Nine

 

“Oh my God.” Lance stopped walking and stared at JC, who was cheerfully striding towards him.

“Good morning, Lansten.”  He peeked at the novel Lance was reading as he walked. “David Copperfield?”

“My lit class. I think Charles Dickens should be banned from all schools,” Lance griped. He looked JC in the eye.  “What’s up with the tshirt?”

“Oh, that!” JC laughed as he tugged at his “Rainbow Brite” tshirt. “I have to meet Joey to talk about some stuff, and when I talked to him earlier, he was hung over. Since he is particularly sensitive about his sexual orientation when he’s hung over, I thought I’d wear this.”

“You are pure evil.”

“Perfect shirt for a fairy like you,” a tall brunette said as he walked by.  Lance stiffened and shrank back a bit. He didn’t know the speaker, who stopped at looked at JC. “Really, I mean, do you need to advertise it?”

“Maybe I’m an eighties kid at heart and just loved the cartoon,” JC shot back. The guy laughed.

“Hell, no. You’re a fucking queen, aren’t ya?”

“You mean the rainbow patches all over my backpack don’t give it away?” JC asked in mock innocence.

“How about you? You his boyfriend?” The guy asked Lance.

“Yes, he is. And if you’re lucky, we’ll start going at it right here in front of you.” JC threw an arm around Lance’s shoulders. Lance wished the ground would swallow him whole. He still wasn’t very good at dealing with his sexuality in public, for all that he did with the fraternity.

“What’s going on here?” Justin Timberlake walked up and Lance actually shook a little.  “Bruce?”

“I’m offended by this fairy’s shirt, JT,” the guy said.

“Really?” Justin looked at JC and grinned. “I have a shirt just like it, though. Didn’t you see me at practice?”  Bruce blinked as he tried to remember.  “Why are you picking on JC when you have no problem with me?”

“You’re different, dude. You’re a jock. You’re one of us.”

“No, I’m not. I’m not “one of” anyone. I’m me. And I like what I like. You like what you like, and JC like what JC likes. And Lance here…” Justin threw Lance a grin. “No one’s QUITE sure what Lance likes, but he’s entitled to it, whatever it is.  Lay off, Bruce. Let’s go shoot some hoops. I don’t feel like going to class anyway. Later, guys.” Justin clapped his teammate on the arm and led him away before he could say anything else.

“Still hate him?” JC asked Lance, watching Justin walk away.

“Not for the next ten minutes,” Lance said. “That WAS cool of him,” he admitted. “He’s sure not embarrassed about what he is.”

“What IS he, Lance?”

“He’s…a basketball player,” Lance said finally.

“Hey, you two okay?” Chris Kirkpatrick approached them. “I was over on that bench and heard everything.”

“We’re fine,” JC said, blushing.

“I like the shirt. I’m an eighties kid, myself…though I prefer Strawberry Shortcake.”  Chris grinned and bit into his apple.

“JC loves Strawberry Shortcake, don’t you, JC?” Lance asked. JC mumbled something incoherent. “He has a Strawberry Shortcake pencil can, he has a lamp…”

“Ebay,” JC said finally. “I find stuff on Ebay.”

“Cute.” Chris finished his apple and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. “See you in class, JC. Bye, Lance.”

“You just totally embarrassed me!” JC almost yelled at Lance when Chris was out of earshot. Lance laughed.

“Like you’re gonna embarrass Joey. I’m scoring one for him. Later.” Lance picked up his novel and went on down the sidewalk.

 

“Charity.” Matthew looked around the living room of the frat house. All the members as well as the pledges were lounging on the floor.  “We want to make sure you pledges know that we care about how we look. We like doing charity work, because it shows that we want to help the community, not corrupt it.  So, every year, we have the big brothers and little brothers go out and do community service. There’s a signup sheet in the kitchen. You have to agree and go as a team. There are things like working at the Salvation Army, going to the homeless shelters, and volunteering at the youth club downtown. Pick something.”  Matthew looked around. “You’ll be doing it all day on Saturday.” There were a few grumbles. Matthew raised an eyebrow and the room fell silent. “AJ?”

“Okay, so, yeah, after the whole charity day, we’ll have a party here that night. Bring your own bottle, and a date, if you wish.” An excited buzz went around the room. AJ’s eyes fell on Nick Carter, and he sighed sadly.  “And don’t forget…no fraternizing with brothers OR other pledges. It’s a rule.”

“That concludes this meeting.” Matthew tossed down his notebook and everyone began to talk. Justin came over to Lance.

“So…what are we doing?”

“Whatever you want. I don’t care,” Lance said.  Justin thought for a moment, looking Lance over from head to toe. “What?” Lance snapped.

“You look REALLY good in that color green,” Justin said suddenly, picking at the sleeve of Lance’s tshirt. Lance turned crimson. “I mean it. It makes your eyes…I don’t know. Glow.”

“Thank you.” Lance didn’t know what to say.

“Homeless shelter.”

“What?”

“Let’s go to the homeless shelter.”

“I don’t think so,” Lance said. “Really, Justin. I went there last year, and it was SO boring. I mean, I like helping people, but it’s just dull…and really depressing.”

“Well, what do YOU want to do?”

“The youth club, I was thinking.  We could tutor.”

Justin laughed. “Maybe YOU could tutor.”

“You think tutoring’s dumb?” Lance said defensively.

“No, I think I’M dumb. I can’t teach someone. I can barely learn myself,” Justin said softly. “Not the brightest crayon in the box, as my dad likes to say.”

“I’m sure you’re bright enough to teach a middle school kid,” Lance said. Justin just shook his head. “Let’s go anyway. I’m sure there’s something else you can do besides tutor.”

“If you want,” Justin said with a resigned sigh.  “Well, I better grab Nick and go. We’re supposed to hit the library before dinner.”

“Justin…thank you,” Lance said suddenly.  Justin looked at him. “For what you did for JC.”

“Hey, he’s my friend. No one messes with my friends…or big brothers,” Justin added pointedly. “I gotta fly. See you on Saturday, if not before.”

Lance watched Justin walk away, trying to ignore how the jeans he wore accentuated the long lines of his legs.

Ten