Chapter 7Asher （December, freshman year of college）TheoAsherTheo #2
“No, no, no. You ladies shouldn’t be drinking that shit. Here.” Davis handed the hottest one his flask with the flourish of a grand Duke or some shit. He was seriously on my last nerve.
Asher’s lips curled into a smile at the way Davis was acting around the girls. Did Asher like that? Was Davis impressive or something?
What the fuck is going on? Why am I losing it over this?
The prettiest one, a redhead with a smattering of cute freckles, looked at the flask warily. “We’re not stupid. Who knows what you put in there?”
Davis’s eyes bulged, and I fucking loved it. She tossed her beautiful hair over her shoulder and went back to filling her cup.
“I promise it’s not spiked. Watch.” Davis took a sip, keeping his eyes on the redhead the whole time.
“See? Shit’s good, I’m telling you. It’s from Guatemala.
” He said Guatemala with an accent that made me want to deck him.
I’d bet every last dime I had that this dude couldn’t find Guatemala on a map.
Well, come to think of it, neither could I. But I wasn’t acting like some Guatemalan ambassador with my dumbass flask .
“Besides, I just gave some to my friend. I’d never do something like that to him. He’s my protégé.”
Friend? Protégé? I’m gonna snap!
The redhead cocked her head, eyeing the flask. “Well, this beer is gross…”
“It’s really good,” Asher added. “Might be my new fav.”
New fav? Asher looked at Davis, who met Asher’s gaze with an approving nod.
What’s next? Friendship bracelets and half-heart necklaces?
I was seething. None of these dudes gave Asher the time of day before tonight’s game.
Sure, he was an awesome hockey player, but they didn’t know that Asher had to work his balls off to maintain a solid GPA.
They didn’t know he came from nothing and busted his ass all through high school to get a merit scholarship on top of an athletic scholarship.
They didn’t know that, but I certainly did because Asher was my friend.
MINE!
By that point, my head was about to explode. I swallowed hard and readied myself for the atomic blast that was about to pour out of my mouth.
“Yeah, it’s probably top-shelf,” I said to the redhead. “You see, Davis owes Asher for saving our asses during tonight’s game. Asher had to step in and finish the job because Davis couldn’t.”
I knew I’d fucked up the minute it came out, but I didn’t care.
Get your hands off my friend, prick!
Asher’s eyes bugged out of his head. The three girls surveyed us with wariness, and Davis looked like he was about to crack a tooth with how hard his jaw clenched.
Davis looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Those are strong words from someone who warmed the bench all night, Moretti.”
Davis released Asher as he approached, but I quickly wrapped my arm around MY BEST FRIEND and said, “I’m just saying, my boy stepped in and played a smart game.
You knew you couldn’t overpower their center, but you kept trying because you wanted to be the big guy.
Well, look what happened. It almost cost us the game.
Asher stepped in and beat his ass with brains. Something you obviously lack.”
The girls slowly backed up, but stayed close enough to have a front row seat to the brawl that would likely commence. How did I get so heated? Why was I so mad? I didn’t understand it, but Davis was on my shitlist, and I was ready to throw down.
Asher pushed my arm off him and turned to face me. “Dude. That’s fucked up. Davis just recovered from an injury. Of course, he’s not playing at a hundred percent.”
I cocked my head to the side and cracked my neck. Intimidation, bitch. “He seems well enough to party and get his dick wet—wish I had seen this kind of energy on the ice tonight.”
Davis closed the distance between us and grabbed me by the collar.
“You’ve got some fucking nerve, rookie. You don’t think I can make your life fucking miserable on this team?
I’ve worked my fucking ass off. I got injured, and now you’re throwing it in my face?
Embarrassing me in front of people? Do you want me to break your jaw? ”
Asher stepped in between us, concern flashing in his eyes. “Guys. We’re on the same team. Let’s not do this.” Asher turned to me and spoke softly. “What the fuck has gotten into you?”
Fuck. What did get into me? What am I doing?
The simmering rage that had propelled me to challenge our starting center began to cool down as the reality of getting my ass walloped by him, and probably the whole starting line once they saw the fight breaking out, started to dawn on me.
“Dude. I don’t know what that was,” I said to Davis.
And I really didn’t know what it was. As the adrenaline subsided, my mind began to swirl. He put his hands on Asher, and I almost choked him. Why?
