Page 16 of Caught Running

Troy flipped him the bird but moved back to his end of the couch. Brandon grabbed the bag of chips and tossed it against the other teacher’s chest. “Now behave,” he said quietly as Troy stifled a cackle and sat back, a look of childish glee on his face.

“God,” Jake groaned, the tip of the marker just touching the whiteboard before he withdrew his hand again. “You get your cheese rush, I’m going to change,” he muttered dejectedly as he put the marker down and headed up the stairs, stripping off his shirt as he went and using it to wipe at his chest.

Annoyed on Jake’s behalf, Brandon reached and bapped Troy on the back of the head. “I thought you were his friend. Can’t you tell how tired he is? Button it up, Troy.”

“Fuck. If I button it up whenever he’s tired I’d be perpetually buttoned,” Troy muttered, glaring at the biology teacher.

“Cut him some slack, man,” Jonathan said from his spot on the floor. “Or never mind the kids, he’ll be makingourlives hell, too.”

Troy and Jonathan continued to murmur, and Brandon just watched the stairs, remembering the bared chest and back he’d seen, muscles shifting. He pressed his lips together and tookanother long drink, despite the fact this was supposed to be his last beer for the night.

Jake didn’t shower, but just putting on fresh clothes made him feel better as he thumped back down the stairs. He was wearing loose sweats and a worn fraternity T-shirt that fit him like a soft, thin, second skin. Comfort clothes. He brought a T-shirt for each of the others and tossed them in the general direction of the couch as he grabbed up his beer again.

“Okay,” he huffed, picking up the marker. “Have we settled down?” he asked them in a tired voice as Troy stripped off his Under Armour and slid comfortably into Jake’s T-shirt. Jonathan took the shirt, but merely folded it back up and laid it aside. Apparently the slighter man was either comfortable in his Under Armour or he knew he’d look like a five year old in his dad’s clothes if he wore Jake’s shirt.

Brandon held up the shirt Jake had thrown at him. ‘Co-ed Naked Wrestling: The Mat Is Where It’s At’.Quaint.He half-smiled and pulled off the jersey as Troy murmured an apology to Jake. Next went the Under Armour, and Brandon was surprised at the cool air that hit his skin. He hadn’t realized he’d been so warm in the uniform. Just cooling off, he sat there holding the T-shirt, listening with half an ear as Troy promised to sit back and try to act at least half his age.

Jake turned around to say something and stopped short, his eyes catching Brandon’s bare chest. He blinked and looked away quickly, staring at the whiteboard for a minute as he tried not to flush. God, this was just getting worse and worse. Without a word he began to write the last names of boys who had tried out for baseball. All sixty of them, from memory. In alphabetical order. By grade.

The science teacher took a moment to yawn and stretch the kinks out of his back before he pulled on the T-shirt, surprised to find it actually fit well over his frame. It had that well-wornfeel of a favorite. He smoothed his hand over the lurid words and stifled a chuckle.

“We’ve got twenty-two freshmen,” Jonathan said to Jake as he settled on the floor with his back against the couch. “At least five need to go.”

“Fifteen seniors,” Jake replied with a nod. “God, the juniors are going to be murdered,” he murmured with a wince as he began the next line of names. He stood for a moment, tallying the count. They could take twenty on varsity, no more. And that was really pushing the limit. “Somebody get the book, we’re going to have to look at their birth dates and not their grade levels. And the stats from last year. Christ,” he murmured to himself as he rubbed his neck.

“This is going to slaughter my team. And yours next year,” Troy said, his voice finally sobering. “Juniors will be ticked if they’re left out this year, and some might bail. Maybe even transfer to Berkmar to get playing time to prep for college.”

Brandon shifted and nabbed Jake’s bag, dragging it over to his feet and fishing out the book the other coach asked for. He opened it up to the bio pages and glanced up to the head coach. “Want me to just read them off?”

“Hold on, hold on,” Jake murmured as he shook his head. He rubbed the back of his neck and frowned at the names on the board. “God, this is gonna be okay. We do it purely by skill first run. Narrow it down to twenty each. Then we go from there, okay? I don’t care what grade they are, they deserve varsity if they get it first run. Then we tinker,” he said, turning to look at the other three for confirmation.

The science teacher shrugged, glancing to Troy and Jonathan as they both nodded. Brandon sat back, putting his feet up on the coffee table and crossing them at the ankles. It was going to be a long night.

Jake nodded and turned back to the whiteboard, going down the list of names and checking the kids who were definite varsity material. He crossed out the definite freshman cuts, a few kids who just weren’t meant to be playing for one reason or another, and then he stepped back.

He had fourteen varsity marked, five of whom were juniors. He sighed and glanced back for guidance. Troy shrugged and nodded. “Cutting seniors?” he asked dubiously.

“Some of them got outplayed,” Jake murmured with a slight frown. “And that little Garner bastard needs to be stuck in a tree until he ripens somewhere,” he added as he crossed out the kid’s name with a vengeance.

“You might consider cutting Garrett,” Brandon suggested quietly, naming a senior who’d been on varsity last year. Not a stellar player, not a star, but usually solid.

“Cutting?” Jake asked seriously, not even blinking at the fact that he was asking advice from the science teacher.

“Yes. He’s at practice everyday, and he plays, but his heart’s not in it. He daydreams when you’re looking the other way. I also heard...” Brandon stopped talking, not sure if they’d want to know information that didn’t have to do with baseball.

“Go on,” Jake invited with a nod.

“I heard he asked Rachel Richards to marry him over Christmas break. Rumor is she’s pregnant and he’s over the moon about it.”

Jake stared at the man for a moment and then groaned, rolling his eyes as he cracked his neck and went back to the whiteboard. “Good luck with that one, kiddo,” he murmured, crossing off the name.

Brandon shrugged. “Clark might be a problem, too. Not with a girl. With grades. Marty told me in the lounge today he’s looking to drop out and join the Army.”

“He does like to kill things,” Troy muttered with a little snicker.

“Yeah, we had to warn him last year not to hold his bat like a gun in batting practice,” Jake muttered as he crossed the name off the list.

Jonathan had been quiet to this point, and he piped up with a question totally off-topic. “Who gets locker room duty this year? Are we splitting it up?”

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