Chapter Text
"I wanna stay here with Sam!"
Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose as they pulled into the parking lot. To say that Stevie was supposed to be the quieter twin, his little brother could definitely make his voice carry when he wanted to. It felt like the sound was bouncing all around the car, and Sam was just glad that they were still in motion so nobody could hear them.
"Stevie, we talked about this—"
His mom spoke gently, with infinitely more patience than Sam had left, but Stevie was not willing to listen. "Why does Sam get to go to football camp, and I have to stay at home?"
"I told you we should have left them behind." Sam straightened his shirt, giving his mom a pointed look in the rearview mirror. He'd wanted to wear one with, like, a funny joke on the front, or a cool design. That would have been a conversation starter. But his dad had insisted that first impressions mattered, so he was instead wearing a new, simple button up shirt. He'd managed to escape the confines of a tie by pointing out how warm it was going to be, but he still felt uncomfortable.
"You'd have been sad if you couldn't say goodbye to all of us," His mom turned around to smile at him and shake her head, "Besides, where would we have left them?"
"Side of the road is looking like a good option right now," Sam muttered, and then yelped as Stevie ‘accidentally’ elbowed him in the ribs. "Mom!"
"All right, all right, simmer down." His dad squinted at the rustic sign reading Camp Leonidas. “This is where we turn, right?”
“Yes, according to the directions.” His mom read from the brochure: “ Located on the beautiful Lake Respite, Camp Leonidas is a leader in athletic training for young men, with a singular focus on football, ” she blah-blah-blahed under her voice as she read further before making a surprised noise, “Oh, this is interesting. Funded by several wealthy patrons, many of whom have benefitted from the camp’s services, or seen the benefit second hand by their children, we are one of the nation's leading providers in scholarship programs. There’s a quote from Troy Worthington: This camp gave my children and grandchildren the opportunity to grow into the fine, upstanding young men they are today. It is an honor and a privilege to support their work. ”
“Camp helped, but I’m sure the million dollar allowance didn’t hurt,” His dad said quietly, face going stony for a moment. Sam watched his mom give his dad a confused look, and his dad finally shrugged, “The Worthington family owns the Cleveland Browns franchise. They’re billionaires.”
“Well, they’re also paying for Sammy to be here, so, maybe we don’t start feeling inadequate next to the family of generational wealth until we’re home?” his mom said with a pointed smile.
His dad drove slowly along the dirt roads, keeping an eye out for campers. Once the road widened to a parking area, he cut the engine and gestured to the crew. "Everyone out. We're going to drop Sam off, and then we're all going to go get lunch at Applebees. Does that sound good?"
Everyone muttered agreement, and Sam watched as his mom came around to open the doors. He'd been stuck between Stevie and Stacy the whole way here, and the idea of getting out felt like a literal blessing. He stretched his legs out, and took a slow lap around the car to take everything in.
It turned out Michigan didn’t look a lot different from Tennessee, at least not the part where they were staying. The trees were kind of the same, maybe taller and more with needles than leaves, but it felt like being in the woods at home. Sam could see the football field across from the cabins, and several larger buildings close to the parking lot. Most of the kids were still walking around with their parents and trying not to make eye contact, but he saw a few who offered friendly waves, and it made him relax a little more.
All of the buildings were made with old wood, giving everything that camp feeling, like in the movies that Sam was not allowed to watch when Stacy and Stevie were home, because of the guys with knives and hocket masks that tended to show up and murder everyone. He hesitated on the opposite side of the car as he glanced out across the lake. The light was hitting something on the other side, and it took him a moment to recognise it as another set of buildings, all glass and chrome from what he could see. Or maybe just with lots of mirrors. Whatever it was, it was too far away to make out any details beyond its existence, and the fact that a bunch of cars seemed to be pulling up there as well.
It was hard not to smile when he saw the sense of wonder in Stevie's eyes. Soon, his little brother would be off at camp himself—although, if Sam had any say about it, it wouldn’t be the same camp. He thought there should be some rule that said, if he was a good older brother the rest of the year, he’d get some time off in the summer to be cool and adventurous.
Other campers were already moving towards one of the bigger buildings. Sam took a step towards the trunk, when Stacy caught him around his waist, jolting him to a stop. He patted Stacy’s back, feeling the glasses in his pocket dig into his leg.
“I don’t want you to go,” she sniffled.
Stacy’s words were muffled against his hip. Sam tried not to feel guilty. “I won’t be gone long,” he assured, gently patting her back. “And then you can go back to complaining I’m hogging the TV, okay?”
She nodded, rubbing at her face. There was a moment before Stevie moved up and hugged him too. He leant down to return it, almost smiling before Stevie muttered, “I’m gonna touch all your stuff when you’re gone.”
“Mom!” Sam complained again, letting go of Stevie as he moved back towards the family.
“All right,” His dad handed him his bags. “You’ve got our numbers. If you need us, we can drive back, all right?”
