2. Bad Ideas
2
BAD IDEAS
“ B alls?” Mathias asked. “Balls?!”
“Yeah,” Eric said.
Mathias had not been listening at first; his mind had been focused on other things— better things —like full lips leaving a trail of incendiary kisses down his chest, the sound of a broken moan in his ear, but Eric really went too far this time and tore him even fromthatdaydream.
He glared at his friend. “That’s your idea of romance? Balls?”
“Yeah?” Eric replied, loudly chewing his gum. He didn’t sound so sure anymore. “No? Maybe?”
“Balls, really?”
“Yes, balls! Why?”
Mathias shook his head. What an absolute idiot . If Eric weren’t his best friend, Mathias would have run away in embarrassment. They had just arrived at practice, and since Kayvin was barking orders at Xavier in the middle of the frozen football pitch, they stepped farther back toward Mathias’s goal to avoid getting overheard.
“Let me make this clear: you want to invite Zak on a date?”
“Yes.”
“To your place?”
“Yeah.”
“And you want to impress him?”
Eric popped his gum. “Yup. ”
“You want to make him dinner?”
“ Yes .” That asshole started to sound impatient.
“And as for the atmosphere...you’re thinking...balls?”
Eric shrugged. “Sure, what’s wrong with balls?”
Mathias wanted to grab him by his jersey and shout, What’s wrong with you?! But he managed to stop himself. “Let’s see...Have you ever seen a romantic movie where the girl is showing up to the venue for, I don’t know, herwedding, and she enters the place, and she goes ‘Oooh, nice balls’?”
Eric’s smile faltered. “...No?”
“No? Are you sure?”
“No?”
“Then why the fuck are you going with balls?!”
“Because they’re round!” Eric excitedly jumped in place. “Round shapes are, like, relaxing and...and nice to the eye! People like balls. They’re funny! They’reballs!”
“Okay...”
“Listen, I found this shop that sells like...these massive balls. You can sit on them, and they’re super bouncy. Nice, nice stuff.”
“Like a yoga ball?”
“Yeah, exactly that! But if I bought a lot of them in different sizes and colors, it would look really cute, I think.” He spread out his hands. “ Magical .”
“Yeah, so magical! Poor Zak.”
“Why ‘poor Zak’? Why? What do you know about these things, anyway? You’re not a wedding planner, as far as I know.”
“There’s a whole universe between wedding planning andballs!”
“Okay, okay, calm down.” Eric chewed on his gum fiercely. “It seems I got it wrong. Help me, best buddy. What do I do?”
Mathias slipped Kayvin a quick glance. He was now shouting at Charles-Henry, and he wasn’t paying attention to them.
“First, forget about yoga balls.”
“How about beach balls?”
“No! How does Zak deal with you, honestly?”
“Fine. No beach balls. What, then?”
“I don’t know, but like...lights?”
“Lights?” Eric asked with a frown. “Light...balls?”
“Just lights!” Mathias clenched his fists. “Thelightingdoes everything, not balls or whatever. ”
“Or...” Eric said, scratching his chin. “...I could also use balloons.Lovely pastel balloons!”
“I’ve never ever heard of anything romantic being associated with having balloons everywhere. Balloons are for birthdays and elections. I think you— Hey, listen! I know that face. I think you just like balloons, and you convinced yourself somehow that they’re perfect for every occasion. Because you’re crazy.”
He saw he was right from the way Eric’s ears turned pink. “So, no balls, then? Not even one or two?”
“The only set of balls you’re allowed to bring to your date are the ones attached to your dick. And they should also stay in your pants—if you’re a gentleman.”
Eric grinned. “What do you know about being a gentleman?”
Mathias ignored his jab. “I was forced to watch a lot of rom-coms, okay? The sort of movie where no dork ever shows up with balloons like a circus clown freak.”
“All right, I get it. But don’t call me a dork. It reminds me of Alberto.”
Mathias’s heart jolted, and he momentarily forgot how to breathe. “Lights,” he croaked. “Fairy lights. You want to make your boy feel special? You get the fucking lights. You get the mood right. And you get what he likes.”
“Zak likes balls. He said it. It’s not the first time I’ve thrown him a party.”
Mathias clicked his tongue. “I bet your ass he lied because he likes you.”
Eric giggled. “He does. I hope he does.”
