Page 18 of The Locker Room

water, and Xanderfinallydropped their clenched hands to his side and

brought his other hand up to wipe away Chris"s tears with his thumb.

“I can do anything if it means I don"t have to leave you,” he said

honestly. “If I can play basketball, it will all be okay.”

Christian leveled him a mutinous, angry look, and Xander

recognized it. He"d shown it to his parents when they told him that if he

didn"t bring up his math grades he"d have to quit the team. He"d shown it

to their dumbfuck World History teacher (soooomuch less cooler than

16

Amy Lane

Coach had been the year before) when she"d commented on Xander"s

torn and oft-worn jeans. He"d shown it to kids at lunch when they

suggested (none too subtly) that maybe he"d want to stop tagging along

with the poor kid, when they had better parties to go to.

“You can"t live there, either,” he said with determination, and

Xander looked at him helplessly. Chris"s parents probablywouldlet

Xander sleep on their couch for forever, but Xander didn"t want that.

Chris… Chris sort ofrespectedhim. Xander didn"t want to be some

uselessthing,just leeching off of Chris"s family. Xander"s sense of these

things was hazy—he only had two reference points. There was the filth

and spareness of his own home, and the sweetness and comfort of

Christian"s. The adults in that home worked in partnership. The adults

thereprovided.Xander didn"t recognize that he was barely fifteen. He

just recognized that if he was ever going to… tobewith Chris, then he

didn"t want to be a leech, or a burden, or a charity case.

He wanted to be a partner.

“An apartment,” he said brightly. “I"ll… we can fake an ID or

something. I can get an apartment. She… she won"t know where I am.

She won"t care. I… I just—” Chris was looking at him with big, bright

eyes, as though he were making sense, as though he really could change