8

-North-

THE LOCKERroom is heaving with the familiar tang of young men everywhere—body odor, stale sweat, body spray, and cheese. The scent of my people.

I peel my clothes off slowly and change into my gear as the noise and smell of my teammates swells up around me.

I gulp, trying to slow my racing pulse. This is fine, these are my guys. Everyone of them has had my back in the past, and something as trivial as who I sleep with isn't going to change that. Right? Not all of them are one hundred percent straight anyway.

But what if they do have an issue with it? Mal isn't just some guy, he's one of us. Is that crossing some kind of line?

Or what if I tell them and they pretend they don't have an issue, but secretly they do?

I close my eyes and put both my hands on the front of my locker. Stop overthinking and just do it.

Mal isn't here yet, his last class is on the other side of campus so it takes a little longer to get here. I don't know if that will make it easier or not, but I feel like I should do this on my own. Everyone already knows Mal isn't straight, and he doesn't care what they think of him anyway. The only reason he hasn't told anyone yet is because he doesn't give enough fucks to make an "official announcement"—and because of me, of course. And I don't want to put him on the spot like that, even if he doesn't care. This is all me, and it's time I man up and tell everyone I'm fucking a dude.

Someone slaps me on the back, and I jump and swallow a yelp as my soul leaves my body.

"Yo, Alaska, what's up?" Josh says. "You look like you've got the world on your shoulders, bro."

"Oh, hey," I say.

"I need to talk to you," he says, then looks around. "Where's Malcolm at? I swear that dude's your big scary shadow."

Josh seems like a good place to start. "I guess he's running late," I say, trying to sound casual. "But I need to talk to you too."

Ok. This is it. I'm going to tell him. I take a deep breath. I can feel my face going red, and he looks at me with concern.

"Josh, I . . . uh." I hesitate. How do I actually say it? Maybe I should have pre-planned a script.

He frowns, genuinely concerned now. "Are you ok, North?"

"Yeah, I . . ."

Shit, my chest is pounding and I need to just say it before I chicken out.

"I'm going out with Mal," I say in a sudden rush. His frowning face opens up with what looks like surprise, and I cringe inwardly and keep on talking. "I mean, me and Mal, we're together. Like, as an item. Romantically. We've been together for a while and I thought I should probably, like, let you guys know, just so it's not, you know, a shock or anything. We've been sneaking around but I don't want to do that anymore."

"Oh," he says.

That's it. Oh. What does "oh" mean?

He's been frozen this whole time, eyebrows almost disappearing under his hairline, but now he moves, glances around awkwardly like he can't meet my eyes, like he's trying to figure out how to say something, and all I can think is fuck, have I made a mistake?

Finally he speaks. "Erm. Yeah, we . . . uh, kinda knew that already."

I blink. "What?"

Out of all the possible answers, that isn't one I'm expecting. Then his words register fully and I say, "Wait, who's ‘we?'"

He smiles. It's apologetic and slightly awkward. Sheepish. Again, not what I was expecting. "The Team? Sorry, I don't want to steal your big ‘coming out' thunder. But we already know." His smile is chagrined, like he's making a confession. "Come on, dude, you were hardly even sneaking. Malcolm gives you those dark smoldering eyes and then you both scurry off to the showers together? It doesn't take a genius to figure out what's going on."

My mouth falls open.

Josh gives me a sheepish shrug. "Even Randy figured out something was going on."

"He did?" I ask dumbly.

Randy, who I wasn't aware could even hear us, pipes up from the other side of the room. "Yeah, you guys really don't have a concept of what subtle means, do ya?"

I'm lost for words, and my head whips round as Ethan leans around the side of the lockers, his shirt bunched up on his forearms near his elbows, pausing in the act of stripping off.

"Oh, are we finally talking about North and Malcolm?" Ethan says. "Thank god. It's been so hard trying not to say anything."

I stare at them as they carry on getting changed like nothing's happened. None of them seem concerned in the slightest.

"You all know?" I say. It comes out as more of a squeak. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"You seemed like you were having fun sneaking around," Josh says. "We didn't want to ruin it."

Every one of them nods and murmurs in agreement. Except Brad, who walks out of the shower with a towel around his waist and a confused look on his face. He looks around. "Know what? What are we talking about?"

"North and Mal are banging," Josh offers.

"What?" Brad turns to me, even more confused. "You guys are banging? I didn't know that."

Josh looks incredulous. "Do you live under a fucking rock? They've been so obvious, to the point of being, like, painful."

"Yeah, man," Ethan adds. "It's old news. Where've you been?"

Brad looks at me, all hurt and betrayed. "How come everyone else knew but me, Alaska? That's not fair."

Ok, this is getting more and more surreal by the second. I've gone from anxious to just plain bewildered.

"Sorry, bro," I say. "If it helps, I didn't know everyone knew either."