“I’m gonna be fine,” Sam assured him, slipping the strap over his shoulder. “I promise.”
“We filled out all the paperwork already,” his mom added, handing him a messenger bag, “but if there’s more, you need to ask someone for help, all right? Where are your glasses?”
Sam opened his mouth, ready to argue that he didn’t need them, but his dad was giving him a look, so he pulled them out, and slipped them on. “Happy?” He ducked his head, hoping none of the other campers could see. Maybe his parents would be gone before he got to where everyone was meeting, and he could hide them in his pocket again.
“You look very handsome,” his mom patted his cheek, before she hugged him tight. “But you should keep them in a case so you don’t break them. Try to enjoy yourself, okay? We’re only a phone call away if you need us.”
His dad nodded to him, squeezing his shoulder before he started to herd Stevie and Stacy into the car. His mom lingered a moment longer, clearly wanting to stay. They’d agreed before they set off, they were dropping Sam off, and then going home. His dad had a meeting tomorrow, and it was a ten hour drive, more with Stacy’s constant need to pee. They couldn’t stay.
“You’ll be great,” she said after a moment, moving to hug him again. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom.” Sam mumbled, feeling his eyes prickle at the unsaid goodbye. He let her go, even if he wanted to hug her more, and watched as she climbed into the passenger’s side, the car starting moments later.
He managed to wait until they had driven around the bend, before his vision got blurry and he had to push the glasses up onto his forehead to wipe away the tears. He couldn’t be a wimp like this. He was one of the youngest ones here, and he needed to... he couldn’t be a wimp.
“Look, I just don’t get why you want to go to camp to play football all summer,” Puck said. He tossed the pool vacuum on Mrs. Richardson’s deck and climbed out of the water. “What’s wrong with what we did last year?”
“Dude, we talked about this.” Finn tried not to be too frustrated that Puck was trying to convince him again. It was nice to think he’d be missed, even if Puck’s way of going about it was insulting the idea of camp. “You can’t really play football with four guys. I don’t want to just mess around throwing passes and tackling each other; I want to get good.”
“But that’s the fun part of football. The rest is work.” Puck shook his head in disgust. “Fuck that. It’s summer. If I’m going to work, I’m going to be making money, not spending it.”
“I got a scholarship,” Finn muttered. He sat on the scratchy concrete of the pool deck, stretching out his legs. They were already so much longer than they had been last month. He was going to have to ask his mom for a third new pair of jeans. “Anyway, I’m up for varsity now, right? Time to stop playing around.”
Puck clearly didn’t like this idea either, but at least he stopped arguing about it. Finn helped him move the lawn chairs so Puck could finish power-washing the pool deck.
Puck brought it up again later, though, after he’d finished cleaning Mrs. Richardson’s pool and went back to Finn’s house. They made sandwiches and brought them outside to eat in the backyard.
“I just think there’s enough things that are going to change next year,” Puck said, still sounding annoyed. “And now you’re going to be gone all summer. That sucks.”
“You could come with me?” Finn suggested. “I mean, yeah, I’ll miss you too, but… it’s not like it’s the whole summer, right? I’ll be back in August, and then it’ll be you and me, just like before. Just like always.”
Puck accepted his fistbump grudgingly. “Well, when you get back, you’d better teach me all those fancy moves you learn. Even if I’m never going to choose to play on an actual football team, I still want to be able to run rings around those losers.”
“Never say never, dude.” He pointed a finger at Puck, who put up his hands and pretended to get shot. “I’m telling you, you’re trying out for varsity this fall.”
“Whatever you say, Maverick.” Puck snickered. “That’s about as likely as me signing up to sing with the choir. Bunch of homo sissies.”
Finn had to force a smile at that one, but he nodded. “Yeah, Ryerson’s a total creep.”
It wasn’t easy sometimes to know how much to go along with Puck’s joking and teasing when it turned mean, but Finn wasn’t sure what else he should do. Puck made everything into an argument, but most of the time, Finn just wanted to smooth things over and tell him, fine, think whatever you want, as long as you stop making it a fight.
“I feel kind of bad leaving Puck home by himself this summer,” he told his mom before heading to bed that night.
She smiled. “I think it’s okay for best friends to do things apart sometimes. You’ll have a summer full of football, and Puck will—” Her smile faded a little. “Well, I’m sure he’ll do… lots of things. And then you’ll see each other at school in the fall, and it’ll be like you never left.”
“Yeah, that’s what I told him.” He shook his head, grimacing at the memory of Puck’s bitter expression. “It’s not like I’m trying to leave him out. He just wants everything to be the way it was in eighth grade, and it’s not.”
He wanted to call Puck before bed and apologize, even though there was nothing to apologize for. He didn’t think he had the option to say, I don’t like the idea of being away from you any more than you do. In the end, he just didn’t say anything.
