Page 42 of Bend Him, Break Him
Colton rode on a high wave the next morning, buzzed from his first social outing in a gay relationship.
People saw his boyfriend. People talked to his boyfriend.
Most importantly, people liked Isaac. And sure, Colton didn’t care too much what people thought.
He’d learned to let their opinions of him fall to the wayside.
Well, mostly. Okay, he’d learned to focus on not caring what people thought of him.
Of course, he still cared a little bit. Just a tiny amount.
Not enough to let people’s opinions of Isaac determine how he felt.
But Colton couldn’t help beaming because Isaac was met with approval.
So much so, it seemed like everyone was buzzing about the party.
That confused Colton. Lots of eyes fell on him during his classes.
Smiling faces turned into shadowy expressions, and whispering followed him well into the afternoon.
He struggled to distract himself from the onlookers since he’d forgotten his phone back in his room. It definitely made the day drag on.
“Colton, wait!” Tim shouted as he approached the locker room for practice.
Tim barreled ahead and intercepted Colton, blocking his way inside.
“You don’t wanna do that.”
“Do what?” Colton chuckled.
“Everyone’s seen… They’re all in there talking… It’s just, Colt, I don’t know what to say…” Tim fumbled around, his expression pleading and uncomfortable and reminiscent of the awkward stares around campus that washed away Colton’s excitement.
“What’s going on?”
“There’s a video of you and, um, Isaac.”
“A video of us?” Colton cocked his head, trying to recall if anyone was filming at the party or the afterparty—not that he hung around there for long. He’d had a few drinks but didn’t struggle to remember the events. “Who cares?”
Colton hadn’t done anything embarrassing last night.
Isaac had been on his best behavior. Honestly, Colton kind of hoped he would’ve been a bit ruder.
Colton often found Isaac’s verbal beatdowns on others a little intoxicating.
He had this way about him, this ‘no fuck’s attitude’ that most people strived for but lacked the conviction to handle.
“It’s of you guys, you know.” Tim shrugged suggestively, but Colton didn’t grasp the nature of what Tim was hinting at. All he noticed was the frantic look in his wide bloodshot eyes. “Do I have to spell it out?”
Colton shrugged innocently, always the worst at catching hints. “Maaaaybe.”
“It’s a video of you two fucking.”
“Wait, what?” Colton’s heart surged; his entire body crumbled.
Isaac and Colton weren’t exactly risk-free, but they were generally careful about public fucking.
Public anything hookup related. They’d even curbed that enthusiasm as time had passed, rarely doing more than a kiss or handhold at this point.
Had they been sloppy somewhere? Had someone recorded Colton again being indecent?
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He didn’t know what to think, what to do, how to react. “Where?”
“You two were in your bedroom, you know…”
His bedroom? Colton’s mind swirled, spiraling out of control. How did this happen?
“This was from last night?”
Tim grimaced. “There’s a video going around everywhere.”
“Show me.” Colton had to see, had to know.
“You don’t want to—”
“Show me the goddamn video.” Colton snatched Tim by the collar.
Uncomfortably, Tim pulled up the video.
‘Starting Pitcher Catches a Homerun’ didn’t seem like the most creative name in the world, but it sent a shudder of embarrassment rattling through Colton’s core.
He knew what was on the video. He knew exactly what he and Isaac had done last night.
And apparently, whoever recorded them picked a particularly intentional point to edit.
The video started right when Isaac entered Colton, capturing his groan with a staticky muffle.
It’d skipped past Colton’s blowjob, glossed over the make-out session and foreplay Isaac usually included to get Colton ready, and jumped right into a scene of Colton getting plowed by Isaac’s big dick.
The lighting was bad, and the frame stayed in one position the entire time, but the video seemed to run forever.
“That’s enough.” Colton turned away.
Tim stuffed his phone back into his pocket.
Colton wondered how many people had seen this video. Not just on campus but everywhere. Strangers. Friends. Family. Oh, fuck, what if his family heard about this video?
He reached into his pocket and froze. It was then that Colton remembered he’d forgotten his phone. Christ, it must’ve been buzzing all day with warnings, with questions, with a thousand different responses from laughter to mortification.
“You should go home,” Tim said, his voice soft. “Everyone will understand.”
Colton didn’t know what to do, how to feel, but when a few other players walked past them with laughter and whispers as they turned to enter the locker room, Colton’s panic turned into rage.
