Escaping Perfect

Disclaimer: These characters are mine. Any resemblance to real life situations and people is strictly coincidental.

Thank you to everyone who left feedback! I apologize for all/any typos in this chapter.

Chapter 17

His legs felt like jelly as the half ran, half stumbled out of the Howard home. Jace’s mother was the type of woman who was simply intimidating by her sheer beauty. With the added honed blade of her mind, she could make most men weep.

As Warren settled into his SUV, he began the ignition, the purr of which caused him to settle back against his seat in an attempt to regulate his heartbeat. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” The chant came just as easily as the large gulps of air that entered his lungs.

He’d give Jace a call later. Hopefully, Ms. Howard wouldn’t be too hard on him. Warren’s eyes fell on the neon green display on the dashboard. “Shit!” He yelled again.

Maybe, their being caught hadn’t been so coincidental. The clock was showing it was ten thirty. The scout was arriving at eleven. The SUV was kicked into drive, and he gaze one last look to the sunny ranch style house and hightailed it home.

His father had been pacing before the front door. Mr. Brick sighed conspicuously when Warren entered the door and shot up the stairs to his room.

“Come on, son!” His father shouted and the ticking clock from 24 became all too visible in his head. The countdown was louder than the Westlaw Percussion section. Then, he was running down the stairs, his tie being tied in the process, his suit jacket halfway up his arms, when the doorbell rang.

Colby got a quick pat on the head and his mother a peck on the cheek as Mr. Brick opened the door to the waiting scout.

“Warren, I know many schools are making you promises, but at Stateston Tech, we’ll keep them.”

For the next hour, the scout explained to them the wonders and exciting programs Stateson Tech had to offer. Most of the spiel included an overzealous description of the new stadium, funded by generous alumni, state of the art training facilities, and a top division to compete in. Mr. Brick sat entranced, while Warren listened, but failed to hear what the scout was saying. It was quite boring overall.

The situation with Jace and his mother had slid into the top priority position, while talking to his dad had moved to number two. Warren looked between his father and the scout, each wearing slightly larger smiles with each passing minute.

The Scout was sure they were sold. His dad was sure his smiling face was working well as a poker face, make the guy think they were interested and then give him something to worry about.

A bright smile landed on him, so wide it made Warren’s cheeks hurt. “We have new dorms for our athletes, tutoring 24/7…”

Warren shook his head saying, “That’s alright, I’ve always pulled an A average on my own.”

The recruiter looked impressed. “That’s great, but we have that program just in case.” The ‘just in case’ scenario made Warren think that this guy like all the rest saw him as a piece of money making jock meat. He was much more than that. Jace saw much more than that.

Mr. Brick looked at his son expectantly. He could barely restrain his smug grin. “Well, I think this has been very informative.” Mr. Brick rose and extended a hand to the scout. The men shook hands excitedly; the scout’s face conveyed a sincere hope that he’d hear something positive in a matter of days. “You’ll have our decision very soon.” Mr. Brick gushed.

Warren smiled and shook the scout’s hand again. As the front door closed behind the man, the same feelings from before began to inch to the surface. The feelings of being a fake, a grand pretender rose up inside almost causing an extreme case of vertigo.

He steadied himself. His father turned to him, his mouth pressed into a tight thin line, his grey eyes stretched wide and appearing eager. “So, what did you think?” Mr. Brick steamed ahead without allowing his son to answer. “Anyway, he can wait them out. I’m sure Stateson would even give you a single room, if we squeeze them hard enough.”

Now or never. Now or never. The chant marched in his head with a growing sense of urgency. His mother had entered the dining room with a dressed out Colby trailing behind her. Already his little brother was being groomed to be just like him. The difference between the two was that Colby might actually grow up to love the sports.

Lauren Brick placed her bags on the table, effectively ending her weekly duty as pee-wee league football mom. Colby zipped by her, eager to tell his brother of the new plays his team was working on. The look on her husbands face spoke volumes about his excitement. While her son, she noticed, seemed a little…dimmed in comparison. She knew her son very well, and he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world. “Did everything go alright?” She asked cautiously.

Peter Brick kissed his wife’s cheek quickly before resuming his excited mood. “It went well. Right, Champ?”

Warren nodded accordingly. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, and refused to give in to the habit of biting his nails. “Can I talk to you in private?” His father readily agreed and nodded in the direction of his personal office.

