Pirates Are People Too
by Nico Grey
Chapter 3
Jake was relieved when the bus finally ground to a halt at his stop. It had been a long day. And he was hungry. He didn't ordinarily skip lunch, but he simply hadn't been in the mood. He hoped that his mom had left something interesting in the refrigerator.
He was halfway up Oak Street before he realized that, the possibility of something to eat aside, there probably wasn't any more excitement waiting for him at home than he had experienced at school. He was a little relieved to note that the green Subaru was absent from the driveway. At least the stress of dealing with his father's moods might be delayed.
Just before he reached his house, Jake noticed a front door opening several houses down the street. Ish stepped out onto his front porch, basketball in hand, and was looking hopefully in Jake's direction.
Jake took another glance at his house to make sure he couldn't see any activity inside, before he waved at Ish and trotted up the street toward him.
"You're home early, aren't you?" Ish greeted him.
"No cross country practice after school," Jake informed him. "We have a race on Saturday, so the coach is giving us tonight and Friday off. I guess we'll be doing a light workout tomorrow night to get ready for the race, but the rest of our time is our own."
"I thought you'd have to run a lot to stay in shape," Ish wondered.
"We do," Jake said. "I get together with Josiah and some of the guys on the soccer team to run almost every night." That brought him up short. He realized that he hadn't heard about any plans to run later that evening.
"Do you want to play some basketball?" Ish asked. "We can run around this afternoon."
That seemed like a good idea to Jake. He was eager to get to know Ish better. But he hadn't eaten all day.
"I can fix us a snack first," Ish offered. "My mother has falafel in our refrigerator. I'll put some in a pita and heat it in the oven."
Jake must have looked uncertain.
"It's really good!" Ish assured him. "I love it with tahini sauce. It's great with tomato and cucumber, too."
Jake made an effort to smile. He didn't think it would make a good impression if he threw falafel up all over his new friend. He decided it would be polite to try it, keep his fingers crossed, and hope for the best.
Twenty minutes later, Jake pushed his chair back from the Abraham table, patted his stomach, and sighed.
"That was amazing!" he enthused. "I've never had anything like that before, but it was great!"
"My mother likes to cook food that reminds her of home," Ish smiled wistfully. "She really misses Beit She'an." He noticed Jake's confusion. "That's where we used to live when I was little."
"Where is that?" Jake wondered.
"It's a valley in Israel," Ish said. "It's very near the Golan Heights?" He thought that most Americans knew about the Golan Heights, but he wasn't certain.
Jake was impressed. It sounded very exotic.
"Why did you leave?" he asked.
"My mother did it for me," Ish said. "She was born in America. Then she moved with her family to Israel. She grew up there. She was in the IDF. But she got tired of the violence. She didn't want me to have to grow up with that. So she decided to move back to the U. S."
"That sounds so cool." Jake didn't know what else to say, but it did sound cool. "Well, except for all the killing and stuff." He wasn't sure whether an expression of commiseration was appropriate, but he gave it a shot.
"It was," Ish agreed. "I still remember some of my life there. But I'm glad I'm here now," he smiled at his new friend. Jake really appreciated the way that smile lit up his face.
"Do you want more falafel?" Ish offered.
Jake was really tempted. But the snack had already been quite filling. And he knew his mother would wonder if he didn't finish his dinner. So while he eyed the serving dish enthusiastically, Jake had to decline.
"I don't know if I'm going running tonight. But if I do. . ." Jake left the thought unfinished. "It was really good, Ish!"
Ish held up the basketball questioningly. Less than a minute later they were back out in the driveway, bumping shoulders and hips eagerly as each tried to protect the basket or score.
And thirty minutes later, Jake reluctantly announced that he should probably go home and start his homework. He thought that spending too much more time might be trying his luck. His father had to come home sooner or later. And he really did have homework.
"Jake!" Ish interrupted Jake's departure, "If your team doesn't go running tonight, do you want to run with me? Sometimes I run, too."
Jake smiled shyly. "Yeah. I'd like that, Ish."
He hoped that his friends weren't planning to run. He was looking forward to spending more time getting to know Ish. He just wasn't sure it would be a good idea to introduce him to the rest of the guys yet, especially after their drama the previous night.