With the door to the locker room pushed open, he could hear the conversation, the jokes, the mockery at his expense…
all led by the worst human on the planet.
Leon Coleman.
He did this!
Colton didn’t know how, but he knew Leon was responsible. Without thinking, he barged into the locker room and stormed toward Leon.
“You son of a bitch!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Leon raised his hands defensively. No, playfully. “We all know how cock hungry you are, but I’m not interested.”
“Fuck you!”
“Last I checked, you’re not fucking anyone, are you?” Leon snorted. “Well, you’re fucking, but not. You know.”
“Getting fucked!” Devon said with a bit too much enthusiasm for Colton’s pain.
“That’s what I was looking for,” Leon said with a smug smile.
“I will kill you for this,” Colton said, seething rage.
“I didn’t have anything to do with your little gay porno. Whatever you and your freaky boyfriend get into is on you.”
“I’m not a fucking idiot,” Colton snapped.
“No, of course not.” Leon nodded. “Just a bottom bitch.”
“I know you did this!”
Leon leaned in close to whisper, to taunt, “Prove it, fag.”
Colton flipped out, swinging a fist faster than he could think.
His anger barreled forward, and he launched himself at Leon, attacking with a ferocity unlike he’d ever felt before.
He had a hand at Leon’s throat, his body pressed against the lockers, and his fist slamming into him again and again with furious punches.
Before he could break Leon’s nose, bash in his smug face, other players intervened.
Hands were snatching at Colton from every direction.
A sharp pain hit his ribs and his back. People were punching him.
Not Leon. No. Leon fell to the ground, gasping like a dying fish once Colton was ripped off him.
Other players had swarmed in the mass that was meant to break up the fight and used the chaos to strike Colton without anyone noticing.
By the time Colton shook himself free and shoved everyone away from him, he was panting from the pain and confusion and unbridled rage.
His torso ached like he’d been stomped on.
“Lennox,” Coach Wilson snapped, calling out Colton and waving him over. “Office, now!”
Before anyone could start anything else up by mocking or laughing at Colton, Coach Wilson cursed up a storm and sent everyone off to the field for laps.
“Not a fucking word,” he demanded. “Every word is another lap. Let me catch you whispering.”
Colton exited the locker room and followed his coach to an office where he sat with all the team leaders. It didn’t take long for Colton to sink into the chair offered, awaiting the uncomfortable conversation he knew was about to unfold.
Coach Wilson was an older guy with a never-ending sunburnt farmer’s tan and a fat gut made all the bigger by his pencil thin pasty legs.
Despite his initial unease with Colton’s coming out exposé last year, he proved an overall supportive coach.
Colton didn’t imagine this video incident turning out the same way.
Despite his best efforts, Colton tuned out almost all the considerate words, the tiptoeing topics, but when the worst part of the discussion started, Colton perked back up.
“It’s probably best that you sit on the bench until this blows over,” Coach Wilson said. “A few games at most. We’re going to evaluate the PR situation—”
“I’m being punished because someone recorded me?”
“No, but we have to take everything and everyone into account.” His coach frowned, the hard-pressed face of a man who didn’t expect to weather this particular storm.
“What happened, the video… It’s awful. You’re a victim, but I don’t think the press is going to care about that half as much as riling up our team, you, the fans, the school.
It’s a circus right now, and they’ll be an investigation, so during that, it’s best for you to sit on the sidelines, breathe, and try not to get overwhelmed. ”
“An investigation?” Colton seethed. “I know who did this!”
But he didn’t know how. He just knew in his bones Leon was behind this. And it worked out perfectly. With Colton benched, Leon would be starting pitcher in his absence.
“Not a word.” Coach Wilson raised his hand. “Nothing informal right now. Everything needs to go through proper channels. I want this by the book.”
“Proper channels? Like police?” Colton’s heart raced. Did they even handle stuff like this?
“Lord, no,” Coach Wilson said.
“Unless of course, you feel this needs legal documentation,” Assistant Coach Adams added. “They can at least look—”
“It’s better for you, for your team, for everyone if we keep this incident on campus,” Coach Wilson interrupted, glaring daggers at Adams who dared suggest Colton take action. “Something like this, you don’t want it dragged out in a courtroom for months or years or anything, right?”
“No,” Colton said with a shaky voice.