

“Oh… that. And I see you didn’t help a guy out and convince her to come with me. I ate the greasiest breakfast all by my lonesome.” Cooper says, again in that offhanded tone, but his frown deepens slightly.

“Yeah, well. I tried. I really did, but you know how Kat is and she kept saying—“

“Is this one of her stupid low self-worth things?” Cooper interrupts with a raised eyebrow. God, why has Avery never had a conversation with this guy before? Think of all the embarrassing tidbits they could share about a certain redhead. And, for a Footballer, he’s actually pretty cool. Avery smiles slightly, and nods. Cooper heaves a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes.

“But I think you could maybe convince her? Maybe?” Avery ventures haltingly.

“If you’ve got a way to woo her, I’m all ears, dude. I’ve been trying for like, ever.” Cooper says, actually putting down the burger.

Avery takes a deep breath. Kat’s going to hate him when she finds out that he spilled her closely guarded, seasoned therapist proof secrets and feelings to Cooper Cleft. Most of which, concern the summer between Cooper’s eighth grade graduation party and the first day of Freshman year, where he showed up with Morgan Thompson hanging off his arm like a underfed sloth. But, maybe, just maybe, she’ll thank him for fixing their rocky, very weird non relationship.

Oh God, he really hopes so.

________

Why has he been so stupid?

He really should have checked with Kat to see if they had the same block of P.E this semester. But he didn’t, because he’s stupid. And although he’s not the only junior here struggling to achieve the state mandated Physical Education quota, he feels more valuable than usual. And a lot has to do with his rather unhealthy codependency on Kat. But there’s that other issue. Avery glances up at the top of bleachers, where a rather unimpressive senior sits, holding court with a bunch of senior thugs and other social climbers. The boy looks to be nothing special, taller than average and slightly muscular, with short, messily styled auburn hair. He lounges, sprawled out comfortably chatting with his friends, smirking nastily.

But for as unassuming as Logan Harris looks, Avery and everyone else at Franklin High know differently.

Harris used to be the quarterback for the Franklin Vikings; he was popular and charismatic, charming teachers and most of the Administrators with an easy smile and a playful, yet polite attitude. Most of the students, however, saw him in a much different light. Logan made Max look like a loving and friendly person. And the stories of beating that Harris inflicted on people (always off campus, and always out of bounds for the school), made Max’s three year battery of Avery look like sweet snuggling.

Harris has a temper, a terrible one at that. And last year he got into an actual, punching, stomach kicking brawl with a rival team’s running back on the field. During the Homecoming game. In front of parents and everyone else. The Board and the football coaches had to face the allegations of Harris’ nasty temper and bullying of other students. Logan Harris was suspended from school for a week, and given an all-out ban from playing football at Franklin for the rest of his high school career. And then a sophomore and the second string quarterback for Franklin became the official quarterback.

Needless to say, Logan didn’t send a ‘congratulations!’ fruit basket to Max.

Luckily (and totally bizarrely), Avery’s never really been on Harris’ radar. Avery’s sure that Harris knows him. How could he not? The only gay kid in a rural school of six hundred (total, not just Avery’s class)? Yeah, everyone knows him.

“See something you like, faggot?”

Logan’s voice is clear and ringing in the subdued chatter of the gym, his sneer harder than Max’s ever was. His cronies all guffaw stupidly, expectedly. Avery raises an eyebrow in defiance, refusing to let his mild surprise show. He hadn’t been paying attention, and he’d been staring. Harris is leering down at him, his eyes glinting like the jagged edges of broken glass. He’s expecting a reaction, like all bullies do. Avery rolls his eyes, and turns his head away from Harris and his nastily grinning gang. The laugh louder at something Logan says, but Avery refuses to turn around and glorify their childish behavior. He, instead, sighs and checks his empty text messages.

So much for staying off the radar.