Jake was a bit disappointed when Josiah called him to ask if he was free that evening. He was less disappointed when Josiah explained that the two of them would be running alone.
Jake wondered for a moment if there was any hidden meaning behind the invitation. But when Josiah explained that he thought it might be better if they focused strictly on running, he brightened.
Jake was still unsure of exactly what Josiah meant. But he trusted Josiah enough to just ask.
"Would it be okay if Ish— he's that new kid that beat up Daniel Hartnett, he lives on my street— could he come running with us? I mean," Jake felt a little awkward trying to explain his thoughts, "he asked me to go running with him tonight. And I think he could probably keep up with us if we don't really push it."
"No funny stuff?" Josiah teased.
"No way!" Jake wasn't sure if Josiah was serious. "I think I've had enough of that for a while."
Jake could hear the smile in Josiah's voice.
"Yeah, Jake. That would be fine. I'd like to get to know anyone that can make Daniel cry!"
"Um," Jake didn't want any miscommunication, "Maybe we shouldn't talk about that with Ish. He says his mom only wants him to do that martial arts stuff if he absolutely has to. It might embarrass him if we make a big deal about it."
Josiah found himself appreciating Jake's sensitivity all over again.
"Of course, Jake. I won't do anything to embarrass your friend."
"So Ian won't be coming?" Jake couldn't resist.
It took a few seconds for Josiah to respond.
"No, Jake. Not tonight. It might be better if we kind of keep that stuff separate from our running for a while."
On reflection, Jake decided that the safest plan would be to wait until after dinner, after his father was thoroughly caught up in explaining his version of 'the world as it should be' to the Fox News anchor, before inviting Ish to join his run with Josiah. He just hoped that Ish could be ready to go on fairly short notice.
He was relieved to find Ish waiting for him on his front porch, already kitted out for a few miles in the woods at a decent pace.
"Looking forward to being back in school tomorrow?" Jake greeted him. He anticipated a scowling response with mild amusement.
Surprisingly, Ish was.
"I like school," he said. "Wherever we live, I always like school."
Jake tried to hurry them past his house, hoping that his father was too busy with the television to notice what was passing by on the street. Fortunately, Jake didn't notice anyone watching them.
They found Josiah waiting for them at the end of Oak Street.
"No sense hanging around alone outside the bakery," he remarked. "People might wonder what I'm doing."
Jake introduced Ish. He and Josiah seemed to connect easily.
Twenty minutes or so later, the three were chatting together comfortably as they cooled down from their run. Josiah found that Ish had no trouble keeping up with him and Jake, even when he elected to push the pace a bit. He had been thinking about that over their final mile.
"Jake and I run almost every night, Ish, if you want to join us."
Ish caught Jake's eye briefly, then nodded. "I'd like to do that. This was fun."
"Sometimes we run with guys from the soccer team, too. But they're good guys," Josiah reassured him. He hoped that Ish would feel the same way.
The possibility didn't appear to faze Ish, so Josiah suggested they end their outing the traditional way, at Maureen's Bakery.
"Aw," Jake interjected, "It's too bad she doesn't make falafel. Ish's mother makes this stuff called falafel. It's absolutely amazing!" he explained.
Ish seemed to appreciate the compliment.
"I can ask her to make some for us sometime. Then we could go to my house after we run," he suggested.
Josiah appreciated the invitation. Jake was almost salivating with anticipation.
Jake stumbled down the stairs to the breakfast table the following morning. His father was waiting for him, his nose buried in the daily paper.
He didn't seem to be in a good mood. But then, the local newspaper was a 'liberal rag', so Jake thought that perhaps that's what was irritating his father.
"Jake."
His father's face appeared from behind the paper. That didn't feel like an encouraging sign to Jake.
"Somebody told me that they saw you with that Ick kid last night, Jake."
Jake elected to wait for more information before deciding how to respond.
"They saw you and another boy with him at the bakery, Jake."
'Busted,' Jake concluded.
"I thought I told you that you shouldn't hang around with him," Jake's father scowled. "What did you think I meant by that?"
Several thoughts ran through Jake's mind. He really didn't like confrontation. And he usually ended up on the losing end of confrontations with his father. But he was determined that he wouldn't just roll over and reject someone he thought was a pretty cool person.
