[This is a work of fiction. I may have experienced some of the dynamics in the storyline, but all the characters and settings are figments of my imagination. It is the coming of age stories of two high school friends involved in the school soccer team. For people in the UK, think football. The two boys are gay and same-sex sexual dynamics are mentioned but not elaborated. If any of this offends the reader, he should leave now. If you value this archive of stories as much as I do, consider giving to Nifty at https://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. It is volunteer-run and depends on monetary contributions to keep the site running.
I did a little research about Colombian culture so I wouldn't make a huge gaffe. I don't know what the English of a Colombian teenager with three years in the U.S. would sound like. Rather than make up a kind of Spanglish, I wrote the dialog in standard English, with a few familiar Spanish words where appropriate.
Comments to blabonte16@gmail.com are always appreciated. Enjoy.]
Jack and Juan Pablo : A Love Story 1.
When John Benson turned 11 years old, Jackie, as he was known to family and friends at the time, was a boy. By the time he turned 12, he had learned how to masturbate and soon became addicted to the orgasmic rush. He also was starting to deal with the fact that all his hormone-fueled sexual fantasies were about boys and men.
A cousin and a neighborhood boy, both about a year older than Jackie, were responsible for whatever sexual knowledge he had acquired. In those days parents were reluctant to have "the talk" about sex. He was still their little boy and didn't need to hear things like that, or so they thought. So, the job fell to peers, who were probably just as uninformed as typical parents, but in different ways.
Like so many gay boys his age, Jackie thought he was the only one who was attracted to men. He was torn about that. He knew he was out of the ordinary and wished he could somehow be like his friends. But he was already picking up, at 12, on vibes that were telling him he was wrong, or sick, or sinful. Looking back years later, he couldn't say where those feelings came from. But it didn't matter because he was the only one, right?
By the time Jackie got to eighth grade, he began telling his friends to call him Jack. Jackie was beginning to sound babyish to him. Most everybody agreed, except his parents and his aunts and uncles, who called him Jackie for the rest of their lives.
The first time he ever had a male teacher was in middle school, and as with so many before him, girls and boys, he had a deep crush on Mr. Carlson. The young social studies teacher was in his 30s and very fit. He had a wife and children and never, ever indicated in any way that he welcomed the warm feelings of some of his students. But that didn't change how they felt about him. The most attractive thing about Mr. Carlson was that he treated his pupils like adults. He never talked down to them, and he respected them as the young adults they were becoming.
By eighth grade Jack was already taller than his mom. He had the long legs and short torso of so many adolescent boys. His feet went up two shoe sizes in a year. He had his father's dark hair and eyes and his mother's fair skin. Jack was turning out to be a handsome young man. His parents guessed that he would be a heart-breaker in a few years.
Jack played his share of Little League baseball and youth soccer, but he didn't consider himself good enough to try out for any of the school teams. He enjoyed the camaraderie of the playing field and sidelines, but he didn't stand out as one of the "popular" guys. He was a B student, but both his parents and teachers felt he could do a lot better.
By his freshman year of high school, he was starting to look around at the boys in a physical way. This was the first year he was thrown in with 16- and 17-year-olds in gym class. This was still the era of open gang showers, and everyone was required to shower before they got dressed to go back to class. Jack was enthralled with the maturing bodies around him. He had a few pubic hairs already but nothing like the older boys. His penis was small compared to some of the boys', even some in his class who were far ahead of him in physical development. He also felt his penis stirring at the sight of so many male bodies, so he showered quickly and kept a towel around his middle until he could get dressed. He shied away from the towel-snapping horseplay, not sure how to act or even whether he wanted to be part of it.