I looked around, and a few people were watching us, waiting to see what would happen. Asher was still between us, but Davis could toss Asher out of the way at any moment. I braced myself for the attack. Davis and I were the same height. Could I take him? Sure, but I’d have the scars to show for it.
I finally stammered out, “I…I think I’m just…”
“Left out,” Asher blurted. “We were both talking about the shitty beer. No offense, Davis, I know this is your place and we appreciate the free beer, but I think Theo felt left out when you offered me the flask.”
What a prince. I owed Asher big time.
Davis’s jaw clicked as he stared at me. His eyes narrowed, and he said, “You pissed because I didn’t offer you some booze?”
I mean, yeah, but I was way more pissed about his hands being all over my best friend, but I couldn’t say that without seeming super fucking weird .
It was a solid out, though, so I took the opportunity.
“Look, I know I’m not a hotshot like you and Asher, but I’m still on this team.
If you’re giving out the good stuff to a select few, maybe wait till the “bench warmers” aren’t standing right next to you. ”
Davis raised a brow at me, then handed over the flask. “Point taken. That was my bad. I shouldn’t have ignored you, Moretti. My booze is your booze.”
I took a swig and thanked him. We fist bumped, solidifying the end of our beef, and he sauntered off.
When Davis was out of earshot, Asher whispered, “Dude, are you mad at me?”
“What? Why would I be mad at you?”
Asher eyed me cautiously. “Did you drink before this? Where did that come from? You nearly ripped Davis’s head off. Is it because I got some time on the ice? Dude, you’ll get yours. Tonight was a fluke. I got lucky. Davis is injured—”
“No, no, no, don’t diminish your skills. That wasn’t about you. I fucked up. I got weird over the booze, that’s all. Fucker should share.” Goddamn, I was making the night about me when it was Asher’s night. What’s the matter with me? I almost ruined the night for Asher, who deserved to celebrate.
“Do you wanna head out?” Asher asked. “We can go back to our dorm and chill—”
That was the last thing I wanted. Asher deserved to have fun. Start acting like a normal person, Theo. “Nah, let’s party. Everyone here wants to sing your praises, and you deserve it.”
I could see Asher was about to protest, so I stopped him with an announcement. “Hey sluts! Get your glasses! A toast to my best friend who fucking crushed it tonight.”
The whole place erupted, the entire team cheering for Asher. Someone else toasted Johnson, and before long, both he and Asher were being dragged over to the keg for keg stands.
Asher
I breathed in the crisp December air as my eyes scanned the snow-covered ground shimmering in the moonlight. I played my first NCAA game and was the toast of a party hosted by the Bobcats’ starting line. I should have felt amazing.
But I didn’t.
What’s wrong with me? Why won’t this feeling go away?
When I left home, I thought I’d finally feel free.
I’d spent most of my life dreaming of escaping my mom and her terrible boyfriends, and I did it.
I worked my ass off and got into college with enough scholarship money that I didn’t have to ask that woman for a single cent.
Not only that, but I was excelling in school and crushed it on the ice during my first college game.
I’d accomplished everything I set out to do.
So why did I still feel like a piece of shit?
Back home, I was in a constant state of survival mode.
When I wasn’t dodging punches from the abusive assholes Mom kept around, I was trying to shield my heart from the venom she spewed at me day after day.
Brief moments of relief would flicker during the in-between times—between beatings and cruel words—but then an emptiness would settle in.
That hollow, aching feeling would consume me.
I thought leaving would make it go away, but it didn’t.
It lingered. The longer I stayed away from the demons at home, the more I realized that emptiness inside me was a demon, too.
It had a personality of its own, and its mission was to tell me that everything I did was garbage.
No matter how well I did in college, that cruel, empty feeling persisted—trying to sabotage all the good things that came my way.
I walked around the party feeling like an imposter because I knew the secret. Would these guys pat me on the back and share their booze if they knew I was gay? Or would they beat me into the ice and watch me bleed?
I thought I was better than this. Intellectually, I knew that it didn’t matter what people thought of me. It was 2024, and if people had a problem with me, that was none of my business.
It shouldn’t matter if I’m gay. But it does.
Every time I worked up the nerve to talk about it, flashes of my life back home would bombard me. My throat would close, my eyes would water, and I’d chicken out.
I thought I was better than this.
I went from living in a prison at home to living in a prison of secrecy.