Charlie closed his yearbook and held it close. He couldn't remember ever treasuring and despising the same object this way.
Mr. Hall pulled Charlie and Cade aside, looking drained. He had them sign their names in their yearbooks and hand them back to him, then looked at them as they stood on opposite sides of him. "Gentlemen, you both did great work."
He turned to Cade, "Your photography and layouts were great. You've got a really good eye for aesthetics, and an incredible, unique style."
Cade felt his dignity return a little. "Thank you.'
He turned to Charlie, "And Charlie, great writing. You really have a way with words. And you notice details that most people miss completely."
Charlie allowed himself to grin, just a little. "Thanks, Mr. Hall."
Mr. Hall sighed. "But..."
The boys tensed up. Mr. Hall continued, "I can't tolerate your arguing anymore. I'm not going to approve your return next year."
Charlie and Cade exploded in unison, "What? That's not fair!"
Mr. Hall looked at them regretfully. "I'm sorry, boys, but your fighting made this year tough for everyone. I'm not putting up with it again. And do you know what?"
Charlie and Cade looked at the floor. "What?" they both asked, ashamed.
Mr. Hall put his hands on both of their shoulders and gazed at them earnestly. "You two... You could have made a great team... if you just had learned to get along."
The boys glared at each other and walked out the door. Charlie groaned inwardly. They were headed to PE. In journalism, he and Cade were on even footing. But PE was Cade's territory.
Cade had had enough. Once they were in the hallway, he turned to Charlie, "Congratulations, stiff," he exploded, "You just got us kicked out."
Charlie fumed, "Me? This is my fault now? You're the one who put that, that, picture of me in there!"
Cade snapped. "You know damn well you could have checked all of the layouts before they were sent. It's too late now! Deal with it!"
Charlie felt his neck get hot. "I wasn't expecting to see my picture in the 'Student Life' section!"
Cade sneered, "That's because you don't fucking have one!"
Charlie winced. The sting couldn't have been worse had Cade whipped him with his own belt.
A few kids in the hallway snickered as they walked by. Charlie felt his face grow hot.
Cade paused, too, realizing he had struck a nerve. He almost wanted to tell Charlie that the picture in the student life section was the only one he could find where he actually looked alive. But he couldn't admit that now. Nor could he admit that he had wanted to make sure that this... jerk... who clearly still hated him, was seen in the yearbook.
Both boys were silent, fuming. Neither spoke as they followed the thinning crowd to the stairs.
Charlie stole a quick glance at the door, looking back quickly enough to notice that Cade had been looking at it too.
As the boys headed down the stairs, Charlie couldn't help but wonder what Cade knew about the door. He had seen two seniors, Jed and Drake, enter once and had wondered how ever since. But there was no way he was going to ask Cade about it.
Cade stole a quick glance at Charlie. He had noticed Charlie glance at the door to his hiding place. Had Charlie been up there, too? What did Charlie know about the cupola? Cade shrugged slightly. After today, it wouldn't matter.
The boys were silent, lost in thought, as they headed to the basement.
Cade paused for a second when they got to the cafeteria and glanced over to the bathroom. It was too dark to tell if the shirt was still there. He wanted to go see and to get it if it was. It was the only one he had for PE. But he'd have to explain what he was doing and how the shirt ended up there if it was still on the floor, which would mean bringing up the lunchroom incident again. He did not want to go there.
It bugged him, though. If the shirt was there, had Charlie rejected it, or just not seen it? It was on the floor, after all. If it wasn't there, did Charlie have it? If he did, why didn't he say something? If he didn't, where could it be?
Cade looked back at the lunchroom. Charlie had stopped just ahead, jaw clenched as he looked at the spot where they had collided. Cade desperately wanted to apologize, but it was sure to set Charlie off again. Charlie already thought he had enough reasons to hate him.
The warning bell rang. Charlie groaned. "Great. Late to another class." He was too tired to rush, though. He'd never been eager to get to gym class anyway. He wished he could just turn around and leave, forgetting this stupid day ever happened.
Cade caught up to him, chuckling. "Don't worry. You get used to it after a while."
Charlie just glared at him, but he didn't leave Cade's side. As much as he disliked Cade, he had no desire to walk into the locker room alone looking like he'd peed his pants. And, the fewer guys he had to change in front of, the better.
They walked through the doorway that led to the old pool as the tardy bell rang. The pool area was now a place of storage and secrets. The place where people put things and did things that no one was supposed to see. It was always creepy, with its old objects and secrets shrouded in darkness, especially in winter, when the old boiler in an adjoining room would start creaking, roaring, and clanking.
Cade looked around, almost in awe at what this place was like not so long ago. He spoke out loud, but to himself. "I wonder what it was like when the guys had to swim together with nothing on. Nothing to show status or clique or class. Nothing to hide."