"I'm always the last one to know everything," Brad grumbles, making his way to his locker.

Josh cuffs him around the head as he goes past. "Shut up you idiot, North is trying to have a big moment of truth."

That's it. I slump down on the bench and cover my face with my hands. I've dreaded the team finding out, and they've already known this whole damn time. The rug's been pulled out from under my feet, and I feel like a massive fucking idiot, but I'm also so relieved my legs feel weak. I can't help a slightly hysterical laugh.

Josh drops his voice. "That's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about. If I didn't already know, you two going at it in his car in the parking lot would have been a massive giveaway."

I whip my head up.

"You saw that?"

"Yeah, sorry, bro. I wasn't perving or anything. You left your shoes on the bench and I was just going to give them to you, but I saw that and just . . . backed away slowly. Just a heads up, you might want to keep it a bit more private. I'm pretty sure doing that on campus is against the rules."

"Shit."

Oh god, now the blush is burning me with a vengeance. This has gone from bewildering to excruciatingly embarrassing in a split second.

Josh slaps his hand on my shoulder. "Don't sweat it, bro. Look, we don't care what kinda freaky shit you get up to in the bedroom. Or the car. It's none of our business."

"As long as you two are having a good time that's all that matters, right?" Ethan says. "He makes you happy?"

I nod, my throat feeling tight.

"Then that's the most important thing, bro."

"Thanks, guys," I say

"I don't know why you didn't just tell us. You know we'd be cool with it."

"I know. I was just worried you guys would think differently of me."

"Different how? You're a pussy magnet. Makes sense you'd be a dick magnet too." He shrugs. "Just, be a bit more careful about where you do it next time, ok? I love you man, but some images are hard to forget."

"Especially if you jerk off to them," Randy calls.

Jason balls his jock strap and throws it across the room in a perfect arc that smacks directly into Randy's face. "Jerk off to that, douche canoe."

Randy screams and trips over the bench. God I love these guys.

"And if anyone gives you shit, they'll have all of us to deal with. We got your back, Alaska."

The door to the locker room opens and Mal appears with his bag over his shoulder and a scowl on his face. He stops, scans the room, then his eyes zero in on me.

"What's going on?" he says, as he moves to stand between me and the rest of the guys, shoulders squared and glaring. My black knight. The guys take a step back.

"It's alright, Mal, we're just talking. Apparently everyone already knows about us," I say.

"And we're all cool with it, dude, no problem at all," Josh says quickly, raising his hands slightly to ward off Mal's glare.

Mal deflates slightly. "Oh."

"Oh?" I echo.

That's all he has to say?

He dumps his bag on the bench next to me. "Well, yeah, we were kind of obvious."

Are me and Brad the only oblivious idiots here?

With Mal's appearance, the council disperses and everything goes back to normal again. Josh hangs around and slaps Mal on the shoulder. "You're scary as shit, dude, but you be good to him, ok?" he says.

After a beat Mal actually smiles. And all is right with the world.

I laugh.

***

After practice we head to the small room off the library where the study group is being held. Before we go in, I pause, one hand on the door.

"So, you know I said this was a study group?" I say.

"Yes," Mal says.

"It's not exactly that."

He narrows his eyes. "Then what is it exactly?"

"It's a group. But instead of studying we just talk about stuff."

Silence.

"What stuff?"

"Just, stuff. Stuff that we want to talk about..."

"A social group?"

I purse my lips. "Kinda."

Ten seconds later we're sitting on plastic chairs that are arranged in a circle in the middle of the room, and Mal is glaring at me.

"Hello, everyone. Welcome to this month's well-being meeting," Professor Kane says. He's sitting forward in his chair, speaking in a calm voice that someone might use if they were talking to a class of kindergarteners.

This might not have been my best idea.

When I saw Professor Kane pinning up the flier for the monthly well-being club after business class, the first thing I thought of was Mal. If there's one person that needs some damn well-being, it's him. But there was no way he'd come if I told him what the group was actually for, so I told him a little tiny lie instead. And now I feel awful.

Mal sits next to me with his arms crossed and a glare that could melt lead. He's going to absolutely kill me for this.

Professor Kane goes on. "I'm happy to see some new faces today. Can you introduce yourselves to the group?" He smiles and nods in our direction.

I smile sheepishly and wave at the others in the circle. "Hi, I'm North."

"Hi, North," the professor says brightly, even though I take his class twice a week. The rest of the group give a chorus of hi's and then the professor looks at Mal expectantly. Mal doesn't say anything. After a moment of silence the professor prompts, "And this is?"

Malcolm looks like a crowbar couldn't pry his jaw open. There's a long, drawn-out silence.

Professor Kane clears his throat awkwardly. I nudge Mal with my knee as surreptitiously as I can, and finally he replies through gritted teeth.

"Malcolm."

The professor's cheerful smile returns, with a hint of relief. "Hi, Malcolm."