Chapter 2: Don’t Worry, It’s Still Early Days

“Hey man, shake it off.” Said Taylor a few hours after their latest game.

“Don’t talk to me for a sec. I just need some time.” Said an irritated Brandon, shaking his head as if to ward off a pesky fly.

The two teammates ate in silence at the end of the cafeteria a short ways away from the rest of the team. They had lost yet another game. This time to a much easier opponent.
Their coach had laid into the team something fierce. Even more than Taylor thought, as it was only their third game. Still, at 1-2 on the season, it was always too soon to start losing.

Brandon winced as he flexed his fingers and picked up his burger, munching it angrily. Taylor always thought that he kind of looked cute, taking out his frustrations on food like that…

“What did the trainers say about the hand,” said Taylor trying to act casual.

Brandon flexed his fingers again, holding them up so that the muscles of his forearm bulged with hidden strength. “They said it may only be a small sprain-strain, but that I shouldn’t have to miss game time. Coach wants me to take a few days off and let it heal up.”

Taylor nodded. Being the back-up quarterback, this was a real moment for him to prove to the coaches that he could hold his own and possibly get to start a game this season, instead of filling in every time that Brandon went down.

Brandon could see the wheels turning, “But hey – don’t think that you’ll be starting off against Penn Tech next week,” he joked flexing his biceps in a mock-menacing way.
“I surrender, I surrender,” said Taylor throwing his hands up innocently.

The two ate in silence and conversed with some of their fellow teammates as they all lunched and munched.

“Say, you want this pudding cup? I’m full and I really don’t like butterscotch.” Said Taylor, sliding the dessert over to Brendon with his knife before the later could answer.

“Your loss,” he said, tearing open a tab and squeezing the contents into his open mouth. A few gulps and the container was empty.
He crinkled it and threw towards Taylor who watched it land with a clunk into the bottom of his emptied soda cup.

“Swish, still got it,” said Brandon flashing a winning smile.

“Pfft. What a lucky shot,” scoffed Taylor who removed the contents and lobbed it back over to Brandon,

“I bet you can’t do it again.”

Brandon made the shot a second time.

Taylor looked up at the clock on the main wall of the cafeteria. They would have to head to class soon. “Another lucky shot.”

“Want to bet on me sinking it again, three for three?” said Brandon, flexing his hand – the damn thing looked like it was moving better already.

“I’m betting against you again,” chided Taylor, who subtly slid his knife under the food tray so as to innocently disturb the angle.

Brandon missed.

“Oooooh,” said Taylor in a mocking tone, “big bad QB isn’t so perfect today, is he.”

“Too bad,” he said, standing up and making to head out for his next class, “you should have wagered a bet.”

“Maybe I still can,” said Taylor, his eyes flicking down to Brandon’s waist innocently.
Reflexively, Brandon quarter turned his lower half and smiled roguishly.

Taylor said nothing but raised an eyebrow.

“Not now, we’ve got class,” said Brandon quickly.

But Taylor knew that he had peaked his teammates interest.

“Suit yourself,” he said noncommittally making a phallic motion in the air as he made to grab his tray also. This made Brandon laugh, despite himself.

The two made their way to the end of the cafeteria line where dirty dishes and food scraps go. Brandon was first and made to deposit his tray, his shirt swishing slightly.
But was it Taylor’s imagination, or did Brandon’s stomach pooch out a little bit. He smiled inwardly to himself – that would be something that he would check out personally later that evening.