Jack was also hearing, or maybe noticing for the first time, the language of the boys' locker room, especially queer-this and faggot-that and "that's so gay." He knew that guys were joking with each other, but he instinctively knew that there was something threatening behind the words he was hearing. He was afraid his friends would tease him if he asked what they meant. He couldn't say why, but he couldn't ask his parents. He tried looking up "faggot" in his dictionary at home and learned that "fag" was a British slang word for a cigarette and that "faggots" were twigs and brush bundled together for burning. "Queer" was, well, "queer," like odd or unusual. That's what he thought it meant, but he couldn't understand how it was being used. So he looked up "queer" anyway. He found the definition he was expecting until he got to the end where, in the last entry, "queer" was listed as slang for "homosexual," whatever that was. Of course, Jack looked up "homosexual" and learned that it referred to a person who has sex with someone of the same gender. All of a sudden, everything fell into place, including the casual term "homos" that he was hearing as well.
Jack Benson grew up a little more that day, and it wasn't pretty. His whole self-image came crashing in. Now he knew he was what the other kids were making fun of. He was in shock. He didn't know what to think. He was beginning to accept that he liked guys, but he hadn't given much thought about it. He knew what masturbation was, and he knew he wasn't alone in that, because he overheard in conversations that his buddies were doing it, too, only they called it "jacking off" or "jerking off." Jack didn't think of it right then, but it wasn't unusual for his masturbatory fantasies to include the juniors and seniors he saw naked in the shower room. That night when he went to bed, safely away from his parents, he cried himself to sleep. Learning who he was that day left him feeling sad, anxious and trapped.
Jack had no idea what his life would be like. As the school year ground on, he felt more and more isolated. He withdrew from his friends and became more of a loner, which only pushed people away. As he got into his sophomore year, people began noticing a difference in the way he related to other people. His parents started to worry about him and asked him if anything was wrong. He knew he could never tell them about how he felt, so he just shrugged it off. They even asked if they should make an appointment with the family physician, but Jack firmly pushed back.
Another adult, who also noticed the change in Jack, was Mr. Eaton, the school's athletic director and soccer coach. He had Jack in phys ed. He asked Jack if anyone was picking on him, and Jack quickly denied it, even though a few kids were starting to call him names, something Mr. Eaton had overheard. The coach asked Jack if he ever thought about going out for one of the teams, and Jack said he wasn't good enough to play on a team.
"Don't sell yourself short," said the coach. "You're probably better than you think. I've got an idea. I need some help with the soccer team."
"What kind of help?" Jack asked.
"Well, I could use another ball boy," Mr. Eaton replied. "What's that?" Jack wanted to know. "Well, he's called a ball boy because he chases the balls that go out of bounds and tosses them back to the keeper or to the player who's going to take a free throw. And if he can't get to a ball fast enough, he grabs a new one from the big net bag of balls. Of course, he has to then collect them all when the match is over.
"Plus, there are the locker room duties before and after the match," said Coach Eaton.
"What kind of duties?" "In the locker room, you basically turn into a towel boy. Giving out clean towels and collecting the used ones, and generally picking up and straightening out the locker room and putting away the supplies, stuff like that," said the coach.
"Would I miss my bus?" Jack asked.
"Probably, but you can always get the late bus."
"I'd have to ask my parents."
"Of course you would," said Coach Eaton. "Here, I'll give you a permission slip for them to sign in case you decide you want the job. Let me know tomorrow or the next day. OK?"
"Sure." With that single-word response, Jack opened a door he never knew existed.
His parents were delighted that he wanted to get involved with something new. They assured him that if he missed the late bus, one of them would pick him up at school. Jack perked up a bit knowing he could do something after school besides mope around, watch TV and complain about homework. The next day he found time after lunch to look for Mr. Eaton to give him the permission slip.
Coach said, "I was hoping you'd join us. The next team meeting is Monday, right after school. Show up at the gym and someone will show you where to go." 2. The week after Jack started as ball boy, Juan Pablo Sanchez walked on as a sophomore try-out. Juan Pablo had come with his family from Colombia via Silicon Valley, where his father had been working for a high-tech bio-research firm. His father's job was eliminated, but with his background he quickly found work in the city near Jack's hometown. Juan Pablo grew up playing soccer in Colombia and continued to play for the three years he lived in California. Coach Eaton sent him out onto the practice pitch with a senior veteran to put the younger boy through his paces. Coach and the players quickly learned what an asset this new arrival could become to the team.
