Page 14 of The Locker Room

when he was talking about Christian"s family. “And at your house,” he

finished, embarrassed. “What do you want me to say? I still gotta go to

school. I still gotta play.”

Chris looked at him, outrage sparking those night-dark eyes. “Play?

Play?Goddammit, Xander! Shouldn"t you be worried about something

else? A place to sleep? A foster family?Jesus, how you let me just run

you around this last year, dragging you into the fucking team and

nagging at you about your fucking homework!Fuckthe game!”

“Don"t you say that!” Xander was horrified.

“I mean it!”

“Don"t you say it!”

“Fuck the motherfucking game!”

“Shut up!Shut up! SHUT THE FUCK UP!”Xander realized that

he was shouting, but he couldn"t seem to help it. Xandernevershouted.

Henevershouted, and henevergot angry, and heneverlet shit bother

him. He just did what the teachers asked and did what Coach told him

The Locker Room

and followed Christian blindly into the lunchroom and onto the court and

into hell if he asked him, because Christian and basketball were the two

things Xander had locked into the laser scope of his brain that he would

never change up for another target. Ever. And Chris was just going to

smear those images, throw them away, take away the only two things

that had ever meant a fucking thing, because Xander hadn"t been able to

sneak quieter or duck quicker, and it wasn"t any fucking fair.

“Shhh!” Chris said frantically, looking up at the small window

above their heads. With any luck, Mr. and Mrs. Side-yard had already

gone for work, but you could never tell.

“You can"t take it from me!” Xander half-gibbered. “Dammit,

Chris… you… the game… it"s all I got!” He meant “You and the game”