There was no doubt about that. Mathias had seen them together. With the way it was going, even Eric’s transfer wouldn’t be a problem. And of course, his thoughts flew back to the other freak. He wondered what would happen if he put together a romantic date for Alberto—?tell him to dress nice, that they had the entire apartment to themselves—and he sighed. Alberto would probably show up in the same weird clothes, smirk at the fairy lights, and toss his cigarette butt in the Champagne right before he’d sweep the dishes aside with one hand, lay his ass on the table, curl his finger at him, and purr out some shit like, You know where to put it.
Mathias sighed ostensibly, not knowing if something was wrong with him, because that sounded like a really nice date, actually. But he also...he also would like.. .
What the hell was he thinking now? Last Sunday, Alberto clearly demonstrated he wasn’t attracted to him anymore. And good riddance. Mathias had never liked him, anyway.
Unfortunately for him, despite how many times he told himself he wouldn’t waste any more time on Alberto, the latter wouldn’t leave his thoughts alone. Mathias kept thinking about the first morning he got this hands on him, all warm and soft, about his face when he sat among the trash, about his mocking smirk when he confessed he’d made out with Xavier, and Mathias hadn’t understood at the time why he was so angry. These unwanted thoughts constantly plagued Mathias, and practice was the last thing on his mind. In fact, he didn’t even notice when the ball was kicked his way and rolled to a stop at his feet.
“Shoot it back!” Kayvin sputtered from the halfway line.
Mathias stared at it without seeing it, his forehead creasing.
“Matt...” Eric was trotting toward him; he came at a stop a few feet away from him. “Matt?”
“I didn’t see it coming,” Mathias muttered.
Kayvin stomped his foot. “Shoot, putain ? 1 !” His tone forced Mathias to look up.
If you insist .
Mathias shot, aiming right at the back of Kayvin’s head. He didn’t miss. He loved the dumb sound it made upon colliding with Kayvin’s skull and had to try hard not to snicker. How do you like being pushed around, asshole? Because of him, Xavier had had his way with Alberto.
Mathias turned to Eric with a smile. “You were right!”
“About what?” his friend asked, looking tense.
“Balls. They are funny.”
Kayvin recovered fast enough, and he galloped back to Mathias’s goal, his face purple with rage. Mathias leaned on his goalpost and slowly started to remove his gloves. Come on, jerkface. Give me the pleasure.
“What’s your fucking problem?” Kayvin went off, jabbing his finger in his chest.
“Sorry,” Mathias said in his most innocent voice. “It was an accident. I warned you my aim isn’t very good.”
“I’m your fucking captain.”
“I know, I know.”
“You better watch out before I get you kicked out.” Kayvin spun on his heel and pointed at Eric. “And you, too. Your job isn’t to chat with your new boyfriend, as far as I know.”
Comforted by Eric’s lack of reaction, Kayvin walked away. Mathias didn’t like the way his friend helplessly stared after him.
“You’re gonna get in trouble with him,” Eric said. “I don’t like it. You saw what he did to Alberto the other day.”
“I’m not Alberto, am I?” Mathias gritted his teeth. “I can take care of myself.”
“I’m aware.” Eric gave a haughty shrug, one he had learned from Zak. “But it’s all very unnecessary, as my baby would say.”
Mathias turned his back to him. His baby . His traitorous baby also had had his way with Alberto. In fact, everyone but Eric seemed to have gotten to know him intimately. Okay, fine, and perhaps Kayvin, too. But it sure felt like the entire world was getting a piece of Alberto nowadays,exceptMathias, of course. And without Alberto to vent his frustrations, all Mathias had was football and the privilege to shoot his ball straight at that Kayvin’s enormous head.
So, the next time he cleared the ball, he aimed at him again and hit the mark beautifully, and that’s how he ended up in detention at nine on a Tuesday morning. Even he had to admit he had surpassed himself.
V.B. himself went to get him, and he tossed him in the detention room, mumbling he didn’t have time for him right now—his favorite dog had diarrhea, and for some reason, he was waiting in his office—and when Mathias turned around, he came face-to-face with Alberto. He was sitting with his cheek pressed to a table littered with empty coffee cups at the back of the room, his eyelids heavy with sleep.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in a raspy voice.
It took a second for Mathias to swallow his heart that had just jumped up his throat. “Kicked a ball at Kayvin’s face. Twice.” He appreciated the hint of a smile on Alberto’s face. “You? Did you fall asleep?”