While the team was quickly folding their new ball boy into the team family, thanks to Coach Eaton's support, some of the boys considered Juan Pablo an outsider. With only three years in the U.S., his English, while good, was still heavily accented. His skin was that delicious color that coffee has when it's mixed with just the right amount of cream. Jack's suburban high school wasn't always quick to incorporate people who looked and sounded different. A lot of the guys had trouble saying Juan Pablo, so the new guy quickly became J.P., which was fine with him. Juan Pablo had been called a lot worse things in his young life.
Jack had withdrawn into himself since his freshman year. Now a sophomore, he was trying to come to grips with his attraction to guys. He was convinced somehow that he was less than his peers because he didn't have a girlfriend and frankly didn't want one. Even with the team's initial welcome, no doubt cheered on by the coach, Jack was slow at making friends. But he did his work well and was respected for that at least.
Coach introduced Juan Pablo to each member of the team. By the time he got to Jack, the new ball boy had already decided that the newcomer was drop-dead gorgeous, which flustered him and caused a deep pink blush to creep up his neck to his face. He high-fived the newcomer and quickly dropped his gaze to the floor, with the very briefest hesitation as he took in the package in the new guy's crotch. Worried that J.P. or some of the other guys had noticed, he became even more withdrawn. Maybe the boys hadn't noticed, but Coach sure had. He quickly paired the two newcomers, telling Jack that he was in charge of making sure that J.P. knew where everything he needed was. "And since you're both sophomores, Jack, I want you to stick with J.P. for a couple of weeks to make sure he gets to know his way around."
Jack was thrilled with the task and a bit anxious, too. He didn't know what J.P. thought of him. Coming from South America, was he against gay people? He must have at least heard about, if not met, gay kids during his three years in California. J.P. himself sensed something was going on in the background with Jack, but he didn't know how to ask about it in English. And he wasn't sure he was picking up on the right social or cultural cues. Unbeknown to Jack, J.P.'s Tio Roberto was a famous drag performer in Bogot‡. J.P. had always thought his uncle was one of the coolest people in the world. Tio Beto was the most non-judgmental person J.P. had ever known. He taught J.P. how to accept and respect people as they were.
Jack's concerns and J.P.'s questions were both premature. They had hardly met, and J.P. really needed a friend he could count on. Jack certainly wanted to be that friend, but he didn't want to mess it up. Jack's self-confidence had taken quite a hit since he conceded to himself that he was gay, but he wanted J.P.'s friendship so badly. Both boys were at a loss as to where to start.
The first thing they did was take a tour of the school, one of those modern buildings from the 1990s spread out over acres of land. There were wings for science and math, language arts and social studies, shop (vocational education), and the athletics wing. The library (or media center) was next to the kitchen and cafeteria. All the administrative functions were in a central pod, which also included the main entrance. J.P. had already had a quick tour with his parents the day before when he registered, but Jack gave him some of the dirt he knew about teachers and places to hang out. He also clued him in to which bathrooms were crowded and which one the tough guys claimed as their own.
The tour included an explanation of the cafeteria's social hierarchy: where the popular kids ate, the nerds and assorted loners like him, the jocks, the Black table, the Latino table, and where the Asian kids congregated. The ethnic tables were the hardest to explain. Everyone mixed pretty easily during classes, but lunch was strictly segregated, no matter how hard the administration tried to shake things up.
Jack told J.P. he was always welcome to eat with him, but once the Latino kids knew J.P. was around, they'd try to recruit him to their table. The answer, Jack said, might be for both of them to move to the section that the jocks claimed, but even that was segregated by gender and sport. The boys' soccer team usually ate together. Coach Eaton encouraged that because he said it helped them bond off the pitch.
