Rainbow Road by Alex Sanchez Page A

shot he began to feel his center, that integrity point inside his brain that Coach had taught him to identify.
    “The eye in the hurricane,” Coach had caled it, the point where Jason could feel at peace with himself amid a stadium of cursing spectators, shouting referees, and his own conflicting inner voices.
    “Hey, man!” someone abruptly caled to him.
    Jason turned. One of the players from the neighboring court stood watching him. “One of our guys left us short. Want to run?”
    “Sure!” Jason set his bal down and joined the group.
    “You’re shirts,” the boy told him. “Game’s to eleven. Win by two.”
    Even though Jason knew none of these guys, he quickly felt at ease. Within seconds he’d hit his first shot and his teammates were clasping his hand. It felt great to be around normal guys again, who played by clear, established rules; guys who looked and acted like guys were supposed to look and act, in contrast to those wacky Faeries.
    And yet Nelson’s comment about having “the courage to let go and be who you are” kept nagging at him. Not wanting to think about it, Jason focused on the game at hand. And when it came time to go, he had to force himself to leave.
    As he walked back to meet Kyle and Nelson, he thought what a relief it had been to take a break from 24/7 gayness. Between Nelson’s finger snapping and Kyle’s hand-holding, hardly a moment could pass that he wasn’t reminded of it.
    Like now, watching them approach, he could hear them bickering—not like most dudes his age, but almost sounding like a couple of old ladies.
    He liked being with them, but … sometimes he felt so different from them. And yet he was different from the boys on the court, too. Would he ever feel like he fit in anywhere ?
    “How’d it go?” Kyle offered a tentative smile.
    “Great.” Jason smiled back. “How was the Opry?”
    “Fabulous!” Nelson exclaimed. “You missed out big-time.”
    “I wish you’d come,” Kyle told Jason. “Hey, check this out!”
    Jason gazed at the photo of Kyle and Nelson on stage at the Opry. Now he wished he’d gone too. He bit his lip in regret.
    Kyle must’ve noticed. “We can go back if you want.”
    “Nah.” Jason shrugged. “That’s okay.” He handed back the photo.
    “Wel, you can’t bag out on Graceland,” Nelson told him as they started toward the car.
    But Jason slowed his steps as he noticed the passenger door. Scratched into the paint, a word stood out: FAGGS!
    “Assholes!” Nelson shouted at ful voice. “The jerks can’t even spel.”
    “Who would do this?” Kyle ran his fingers along the scratch. “How would they even know?”
    “Probably that flag on the bumper,” Jason speculated. “I told you to take it off.”
    “If it wasn’t for that flag,” Nelson pointed out, “we’d probably stil be on the side of the road out of gas.”
    “Guys?” Kyle interjected. “There’s nothing we can do about it now. Let’s just go eat.” Grudgingly, Jason climbed into the car. As Nelson drove, Kyle guided them past the replica of the Greek Parthenon, which was cool to look at from outside but cost too much to go in. A few blocks away from it, Kyle spotted a barbecue place and suggested, “Why don’t we try that?” Inside, the restaurant smeled like a hundred years’ worth of wood smoke. As the gum-chewing hostess led them to their table, she stared suspiciously at Nelson’s pink hair.
    After they placed their order, Kyle asked Jason, “So did you find some guys to shoot with at the court?”
    “Yeah.” Jason nodded and sipped his water.
    Nelson leaned eagerly across the table. “Were any of them cute?”
    “Is that al you think about?”
    Nelson put a finger to his chin as if thinking for a moment, then said, “Yeah. Were they?” Jason set his water glass down. “I didn’t notice.”
    But that wasn’t entirely true. He had noticed a couple of the guys were good-looking, but he just hadn’t given it much thought. He’d