"Josiah took us on a training run, Dad," he evaded. "I think maybe Ish— that's his name, Ishmael— is going to come out for the cross country team." Jake wondered if he might be able to persuade Ish to do that.
"Then maybe you ought to think about joining another team," his father decided.
Jake was frustrated. "I'm running varsity, Dad! In my first year on the team! And I need to run to stay in shape for baseball." He hoped that might be enough to mollify his father.
"I said 'no', Jake! I don't think you should be hanging around with that fanny pirate!"
"He's not a fanny pirate!" Jake felt his anger growing. "He hasn't even looked at my fanny!" Jake found that thought mildly disappointing.
Jake could see his father beginning to get annoyed that his son was arguing with him.
"He comes from Israel, Dad. He and his mother spent years fighting those M-" 'Religion. Wrong angle!' he realized at the last moment. "They fought those Arabs that you're always complaining about." Jake hoped it might be enough.
He could see the intense conflict in his father's face. It looked like he might have an aneurism. "I don't like it, Jake!"
Jake wanted to tell his father what he didn't like. He fought to control his tongue. Anything he said only risked adding fuel to his father's fire.
"You make sure you aren't in the shower with him, Jacob! And if he so much as looks at your fanny, you punch him right in the nose!"
'Yeah,' Jake thought, 'and then he'll break both my arms.'
"I don't know why the school board would ever let a foreign pervert run on the same team with decent American kids. What is the world coming to?"
It was a futile complaint and a familiar closing refrain. Jake breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Jake was relieved again when he mumbled the announcement after dinner that he was going running with Josiah. His father didn't look happy. But he just warned Jake to remember what he had told him that morning.
Jake figured that the warning was probably less explicit than it had been earlier in the day because his father didn't want to be talking to Jake about showers and what might happen there in front of his mother. Jake wasn't concerned. His objective was to go running with Ish. He'd be coming home to shower after they ran. So unless Ish invited him to share the hot water at his house, his father would have no cause for serious concern.
When Josiah met them, he was alone again. He didn't offer any explanation in front of Ish, but Jake assumed that Josiah was probably trying to put a chill on the drama that got out of hand earlier in the week. He was just as happy to focus on running. Besides, a smaller group made it easier for him to get better acquainted with Ish.
Josiah pushed the pace a little harder than he had the previous evening. With their first race coming up in less than forty-eight hours, he avoided a really strenuous workout. But it did give him and Jake an opportunity to learn that Ish could maintain a fairly aggressive pace over three miles.
Jake was trying to find a way to ask Ish about joining their cross country team, but Josiah beat him to the punch. He was impressed with the way that Ish had kept up with him and Jake, without any benefit of practice with the team. He thought Ish might be able to help the Ball Mountain squad immediately. And you know what they say about cross country runners. They're always on the lookout for new recruits.
Initially, Ish was dubious about joining a team. He explained that he really wasn't a team sport sort of person. But Josiah and Jake were persuasive.
Eventually, Ish rationalized that he didn't mind running, he understood the benefits of staying in shape, and he knew that he already liked two members of the cross country team. He was the new kid in a small, quiet town. There was probably no real risk in making a few more friends. It might even turn out to be a good thing.
When Jake returned home, he was ebullient. . . even if Ish hadn't suggested that they share his hot water. Water pressure in the village was good. The price of the energy used to heat water wasn't excessive.
Jake realized that he had probably been unrealistically hopeful. He showered in his own bathroom and used his imagination.
Jake's father grumbled a bit over breakfast about Jake's running companion. But Jake put that off to it being the end of the week. His father never liked having to work Friday night into Saturday morning. To him, it felt like he was losing half his weekend, even if he didn't have to return to work again until Monday night.
Jake considered cheering his father up by reminding him that there wouldn't be any training run that evening, with a race scheduled the following day. But before he could open his mouth, it dawned on him that it might be best to say nothing. It wouldn't attract any attention if he just stepped out after dinner, as had become customary.
Maybe he and Ish could just hang out together in the center of the village. Jake wasn't big on fighting. But like any young guy, he was interested in martial arts. He hoped that he could ask Ish to teach him how he managed to subdue Daniel, or at least a few basic moves.
At school, the mood among his friends was unsettled. Two days without their customary evening run had their attention. Even more disturbing, most of the crew wasn't eating at their usual lunch table.