J.P. asked Jack whether newcomers were teased much. Jack said, "Of course, some assholes were constantly picking on kids who were different. Sometimes it's better-natured than others. Ya just gotta let it roll off your back." One benefit of eating with the soccer team, Jack said, was that they stick up for their own, even though they might tease each other when they're by themselves. "Coach Eaton keeps a firm grip on teasing, He hates bullying, and won't stand for it in the locker rooms or on the playing fields."
"Who do the bullies pick on?" J.P. wanted to know. "Are there fights?"
"Bullies are always on the lookout for weakness. They glom right on to anyone who shows fear," said Jack. "At least the boys do. I'm not sure how it works with the girls, but every once in awhile you hear about girls getting into fights. The school officially has a no-tolerance policy on bullying, but they can't eliminate it entirely. So, yeah, sometimes there are fights."
"How about the Latinos?" J.P. asked. "In California, the Salvadorans hated the Hondurans, and everybody hated the Mexicans. The majority of Latinos were Chicano, but they were usually the kids of farm workers and service workers. A lot of the prejudice was really about social status, not race or ethnicity. Of course, the Gringos hated all of us."
By then they had reached the front door, where the late buses were lining up. "Do you take a bus?" Jack asked.
"Yeah, No. 32. I got a ride in this morning, though," J.P. said.
"Oh, 32! That's my bus. C'mon, we can sit together. If we stop at the mall, we can get something to eat."
"Great," said J.P. "We must be neighbors or something if we're on the same bus."
The mall turned out to be about an equal distance from the mall for each of them, just in opposite directions. They both gravitated toward pizza, so they shared a large one. J.P. asked for sausage and hot peppers on his half. Jack wanted pepperoni. They ended up sharing some of each other's. The pizza shop was part of a food court, so they could hang out without being chased out.
"So, do your mom and dad both work?" Jack wanted to know. "Si, mami and papi both work. They don't get home until after 6:00," said J.P.
"Mine, too, except Mom gets in about 5:00 and Dad gets in around 6:30," said Jack. "Listen, it's only 3:30. Want to come to my house and play video games?" Jack asked.
"I don't know," said J.P. "I've got a lot of homework. Ah, parce, I need so much help with English."
"Hey, I could help you with that anytime you want," replied Jack.
"Let me check with mami y papi. They get so worried about me in a new town," said J.P.
"OK, maybe tomorrow or sometime," Jack answered. 3. Even though Jack's first experience with the Colombian went well, Jack couldn't help worrying. "What if I screw up? What if J.P. doesn't want to get together? What if he doesn't want to be friends cuz I'm so dorky?" All those things were going through his mind as he walked home from the mall. His self-confidence really was in the basement. When his Mom got home a little after 5:00, she routinely asked Jack how school was that day. Jack, trying to tamp down his excitement, gave the just as routine teenage reply: "OK."
"Well, what happened? What did you do?" she wanted to know.
"There's a new kid on the soccer team. He's from Colombia. Mr. Eaton assigned me to help him find things. I asked him to come play videos games, but he had too much homework," Jack said. "He asked me to help him with his English, which is pretty good already. He spent three years in California. His dad's some kind of engineer, I think, and his mom teaches Spanish somewhere. And, oh, he's on my bus," Jack blurted out in perhaps the longest speech he had uttered in almost a year. At least that's what his mom thought.
"That's nice," she said, secretly thrilled. "Just call me and let me know if he's coming to the house, or if you're going to his place," she said, "at least until we get to meet him."
Jack assented but couldn't understand why he had to. Did she think that because he was Latino, something bad might happen? Or was she just being an over-cautious mom?
The next morning J.P. wasn't on the bus. Jack wondered if J.P. was avoiding him. Then he remembered he got a ride the day before. "Maybe one of his parents drives him to school but can't pick him up," he thought.