Charlie shivered. "Do you have to keep bringing that up? I read your article in the student paper. I get it. They swam naked. I don't see why you have to keep bringing it up."
Cade looked surprised. "You... read my article?"
Charlie's face went warm. "I, uh, just wanted to know what all the fuss was about, that's all." Everyone seemed to have stories about skinny-dipping parties they had gone to after that. Charlie had secretly wished he could have joined one, since he didn't dare go swimming alone. Just once, just to try it. To be on the same level as everyone else. To be exposed but not ashamed. To be connected through shared vulnerability. But he didn't dare tell Cade that.
Cade opened the door to the locker room. Charlie was relieved that it was at least empty until he realized that it was worse. It would just be him and Cade, with nowhere to hide. He was attacked by the frightening sight of three poles crowned with shower heads, right at the entrance, as if designed deliberately for maximum exposure, and the sickening fog of the stench of sweaty pits and feet and groins, of filthy socks and soiled jocks mingled with mildew and manure and wet dog and musty hay, the cheap deodorant and body spray and hair gel and over-strong mint that were intended to conceal odor making the smell even more unbearable. For the second time today, Charlie was grateful for an empty stomach.
Charlie opened his locker with trembling hands, then stood there, clutching his zipper, tense, his back to Cade. Wishing he could run or that Cade would vanish, or both.
Cade felt anger welling up inside him. Not at Charlie, really. But at the fear he saw in Charlie, the fear of being seen. Cade felt that same fear, hidden beneath his bravado, and it crippled him. He hated to see the same fear cripple someone he had come to care about. Even if he could be insufferable. He'd noticed how Charlie had seen people that no one else did— Mr. Carson, the lunch ladies, the little kid who needed help reaching something at a gas station they had stopped at on the way to a meet. He'd seen how Charlie had become a stranger in his own hometown. Some of it was his own damn fault, but not all of it.
Cade wished he could just strip Charlie. Expose him. See who he really was beneath that zipped jacket and button-up shirt. To see him— the real Charlie. To see the fire he knew was just flickering below his frigid facade. And he shuddered, his stomach sickening at what he had just thought. He really was a freak. Just like his dad had said when he saw Cade's drawings of his own naked body reflected in the bathroom mirror. He felt a fire inside. Fine. He was going to be a freak, then. Maybe, just maybe, if Charlie saw the freak he really was behind his cockiness and his "No Fear" wrestling shirts, Charlie wouldn't feel like he had to hide from him anymore.
Cade yanked his shirt off and threw it to the floor, then jerked his pants off and kicked them aside.
He hesitated for a moment, looking at Charlie, then at the floor. Then he peeled off his briefs and stood, stiff and exposed.
Cade snapped. "Look at me, Charlie!" He yelled.
Inside, he was screaming, "Look! We're both freaks! Can't you see that?"
Charlie kept fumbling at his zipper, ignoring Cade.
Cade felt something inside himself snap.
"Damn it, Charlie! Look at me! Just look at me!"
In his mind, he yelled, "See me, Charlie! I'm scared too! You don't have to be alone."
Charlie whirled around and took in all of Cade. Saw Cade's thing pointed right at him. And it looked... weird. Charlie blushed, then looked up at Cade's face. For a moment, he saw fear cross Cade's face. Charlie closed his eyes and turned away, but the image of Cade stayed. He whirled back toward his locker, heart slamming in his chest, hands trembling, his own thing stiffening, wanting to puke yet again, trying to unsee what he had just seen. But he couldn't.
Cade pulled his shorts up. Then, almost too quiet for Charlie to hear, "Do you know what it's like to be the only fucking guy with a foreskin down here, Charlie?"
Charlie felt himself tremble. He did know what it meant to hide. For the first time, he no longer saw the cocky wrestler. Just a scared, lonely boy like himself. And it terrified him. More than the arrogant, pushy jock ever could. Charlie realized what Cade had been trying to do. Cade didn't want him to have to hide.
Charlie felt himself go hot. He had to hide. He didn't want anyone to see how small his– his everything was. And no one could see what he was really like inside. Not Cade. Not anyone.
The pent-up anger welled up inside, like magma forcing itself against a cold, brittle, unyielding plug of basalt. He kept that cold stone plug in check. He couldn't let the fire out. He knew it would destroy both of them.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" He yelled, trembling, trying not to explode.
Charlie braced himself for Cade's anger. But to his horror, Cade grinned and slipped his gym shorts on, then started pulling on his shoes, hoping that Charlie didn't see him fumble with his laces. He wished he could tell Charlie what really scared him about the locker room. About his interest in rippling muscles and the tension in tendons. It was what drew him to wrestling. It was perfectly normal to study people on the mat. It was an entirely different matter in the locker room.
"Ok." He responded quietly. "See you out there."