Jake knew that Josiah hadn't been at lunch since Tuesday. Neither had he, for that matter. He had also heard Darius complaining that Mercury was ghosting them. So when he entered the cafeteria, Jake wasn't surprised to see Ian and Darius eating alone at their table.
For a moment, he considered joining them, then realized that he really wasn't in the mood for any drama. He glanced around the lunch room and noticed Ish sitting near a handful of smaller kids in one corner of the cafeteria.
It didn't look to Jake like he would be interrupting any deep conversation, so he strolled over and asked if Ish minded having company. It crossed his mind to wonder if anyone else in the room might report to his father that Jake had lunch with Ish, but he decided that he was happy to take that risk. He could always come up with some cross-country-related excuse, if confronted over the 'transgression'.
The other freshman boys at the table appeared wary of the 'upperclassman' eating with them, even if most of them were taller than Jake. Jake didn't really mind. It meant fewer interruptions of the conversation he and Ish were having.
Jake didn't probe much, beyond a few questions about life in Israel when the opportunity to ask emerged naturally in their conversation. Most of their discussion was about Ball Mountain and Ish's adjustment to life in his new school. Ish never used words like "bucolic", "backward", or "dull", but Jake read between the lines that Ish found BMUHS a lot quieter than his school in Connecticut. He also got the impression that the change, while necessitating some adjustment, wasn't displeasing to Ish.
Jake did try to subtly sound Ish out to see if he had any second thoughts about his decision to join the cross country team. He was happy to discover that, once the decision was made, Ish was the kind of person that would see his commitment through. From the way Ish was smiling as he maintained eye contact, Jake got the impression that he was starting to look forward to it.
Jake was exhausted but elated as he lay splayed across his bed late Saturday afternoon. He was exhausted from a grueling three-point-one mile race over the rough terrain and through the woods surrounding Ball Mountain Union High School. He was elated because his team had won and because he managed to run sixth for his team. And he was particularly happy that Ish had been on hand to support him and Josiah, even if he hadn't officially joined the team yet.
Jake was sure that he would do better as the season progressed. He even had dreams of running third or fourth for the team by the time of the state championship at the end of the season. But he was satisfied that he had finished a strong sixth among the seven Ball Mountain harriers that participated in the race. He had secured his spot on the Black Bear varsity squad. He thought that just maybe Ish would eventually find a spot on the varsity, too, and that he, Jake and Josiah would become a formidable team as the season progressed.
Jake also secretly thought that they all would look pretty good together in the school cross country uniform. He wasn't so fond of his baseball team's uniform, with the team's black and tan colors and the letters "BM" on the cap. But the black running shorts and tan singlet, with a simple black bend and bear logo on the front, looked pretty cool, in his opinion.
Josiah wasn't feeling quite as positive as he relaxed at home Saturday night. Sure, the cross country team had won their first meet of the season. And sure, he had finished in first place by a comfortable margin. But he understood that he had to do something to figure out where he and Ian stood before they returned to school on Monday.
In some ways, it had been relaxing to take a break from Ian's effervescent energy and from the drama that had surrounded him recently. Focusing on his studies, his running, and his limited social contact with Jake, and now Ish, felt comfortable to Josiah. It was a familiar reminder of his past.
But Josiah understood that he had taken on responsibilities when he assumed unofficial leadership of the mixed team of runners and soccer athletes in their daily runs. He understood that he had made a commitment to Mr. Fisher and to the soccer team. He understood that Mr. Harding and some of the teachers had started to view him differently and treat him more like an adult. He understood that he was growing up— his high school graduation was now less than two years away!— and that he needed to be preparing himself for these sorts of adult responsibilities. And most of all, he missed Ian.
He missed Ian. And he knew that it wasn't fair to Ian to just slide back into his more comfortable previous existence without making a serious effort to communicate with him and to see how they both felt about moving forward together. If Ian didn't care, or if he didn't care enough to communicate, and to make some adjustments, then Josiah could look forward to going back to his comfortable 'oatmeal' existence. But if Ian did care enough to work through the differences that divided them, Josiah owed it to him to meet him halfway. . . and perhaps a little farther than halfway. After all, he was the older and more mature of the two of them.
