Down by Contact (The Barons 2)
Page 17
Sighing the sigh of a prima donna, I flopped back on my bed. It was dark in my room, with music playing quietly, but I was nowhere close to tired. In fact, I was amped up and horny. Sex was an outlet for me in more ways than one, and I was antsy from not getting my fix. Finding someone to hook up with wasn’t the problem. That was the easy part. But ever since my nightclub mishap the previous year, I’d been a lot more . . . reluctant to pick up any old random. I was out as a gay man now, but that didn’t mean I wanted my personal life scrutinized or more sex tapes secretly recorded and sent to the media.
“Fuck life,” I muttered, shifting on the bed.
After a few minutes of rolling around and punching pillows, I grabbed my phone and navigated to Grindr. My thumb hovered over the icon as I gnawed on my lower lip. A text message popped up before I could click on it.
Adrián.
Adrián: Yo. I’m bringing my Xbox and Madden tomm.
My mouth twitched. The hell was he up to now?
Simeon: You gonna do that while I watch these kids work in groups to make their own plays??
Adrián: No, stupid ass. I figured it’d be easier for them to make plays if they spend a while taking turns using the playbooks and formations in Madden’s practice mode. Dig?
Simeon: Whoa, are you like . . . smart or something?
Adrián: Fucker, you gots no clue how many intelligences are in my brain.
Simeon: lmfao I take it back already
Adrián: [crying laughing emoji] Aiight, bet. Glad I have his majesty Golden QB’s permission. I might swing by GameStop before they close and pick up a few more games and systems so they can work in groups of three.
Simeon: I’ll chip in
Adrián: Keep your dollars, fool. I’m not strapped.
Simeon: Still tho
Adrián: Shut up. Save the dough for a date. Your tense ass needs some loosening up.
What the hell? How had this kid tuned in to me needing to get off? Like yesterday.
Simeon: How you know it’s my ass that gets loose?
Adrián: LOL bro. You got a face gangbang in a club bathroom . . . while sober. No offense but that is the sign of someone who likes to get plowed. JS
Simeon: Heh.
Adrián: “Heh”? That’s all you got? I guess you gave up on our game of chicken. I expected oversharing details about your gay sex life.
Simeon: I started to go there but TBH nothing makes me call uncle and get nervous faster than the idea of someone having pics of me or in this case screen caps to make me look bad in the media.
There was such an extended silence that I expected him to not reply.
Adrián: Wow, son. I know I said a lot of shit like a dumbass, but I’m not trying to entrap your ass.
Simeon: I didn’t say you were. You could say I have trust issues [[SMILEY FACE]] Which is why I ain’t been laid.
Adrián: Oh. Gotcha . . .
Simeon: Yuppppp.
Adrián: Well . . . in that case, I guess we can finish that convo in person. ;)
Simeon: WTF. Do you WANT me to win? Lmao you have no idea the details I can unload on you, man. I will go in.
Adrián: Try me! You can’t make me uncomfortable, dude. Do your worst.
Simeon: We’ll see.
With a shake of my head, I plugged my phone into its charger and looked at the ceiling again. This time, instead of obsessing over my sexual frustration, I planned on what I’d say to make Adrián Bravo lose his cool.
Adrián
Delilah was a born quarterback.
I’d been doing my best to not assign them permanent positions in my head, especially since they all thought being the quarterback was the coolest thing ever (insert eye roll), but it was hard. The girl was a natural.
Every time we rotated the kids, the combination of her speed, reflexes, and killer arm had both me and Simeon flipping out. It was hard not to whoop with excitement and show a measure of favoritism, because damn. Between her and Jory, whose lean body and long legs made him a prime running back, they made a killer team.
“What grade are these kids in?”
“I dunno.” Simeon squinted down the field with his hands on his hips. He was concentrating hard, and all the kids were doing at the moment was practicing passing. I could tell Delilah was bored out of her mind, but she was a good sport about it. “They’re like twelve and thirteen, right?”
“Yup.”
“I dunno.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, what grade were you in when you were twelve? I can’t remember worth a damn. Starting to think Yaritza is right about those concussions.”
Simeon scratched at his brace absently, gaze tracking our pupils. That kind of focus was enviable, since I’d never possessed it. Whether it was in school or in social situations, I darted all over the place, doing before thinking and constantly getting in hot water as a result. The only time I could cancel out all the white noise and distractions, and make a decision that would benefit everyone around me, was on the field.