Rules of Play (The Script Club 2)

Odd boy…our George. One minute he was cool, sharp, and edgy; the next, he was geeking out with contraband reading material.

George was the only person I knew who’d bring a book to a baseball game. I didn’t think twice about it, though. He’d always been that way. Whenever his parents had dragged him to our high school baseball games, I’d spot George reading in the bleachers with a cape around his neck, tucked close to his mom.

I remembered a teammate asking Ben why his brother was a freak once. Big mistake. Ben had pounced with his fist cocked…and I’d been close behind, ready to go to battle as if the inclination were somehow programmed in me. The kid had backed down immediately and normal conversation returned. But the surge of protectiveness I’d felt for George had struck me as weird even at fourteen or fifteen.

And here I was again.

He needed me less now than ever, but I was so fucking drawn to him. I didn’t get it.

I shook the thought aside as I hiked up the stairs to the last row. I sidestepped my way toward him, bumping knees and annoying the hell out of everyone around me. I wasn’t a small dude, so it took a bit of effort. Thankfully, there was ample open space next to George.

“Heads up, G,” I called, handing over a tray. “I have dinner. And to continue your weeklong tradition, I present you with…a fucking hot dog. F for Friday.”

“Ha. Very clever.” He slipped his book in his bag and thanked me as he unwrapped his hot dog.

“I didn’t know what you liked on it, so I left it plain. There are a ton of condiments in the tray.”

“Thanks, but I like it plain.”

“Plain ol’ hot dog? Gross.” I twitched my nose in distaste, then pointed at his tote bag. “What are you reading?”

“The Awakening by Kate Chopin. It’s one of those classics I remember loving in high school.”

“A classic read from high school? Oh, G…those were the worst. My English lit teacher had a thing for Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet triggers me to this day,” I groused, chomping into my hot dog.

George chuckled. “What’s wrong with Romeo and Juliet?”

“Probably nothing. My teenage self couldn’t relate to all that drama over a girl. Plus the language was way too fancy and the ending sucked. Spoiler alert…everyone dies.”

“You’re hopeless,” he snorted. “Not every story has a happy ending.”

“That’s why you should watch baseball. One team goes home a loser, but they get to try again the next day. And the day after that.”

“So you like second chances and happy endings…” He nudged my knee playfully. “That’s kind of romantic.”

I flipped him off from behind my soda cup. “How does The Awakening rank on the happy meter?”

“Very low. But I thought it might offer insight into our situation since you’re going through a bi-awakening.”

“I am?”

“Yes, or at least an exploratory phase.”

“Hmm.” I furrowed my brow and studied the action on the field. “You know, I finally gave in and googled bisexuality. I think I might just be gay for you.”

“That’s sweet, but it’s not a thing.”

“You don’t think someone can be gay for one person in particular?”

“No, I don’t. I could be wrong, but I think it’s more likely that I’m the first guy to spark interest for you. Sometimes it happens later in life,” he reported sagely.

“How old were you when you figured out you were bi?”

“Ten.”

“Ten?” I repeated incredulously. “Dude, I was deep into Pokémon when I hit double digits. I wasn’t even remotely interested in knowing anything about sex then.”

“Neither was I. Being gay, bi, or straight isn’t all about sex, dummy. It’s just…attraction. I didn’t act on my attraction for either sex for a few years, though. When I did, it was guys sometimes, girls other times. There was no real thought behind it. I went with what felt good. Nowadays, I gravitate to men more than women. I don’t think about it, and I don’t think it means anything special. It’s just how I’m wired.”

“Well, for the record, you’re the only guy I’ve ever thought was hot,” I admitted.

George froze mid-bite, then smiled. “Really?”

“Yeah, but don’t let it go to your head.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He set his hot dog in the tray, chewing silently for a moment. “Did you learn anything else in your bi research?”

I glanced around to be sure we couldn’t be overheard before leaning against his side.

“How to give a blowjob, how to finger your partner’s ass, how to finger your own ass, and of course, the best positions for anal. Some of that I already knew, but it was informative. Did I miss anything important?”

He coughed as he reached for his lemonade. “N-no. Great start.”

“Maybe, but I didn’t learn anything I didn’t know. I have a dick and I know what feels good. I’ve also had a lot of experience…sexually speaking. Just not with a man.”