He thought about how best to reach out. After three days of complete silence, he decided that just picking up the phone or showing up at Ian's front door would be presumptuous. He needed something that would gently reopen communication, and perhaps feel out Ian's mood a little.
Josiah thought that a short text would probably work best. He hoped that Ian wouldn't find it too impersonal.
"Missing you. . ."
It seemed like a good start. Brief, not intrusive, but sincere.
He waited.
Six minutes and thirty-seven seconds passed.
"What do you miss about me?"
It didn't give much away, Josiah concluded. But at least there was no eggplant emoji.
"Being with you."
That seemed like another short and sincere offering.
Almost ten minutes passed.
"Then why aren't you?"
Josiah sighed.
"We got off course, Ian. We needed some time to think. . . at least I did."
He waited another minute, then decided that some clarification might help.
"I wanted to get through my first race, then focus on us."
"Was it a good race?"
The reply only took twenty seconds. Josiah found that encouraging.
"I thought so. We won."
"I know."
"Who told you?" Josiah wondered.
"I was there."
"I didn't see you."
The next response took longer.
"I wasn't sure you wanted me to be there."
Josiah took some time with his next reply.
"I always want you to be there, Ian. Even when I'm too dumb to tell you that."
Josiah could almost feel the surge in Ian's emotions as he waited for a reply. He decided to take another step.
"Can we meet?"
Seconds later, "Where?"
"Maureen's?"
"Somewhere more private? Please?"
That was encouraging.
Josiah and Ian walked together in silence, headed south from Ian's house, along Route 42. They waited to speak until they had turned off the main road and onto a narrow trail through the surrounding trees. Once they were a few hundred feet down the trail, they slipped into a secluded glade.
Ian was reluctant to take the first step; perhaps afraid of a misstep, Josiah surmised. He squared up to face Ian and held out his hands in invitation. He barely had time to brace himself before Ian attempted to devour him.
Josiah held on, gently rubbing Ian's back, as he tried to calm him down.
"Easy," He spoke soothingly. "Easy, Ian. We can take our time. Everything will be okay. I'm always going to love you."
Josiah was glad he thought to stuff a handful of Kleenex into his pocket before he left home. He had never seen Ian more emotional.
The conversation that followed still wasn't easy. Josiah and Ian had renewed their commitment to each other. There was still a gap to bridge in their perspective on recent events.
"Why was what Jake and I did so bad?" Ian wondered.
Josiah tried to reassure him. 'Bad' was a poor choice of words. What worked for Ian hadn't worked for everyone there, including Jake.
"Why didn't it work for Jake? He got off!"
Josiah tried to explain. Jake had been sexually excited by his encounter with Ian. He had an orgasm. But while his body felt good enough to have an orgasm, there were a lot of things about the experience that upset Jake.
"You and I don't have much sexual experience, Ian. But Jake has a lot less experience than we do. When I kissed him Tuesday, that was his first real kiss. Before he even had time to really think about that kiss, barely twenty-four hours later, his shorts were down around his ankles, his dick was rock hard and completely exposed, and he shot his load in front of a live audience." Josiah paused briefly to reinforce his final point. "It was a pretty freaky experience for him, even if it did make his body feel good enough to have an orgasm."
Ian struggled with the concept. "What's freaky about it? I don't care if all the guys watch me shoot."
"You're you, Ian. Jake isn't you. He feels different about things. And he isn't as confident as you are. Like, he probably worries about what the others there thought of seeing his penis. Or about watching him shoot off." Josiah tried to think of something that would bring the point home to Ian. "Would you have been willing to let all the guys watch you shoot your load last year?"
Josiah didn't need to wait for a response. He saw the horrified look in Ian's eyes.
"But I was bald last year. And tiny!" Ian cringed at the recollection. "I don't think I even started shooting until just before Christmas!"
"Jake probably feels about the same way you did. . ." Josiah wondered if maybe he wasn't going too far, "when Daniel and Russ cornered you in the bathroom last winter," he watched Ian carefully, hoping the memory wouldn't do too much harm.
"I mean, Jake wasn't telling you 'no'. But what he thought he was saying 'yes' to was another kiss." He decided that rubbing it in a little more wouldn't hurt if it bolstered Ian's ego. "A kiss this time with the boy he loved for months. He got a little more than that."