Jack thought about his new buddy. He imagined what it might be like to kiss him and then tried to convince himself that he didn't really want to. Just what did he want from this friendship? Would romantic stuff ruin it? What would J.P. think? Was J.P. even gay, or was he just a nice guy? Was Jack reading the signals the wrong way? What signals? Jack decided he'd have to be careful. He thought he wanted the friendship way more than he wanted romance, let alone sex. But, still, he couldn't help thinking about both.
Meanwhile, J.P. was riding to school with his Dad, wondering if Jack might be more than a friend, as in maybe a romantic interest. J.P. had never told anyone, including himself, that he might have a more than platonic interest in guys É until he met Jack. This was the first time he remembered thinking along those lines. Nor had he ever met anyone who stirred this interest in him. Was it the cute blush or the quick peek in the locker room when they were introduced?
J.P. knew that he faced at least three hurdles about exploring this part of himself: machismo in Colombian society, the Catholic prohibition of same sex relationships, and the fœtbol culture in Latin America. All three were intimately related. Fœtbol operated with machismo as one of its foundations, and Catholic faith imbued them both. His dad had been a futbolista in his school days, but J.P. knew he couldn't raise the subject with his dad. The funny thing was that J.P. knew that his father would be perfectly comfortable discussing gays in soccer, as long as it didn't have anything to do with his son.
J.P. and Jack differed in that J.P. was a thorough extrovert, who was comfortable in his own skin, even as he began to face his hidden desires. J.P. was pretty sure that Jack was an introvert who didn't like to be in the spotlight. That was certainly the personality trait that Jack conveyed to people now, but it hadn't always been that way. As a boy he had been an affectionate and outgoing kid, full of enthusiasm. He seemed to have lost those traits when he acknowledged that he was attracted to men. His "disappearance," in fact, was what worried his parents the most. They desperately wanted their cheerful, free-spirited son back. Such are the casualties of puberty.4. When J.P. got to school, he saw Jack in the hall and gave him a big smile and a wave. Jack's heart practically stopped right then and there. Here was the boy of his dreams showing how much he liked Jack. As they passed each other, J.P. yelled over the pandemonium that filled the hall, "See you at practice, parce!" Parce was Colombian slang that translates roughly into "bro" or "dude." Whatever it meant, Jack was tickled to hear it, hoping that it might signify a growing closeness. The day dragged on for Jack, and he had trouble paying attention, which more than one teacher called out.
After a few remarks from Coach Eaton, the boys were sent out to the practice pitch to warm up. Coach called J.P. and Jack aside and asked if they'd like to practice making shots on goal.
J.P. let out a loud ÁSi!. Jack was excited, but said, "I don't know how." "J.P., can you get him started, show him how?" Coach Eaton wanted to know. The answer came back: "Cierto. I mean, yeah, sure."
So out they went. J.P. was so excited to share something he knew and loved. It was hard for him to stem the stream of Spanish going through his mind. Jack looked hesitant.
"What's wrong?" asked J.P.
"I suck at sports," said Jack.
"Just try, I'll show you how," said J.P. "You don't have to be perfect. Besides, I need the practice, so you can just pass the ball to me from each side. You can help me with my English after practice."
And so it began, a partnership in which each boy stretched to learn while the other got to shine. The lessons: happiness sometimes comes with such simple things as passing and kicking a ball; happiness also gives space for love and affection to grow.5. By the end of the school year, Jack was performing way beyond his job description as ball boy. He had become part of the training squad, throwing balls in, passing during shot practice, lobbing balls for goal keepers to defend. With his growing involvement, his grades improved along with his social skills. His self-esteem also grew without his realizing it. Coach Eaton inwardly beamed. It was just the reaction he had been hoping for. The other thing that grew was the relationship between Jack and his Colombian compadre. The boys visited each other's homes, and both sets of parents were first relieved and then grateful that each of their boys had found an authentic friend.