“ And got interrogated. And didn’t know the answers.”
“Which book?”
“Rousseau, I think?”
“Rousseau? In English Lit?”
“Mmm…” Alberto laid his head on his hands. “Wrong book, wrong class… I really deserved to be kicked out this time.”
Mathias studied him from a distance. Asleep or awake, he was always beautiful, but when he was between the two like now, he was simply adorable. Mathias cautiously approached him and sat in a nearby chair. “Yeah, me too.”
“Kicking Kayvin in the face qualifies as a public service. That’s probably why Van Bergen just sent you here and not straight to his office.”
Mathias looked away. “I don’t know. His dog is repainting his office at the moment, so…”
“Oh.” Alberto straightened up, his expression mildly confused. “Right.”
“Do you need me to get you some more coffee? Vitamins, maybe?” Mathias offered with an awkward laugh.
To his surprise, Alberto himself didn’t look too assured today. He kept averting his eyes, preferring to cast them on his lap. If Mathias didn’t know him to be a cold fish, he would have thought he was nervous to see him.
He helplessly racked his brain for something casual to say, but all he could think of was how terrible he was at blowjobs and how Alberto would probably never kiss him again with his decadent lips. Then, he finally noticed a horrible noise, and he craned his neck around the room in search of the culprit.
“What’s that sound? Do you hear this?”
Alberto pointed at the CD player on the desk. “Van Bergen’s idea of torture.”
“How can you stand it? It sounds like a herd of goats murdering each other in a nineties nightclub.”
“I can tune it out by making myself disappear.”
“Sorry, what?”
Alberto shrugged.
“In any case, I can’t do anything like that.” Mathias got up to unplug the thing and found the machine was actually locked inside some protective case. Even worse, the wire went through the wall, emerging straight into V.B.’s office. That lunatic had thought of everything.
With a click of his tongue, Mathias scanned around the room, grabbed the closest chair and slammed it on top of the case.
Alberto jumped to his feet. “Mathias!”
That was a promising result. Humming at his success, Mathias repeated the gesture until the lock—as well as the case—cracked open. Slamming his fist on top of the player, he sighed when the horrible music came to a stop. “Isn’t this better? ”
“Van Bergen is definitely going to kill you.” Alberto sounded as excited as he sounded worried.
Feeling quite proud of himself, Mathias picked up the CD player and walked over to the window to open it. He threw the machine outside with a sneer. “I’m not afraid of oversized maniacs carrying riding crops.”
He really wasn’t, but when Alberto’s eyes lit up, he lost a bit of his composure and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“You’re so cool,” Alberto said, his voice so quiet, Mathias could have almost missed it.
Those three words froze Mathias on the spot. It suddenly felt like the world was full of opportunities, if one could only live long enough. A part of him briefly pondered the possibility of offering Alberto to have sex with him on one of these tables, but he realized he’d have to be a proper basket case to do that. He dropped his arms to his sides with a sigh.
He clearly still wanted him. That was problematic, because Alberto seemed done with him the other day, didn’t he? He met the creature’s eyes, who lowered them in a weirdly timid way. His cheeks burning, Mathias seized his backpack. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What?”
“Come on.” He jerked his chin toward the window. “Let’s do it.”
Alberto didn’t move. “Are you sure? What if Van Bergen notices? You’ve already destroyed his torture device.”
“So?” Mathias let out a dry laugh. “What’s the worst that can happen? My mom dies again?”
The silence that followed made him worry he said something stupid again. But just when he was about to take it back and apologize, Alberto murmured, “Did she fight?”
Mathias nodded. “Until the very end.”
“That’s good,” Alberto said in a sad tone.
Perhaps he cared a bit after all. Mathias believed in that enough that he found the resolve to ask, “Do you wanna see her?”
“See… her?”
“Her tomb. You wanna see it?”
Though Alberto opened his mouth, no sound came out of it for a few seconds, until he went, “Yeah, okay.”
They gathered their stuff, and they did climb out of the window, but they were on the ground floor, or Mathias wouldn’t have let Alberto do it, because though he sometimes reminded him of a cat, he had none of the agility.
They grazed along the side of the building until they could make a run for the gate. When they were safely onto the street, Alberto caught up to him, lost his balance, and accidentally bumped into him. Mathias leaned into the touch without saying a word and thought that if he’d moved his fingers a bit to the right, he could have caught his hand.