Josiah watched Ian sympathetically as the realization fully dawned on him. When he noticed the lost look in his eyes, he softened the blow.
"We all made mistakes, Ian. I should never have offered to kiss Jake. I thought you were being a little hard on him at lunch Monday with the comments about his height— and stuff," Josiah cocked an eyebrow to remind Ian, "so I reminded him of your suggestion that he kiss me. I was only trying to get your attention, maybe to send you a message, but I read that all wrong. And then we all made mistakes— misinterpreted what our friends were thinking and feeling— after that. None of us meant to hurt anyone. But we all played a role, and things just got out of hand."
Ian was shaking his head. "I just didn't understand why Jake wouldn't enjoy sex."
"You were playing with his butt," Josiah reminded him.
"But it feels good!"
"I guess it does," Josiah agreed. "But it feels good when it happens in the right place. And at the right time. When it surprises you, and you're surrounded by almost a dozen people watching it happen to you. . ." Josiah let the thought trail off. He struggled to express what he was feeling. "Sex is best when it comes at its own pace. When both the people involved decide that they're ready.
"I think it should be more than 'Wham! Bam! Thank you, Jake. And which one of us shot that hole in the wall over there?' It should be about love," Josiah explained. "That feels a lot better than just busting a nut."
Ian's head snapped around and he giggled. "Busting a nut?"
"It's an expression," Josiah was secretly pleased that he was able to share something new with his more sexually adventurous boyfriend.
"It sounds more like an injury," Ian observed.
"Whatever," Josiah agreed. "Getting your rocks off is nothing special. Any guy can do it alone. All he needs is a little privacy— or at least most of us do!" he added, casting a leery eye in Ian's direction.
"I want more than that for us. I always want for us to make love to each other."
Ian gave him a testing look. Some of the old mischief was starting to return to his eye. "Is that why you won't do that thing you won't even let me say?"
"We'll do it when we're ready, Ian."
"I'm ready now!" Ian whined. But he was watching Josiah with an amused gleam in his eyes.
"And I'll be ready too, Ian. Maybe in a year. Maybe two. We'll get there when the time is right, whether that's in five minutes or in five years."
"Five minutes?"
"Or five years!"
Ian rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He looked back at Josiah suddenly. "Is the time right now?"
Josiah groaned. He led the way out of the glade.
"What about now?" Ian asked.
He was shocked when Josiah took his hand and led him back into the trees.
"Are we really doing it now?" Ian wondered.
"We're doing something now," Josiah announced between gritted teeth.
"Is it the thing-that-shall-not-be-named?" Ian started bouncing with anticipation.
Josiah lifted Ian's shirt off over his head. Then he unbuckled his belt and unfastened the button and zipper on his jeans. He pulled Ian's pants and underwear down to the ground in one smooth motion.
Josiah knelt in front of his boyfriend and inspected what Ian was eagerly offering. He wet a finger in his mouth thoroughly before leaning forward, opening his mouth, and reaching around to take firm hold of Ian's cheeks.
"This is only because I love you," Josiah growled.
Less than a minute later, Ian shrieked. But it sounded an awful lot like he was enjoying himself. It really did. . .
"Makeup sex is incredible," Ian opined to the crew surrounding him at their lunch table. He glanced at Josiah to make sure that he wasn't taking the discussion a little too far. "I think I might have died and then come back to life!"
"Whatever, Ian," Darius snorted. "We just appreciate the sacrifices you're willing to make to get Josiah back to practice with the rest of the team."
Josiah groaned inwardly, but he resisted the urge to tighten the rein too much on Ian. He just hoped the conversation wasn't corrupting Ish too much. The freshman did appear to have a rather sophisticated attitude for someone so young. But Josiah worried about what might be going on inside his head.
"Just keep it dialed down to a 'three' for a while," he had suggested to Ian while they discussed how to best heal any damage their recent excesses had caused to their friends, and to make sure the group maintained an even keel for a while. Ian had offered to dial his exuberance back to a 'one', but Josiah didn't think for a minute that would even be possible.
"So what did Josiah do to you after you ravished him with your 'powerful ten inches'?" Darius prodded.
Josiah groaned aloud.
"Whoa!" Darius' eyes shot open. "It must have been something really special!"