What their parents did not detect was the love that was growing between the pair, who were becoming inseparable. By junior year, for all intents, they were going steady. They never announced it, of course. They would go out on movie dates. Go to games together when the soccer team wasn't playing. Give each other small gifts. Sleep over at each other's homes, one in the bed, the other on the floor Ð most of the time.
After their parents went to bed it was not unheard of for the floor-sleeper to slip into bed with his best friend. They would hold each other and cuddle. Sometimes they'd kiss, chastely at first and then more deeply. Inevitably erections would arise that needed taking care of. At first they were embarrassed, but before long they were glad to help their buddy out. They would then fall asleep in each other's arms. The visitor, after a kiss, was back down on the floor at first light.
Junior year also meant the first look at colleges. Both boys had grade point averages above 3.5, so both had good prospects for being accepted by more than one college. They were excited about researching places they might like to apply to, until they realized that going to different schools could disrupt their physical closeness. They wondered if they could go to the same college. It was then that the difficulties began.
J.P.'s parents wanted him to go to his father's alma mater, Colombian School of Engineering in Bogot‡. Culturally, that meant that he would probably have to live with his grandmother and the assorted aunts, uncles and cousins in the big household. The culture of family in Colombia meant that J.P. would be expected to spend more time with extended family than with Jack.
Jack knew he didn't want to study engineering, but going to another school in Bogot‡ would mean learning Spanish. His grades had improved along with his self-confidence, but he was afraid he'd get lost in a foreign language and culture, with a boyfriend who could only see him intermittently.
Jack wasn't sure what he wanted to study, probably some kind of liberal arts. His parents were vague about how much they could afford for university. The guidance counselor suggested applying to some top-named colleges and some state colleges. He told Jack that when a good school accepts a student, they often offer financial aid according to the family's means. Jack had no idea where he might want to go, except somewhere near J.P., although he didn't share that with the counselor.
The boys were flummoxed. What should they do? J.P. got the idea to talk to Coach Eaton. Maybe J.P. was good enough to get a soccer scholarship somewhere. Coach would know where to apply. Since his father played fœtbol in college, maybe he would go along with the idea, So they set a time to meet after practice.
"What can I do for you guys today?" asked Coach Eaton.
Not unexpectedly, J.P. took the lead and explained their dilemma. "Jack and I want to go to the same college, or at least to schools in the same city. We were wondering if I should apply for a soccer scholarship somewhere."
"Well, you're a pretty good soccer player. There certainly are schools you could apply to that might accept you and offer you some scholarship money," Coach said. "I'm just curious, why do you want to go to the same schools anyway?"
Jack piped in, "We're such good friends, we hate to split up. We do almost everything together."
"Tell me more about your relationship."
The boys looked at each other. They had not even discussed whether they should come out to Coach Eaton. They both had agreed that they should tell their parents before they told anyone else. They weren't sure that time had come yet.
"When you say you do everything together, do you mean go for pizza together or go to bed together?" Coach asked.
Jack's fair skin and deep blush gave the game away once again. With a gulp, Jack said, "We're in love with each other." There! He had said it out loud to someone beside his Colombian boyfriend. "J.P.'s parents want him to go to school in Bogot‡, where his father got his degree, and live with his grandma."
"What would you study there, J.P.?" asked the coach. Both boys were stunned that he hadn't asked any more questions about their relationship.
"Engineering, like my father. I'm good at math and science, but I really don't know what career I want to prep for," J.P. answered.
"I understand your concern," Coach said. "But remember, plenty of straight kids end up marrying their high school sweethearts after going to different schools, and just as many who go to the same school end up splitting up and marrying someone else. Do you think it's a good idea to make decisions about your education dictated by you relationship? Have you talked to your parents about any of this?"
Both boys quietly said, "No."
"They really have a right to know about something this important. After all, you're talking about becoming sons-in-law to each other's parents, aren't you?"