Once the door shut behind him, Warren swallowed breath after breath, trying to stave the feeling of drowning as his father gave him his attention. “Dad, I have something to tell you.”

Peter Brick leaned against his desk with his arms folded across his chest. “Yes, son.”

“Dad,” Warren sighed. “I don’t want to go to Stateston Tech.”

Silenced reigned for what seemed like forever. The only sounds were the ticking of wall clock as Warren waited for his father’s response. The father hadn’t moved an inch, causing Warren to feel an even heavier surge of doom inside his gut. Then, Peter Brick did something his son hadn’t expected, he smiled. “Well, that’s alright, you still have a bunch of other bids.”

The relief was short lived. “No, Dad, I don’t want to play football anymore.”

Now, the look that preceded his dread had returned. With it, the feeling of complete doom, as Peter Brick uncrossed his arms and leveled storm grey eyes on his son. “Are you joking? What the hell do you mean you don’t want to play football anymore?”

Warren swallowed thickly. “I’m saying that I don’t want to play. I don’t want football to be my future.”

His father issued him a placating look and approached him like one would approach a scared animal with the requisite palms up and open. “Okay, Warren, I want you to make some sense. Talk to me and explain to me how you’re going to throw away years of work.” Mr. Brick pleaded in a longsuffering tone.

He’d been through this scenario a thousand times. Each time, he’d thought of something better, more solid to use in his argument. Now, all of those things he’d wished to say, all his reasons why this game was no longer fun. “I never cared about it as much as you did. Seriously, Dad. It was just a bit of fun, a game, but not my idea of a career. Neither was basketball. ”

Peter Brick shook his head. “You know what, Warren. I don’t want to have this conversation right now. I want to listen to you when you’re in your right mind, because I can tell you now that you quitting, because the game isn’t fun anymore won’t cut it. You’re going to take one of these scholarships and do well, you got me?”

“No, Dad. You can’t make me live your dream.”

His father slid off the edge of his desk, advancing on him slowly. “What did you say? His father had never been the biggest of men, but his tone carried the chill of a man who knew how to hurt.

Warren gathered himself. His heart pounded in his ears like horses racing in the Kentucky Derby. This was his moment of truth, when he could finally redeem himself for feeling like such a fraud. “I’ve known forever Dad that basketball, football, all of it, have been your dreams.” His father attempted to cut him off, but Warren surged ahead. “Everyone has dreams. I have them too, but football isn’t one of them. I don’t have some cop out excuse that’s it’s not fun anymore. I am scared of getting hurt, because of a stupid game.”

“Since when did it become stupid? You used to love it.” Mr. Brick challenged.

“No, Dad. You made me pretend to love it. Just like I’ve had to pretend to like a lot of other stuff. I feel like my life is a lie. You just asked me when I thought this all became stupid, I can tell you right now. The moment I realized that a game would control my life, I realized this was stupid.”

Peter Brick reached up and grasped his son’s jaw, bringing their together despite the height difference. Two sets of grey eyes came together forming a storm of rolling anger. “If you’re on drugs, I’ll get you help. If it’s about a girl…”

Warren laughed, loud guffaws until his sides hurt. “I’m not on drugs…” The chuckles tapered off. “If it were a girl, I’d be okay….You don’t know how much shit I’ve been through.”

“—Don’t use that language with me!”

Warren sighed. “Dad, I’m…” He hesitated, then thought of Jace and how beautiful making love had been. “I’m gay.”

His father backed away; face changing gradually from placid shock to rising anger. Each passing second brought a new expression, mostly along the lines of rampant anger and disgust. “What did you say?” Peter Brick asked in a gravelly tone.

The voice that had been so strong just before was almost silent. “I’m not going to hide anymore. For once, I have a chance to be happy and I’m not going to ruin that. So yeah, I’m gay.”

Peter Brick lean against his desk again with a look of pure concentration on his face. Blank and surprisingly calm, he passed the time without looking at his son. When his eyes did land back on his wayward offspring, he leveled a hard finger in the direction of his son. “I think you’re confused, Warren. You’re not gay, just under a lot of stress. We’ll get you some help, then things will be back to normal.”

‘You can’t change me.” Warren stomped out of the room, leaving his father fuming. He grabbed his keys and bypassed his mother and younger brother.

“Warren,” His mother called, but he continued walking to his truck. He had to get out of there.


TBC

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