"Darius," Josiah wasn't quite sure what to say next. He was used to keeping Ian's impulses in check. Managing Darius was rather new territory. "We're trying to keep personal stuff 'personal', if you know what I mean!"
"Don't worry about it, bro," Ian assured Darius, "I'll give you all the sweaty and sticky details later."
Josiah noticed that Mercury was starting to look uncomfortable.
"Seriously, guys," Josiah insisted. "Enough of the personal talk. Remember. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."
"But what happens in Ian, doesn't always stay in Ian," Ian quipped, before realizing that this time he probably had gone too far. "I'm sorry. Really, I am," he held out both hands, "I'll go to the vice principal's office and say. . . What kind of prayers do you say for penance?" he wondered.
That question drew a lot of blank looks from around their table.
"Maybe just apologize and promise that it won't happen again," Jake suggested uncertainly. "Sometimes we just have to try harder to think about the people around us and how they feel. I know I'm sorry if I said or did anything that upset anyone. I didn't know I was doing it. But if I did something, please tell me and I'll try my best to never do it again."
Josiah was amused to note that Ish appeared to be paying close attention to Jake's speech. He was following Jake's words intently and nodding appreciatively.
Fortunately, the moment of introspection helped to restore some calm to their table. Talk turned to the soccer match scheduled for the following afternoon, then to the performance of the BMUHS cross country team over the previous weekend.
Ian produced a copy of the local paper, with a news report on the race that featured a photo of Josiah crossing the finish line. He teased Josiah about the sweaty image and a flicker in his eye hinted that he was still eager to share the story of their "sweaty and sticky" makeup sex.
Josiah was relieved when Jake took control of the conversation.
"That is so cool!" he exclaimed. "You ran great. And those uniforms look so good, too. I love the black shorts and tan tops!"
Ian shrugged. "I think they'd look better with tan shorts and black tops." He leaned toward Ish confidentially, "They should listen to me. I'm the gay guy here."
Jake groaned. "With tan shorts, at a distance it might look like we were running naked!"
"See what I mean?" Ian leered. "You know, I think I might just join the cross country team!"
Darius was amused. "Are you sure you want to be on the cross country team, Ish? If Ian gets his way, it might look like you guys were running around bare-assed."
Ish took it in stride. "That sounds like it could be fun."
He glanced at Jake to check his reaction. Jake just blushed. It seemed that it might be a while before his color returned to normal.
Jake was excited to find Ish already on the track and stretching before the cross country team started practice after school.
One of the reasons that Jake had decided to join the cross country team was for the social interaction with Josiah. But Josiah rarely attended team practices after school. It was more important for him to spend that time practicing with the soccer team.
Jake and Ish warmed up together, chatting occasionally, while they waited for their coach to reveal what torture he would inflict on the squad that day. Before Jake joined the team, he hadn't realized how structured training could be.
Jake had assumed that cross country meant that you just laced up your trainers and ran. Interval training had disabused him of that notion. Incline training on hills and stairs was another kick in the butt. Strength training, mobility drills, nutrition, and spending a lot more time on running form than seemed sane, just reinforced the message that long distance running at BMUHS was serious business.
Josiah had also warned Jake that fartlek training would probably be incorporated into their regimen within the next few weeks. He didn't even want to know what "fartlek" meant!
Jake was looking forward to the idea of mentoring a new runner, sharing with Ish what he had learned during his five weeks practicing with the team. It was another way to get to know his new friend and, Jake concluded, might also help keep himself motivated through some of the more tedious aspects of training.
Fortunately, Coach Miller was in a good mood. Apparently the team's victory over the weekend had satisfied him with their progress. Or, Jake speculated, maybe he was just trying to get the team to lower its guard so he could really hammer them on Tuesday!
The coach suggested that Jake take Ish on an easy run around the athletic field.
"Four laps will be just under three miles. Do you think Ish can maintain an eight-minute-mile pace that far?" he asked Jake.
Jake was pretty sure he could. Josiah generally set a seven-and-a-half minute pace for their training runs through the woods. They had even run a bit faster on Friday.
"When you guys finish that," the coach eyed Jake appraisingly, "I want you to do some interval training on the track. Jog three quarters of a lap, then sprint the final hundred. I want you to do eight laps. Show Ish how it's done. I'll have him join in next week, or once I see that his fitness level is adequate. Then finish up with another easy lap around the field for both of you."
Jake groaned inwardly. Almost six miles, including two miles of intervals, was more work than the coach had given the rest of the squad. He hoped that Josiah would set an easy pace for their training run that evening.
Jake wasn't surprised that Ish had no trouble with four easy laps around the field. He was surprised when Ish elected to join him for the interval training and stayed reasonably close to him throughout. When Ish challenged him to sprint the final quarter of their closing lap around the athletic field, Jake was starting to worry that he wouldn't be having any Mr. Miyagi moments with Ish.
In the shower at the end of practice — where Jake was really praying that his father wouldn't have any informants — he couldn't resist subtly checking Ish out. Actually, he realized, there was probably no need for subtlety. Ish seemed perfectly comfortable in the shower and didn't appear to mind at all when he noticed Jake glancing in his direction.
Jake was surprised. He could still recall how much he hated to shower after gym class before his body finally started to develop. And clearly, Ish was still swimming in the kiddy pool. But, Jake supposed, lack of physical development probably didn't matter that much when you know you can kick the butt of anyone foolish enough to say anything about it.
Walking together, after the late bus dropped them off at the end of their street, Jake was happy to see that the green Subaru wasn't in his driveway.
Ish stopped walking when they arrived in front of Jake's house. For the first time that Jake could recall, Ish seemed somewhat uncomfortable.
"I have a question, Jake."
Jake felt sudden alarm. He hoped that Ish wasn't going to say anything about Jake checking him out in the shower. He could feel tension growing in his neck and shoulders.
"Is your friend Ian really gay?" Ish turned his gaze back down the street. "Or was he just joking around at lunch today?"
Jake hadn't been expecting that question. He could feel relief rising all the way up from the soles of his feet. But he wondered how best to answer.
"I can't say for certain, Ish," Jake congratulated himself on what he thought was an effective evasion. "I mean, I don't think he would joke about a sensitive subject like that. . ." he trailed off, uncertain what he should say next.
"Oh," Ish seemed disappointed. "I wasn't sure."
He took more time to think.
"Would it bother you if he was?" Ish turned to face Jake again.
"Of course not!" Jake insisted. "I've known Ian for years. He's one of my best friends!" Jake wanted to say more. . . without saying too much. "Even if Ian wanted to do stuff like that with me," he blushed, "maybe I'd let him."
'Too much,' he winced. 'Too, too, too much!'
But Ish's expression brightened. "I can already tell that you are a good person, Jake. But you must be a very, very good friend!"
Jake pulse began to quicken. Then his heart almost jumped straight out of his chest! A car horn blared right next to him as the green Subaru pulled into their driveway.
"Jacob Edward Warren! Get in the house! Right now!" Jake's father ordered before he was even out of the car.
Jake glanced apologetically toward Ish. But Ish had already turned away and was scurrying up the street toward his own home.
"Jacob!" his father repeated. "I want you inside right now!"
Jake tried to avoid his father once he was inside the house. But his father wasn't through with him yet.
"Your hair is wet, Jacob," he pointed out. "And that Ick kid's hair was wet, too! What did I tell you about keeping him away from you in the shower?"
Jake did his best to look offended. He hoped that it was a very different look from 'guilty'.
"We had practice after school today. We ran. Ish did really well. And then we each went to our lockers after practice." Jack was pretty sure there was no need to explain that their lockers were less than ten feet apart.
"I didn't see him looking at my fanny." He really hadn't, Jake realized with some disappointment. "You told me to punch him in the face if I did!"
Jake mentally checked back through his defense. He was pretty sure he hadn't told any lies. And he also thought it should leave the impression that he hadn't disobeyed his father. For about a second, Jake wondered if he might have a career in politics in his future.
"Well, you still don't have to talk to someone like that right in front of our house," his father complained.
"Ish is a good runner. He's a good person, too. He's my teammate. If he asks me a question, I'm not going to be rude to him!" Jake was certain that was about as much defiance as he could possibly hope to get away with. He prayed that it wasn't too much.
His father turned away, shaking his head, and started rummaging through the refrigerator for a beer. "What is the world coming to?" he grumbled.
Jake was relieved to escape up the stairs and his bedroom. But he did hope he hadn't provoked his father into drinking too many beers. He still had to go to work later that night.
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