By the end of the first day at camp, Sam’s cabin still only had three people in it. There was Sam, and his roommate Aggie, which he said was short for Agamemnon but Sam guessed he was making that up. There was a shared bathroom connecting the two rooms. The adjacent room had Sean, the star running back from Findlay, Ohio, but the other bed in Sean’s room was empty.
They were starting to come up with options for what to do with it when their fourth camper finally arrived after dinner. Finn was tall, even taller than Sam’s dad, which was a little weird, but his smile was friendly.
“Finn and Sean, huh?” Sean said, nudging him. “Nice. We can sing Irish ballads around the campfire.”
“Sure,” Finn agreed. It didn’t seem to occur to him that Sean was teasing him, or maybe he didn’t care. Sam wondered what that would be like, not to worry about what other people thought.
Sam was ready to ask if there were actual bonfires, because that really did sound cool, when they heard footsteps on the porch steps. Sam glanced out of the door as a pair of guys approached Finn and Sean’s cabin and knocked on the doorframe. “Yo, Fretter! Are you coming to say hi to the cheerleaders?”
“I thought this was a football camp?” Sam turned to look at Aggie, who was shoving handfuls of clothes into his set of drawers with all the care of a concussed rhino. Sam knew his mom would have insisted Sam take them all out and start again, but he thought it was better not to point that out. “There are cheerleaders too?”
“Cheerleaders north, football south,” Aggie said, carelessly waving a hand in the direction of the lake. “Two camps, long history of rivalry. I’m sure you’ll hear the details at some point.” He looked Sam over in a way that made him feel very uncomfortable. “What about you? You interested in cheerleaders?”
“I mean... who doesn’t like cheerleaders?” Sam laughed, but it definitely came out more nervous than he expected, and he turned back towards his bag, taking out the shoes and slipping them under the bed frame.
There was some more noise outside, and then a sly voice echoed into the room. “Nonny! Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your new boyfriend?”
Sam opened his mouth to say something, he had no idea what, but Aggie let out a loud braying laugh that startled him even more. “Sam’s way too green for me. I think he needs to age a bit.” He gestured impatiently for Sam to follow, and when Sam stayed where he was, he just shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Finn was still standing in the doorway after Aggie and Sean left. He set down his duffel bag. “You’re not going to go with them?”
“Oh, I...” Sam gestured to his things. “I brought a lot of stuff. I mean, not a lot of stuff, but I don’t want them to decide we’re swimming tomorrow and I can’t find my shorts or something.” It was a weak excuse, and it hung in the air for a moment, “I’m Sam. I, uh, I think I said that. But, yeah. Sam.”
Finn smiled, still just as friendly. “Finn. It’ll take me a while to remember everybody’s name, but yours, I think I’ll remember.”
“Oh, because of Sam Wilson?” He watched Finn’s blank expression, and quickly added, “Or—something else.”
“Yeah, I was thinking Sam-I-Am. Like, Green Eggs and Ham.” He cocked his head, thinking. “Who’s Sam Wilson?”
“Uh…” He felt a little desperate, but he couldn’t just stop talking. “He’s a comic book character. Marvel. He’s the Falcon. My little brother loves comics.” He was pretty sure comics would never exactly be cool, but he didn’t think Stevie would mind him telling a little white lie about who the comic book fan was in their house.
“Comics can be fun,” Finn nodded, “I mean, I’ve got a friend back home who’s kind of a closet nerd. But he’s more into video games, Super Mario and stuff...” He trailed off, his smile dipping for a moment before it came back full force. “What, uh, what position do you play?”
“Quarterback. At least, that’s what I’m training for. I’ve got a pretty good arm, but I can run, too.” Sam realized, too late, he probably sounded like he was bragging, but Finn didn’t seem bothered. “How about you?”
“I don’t really play a position,” Finn admitted. “I mean, I’ve never played real football before, other than in gym class. Me and my friend, we used to play soccer.” Finn paused. “You want to unpack your stuff? I can leave you to it.”
“You don’t have to,” Sam answered quickly, zipping up the duffel. “It’s not going anywhere. I mean, I kind of thought about wandering around and trying to work out where everything is, but I can do that later if you want to hang out. Or, I mean, you might need to unpack too. If you do, that’s cool.” Inside, he was silently dying at the sheer amount of words coming out of his mouth. Finn seemed nice, and Sam didn’t want to scare him off by being way too much, right away. He should play it cool. “If you want to come by after you’re done, my mom packed me some chocolate? You’d be welcome to have some, before the ants and bugs get to it, and you could, uh… tell me about soccer.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. I should probably grab some closet space before Sean gets back though. I think he’s got more clothes than Nonny, and Nonny’s gay so, like...” Finn laughed, and Sam felt his stomach drop out at the casualness of the statement.
“I don’t think you should say that.”
“Oh, is it Aggie instead of Nonny?” Finn suddenly looked anxious, glancing over his shoulder, “I heard some guys calling him Aggie, but then Sean called him Nonny, so I thought—”
“I meant, it’s rude to call someone gay when you don’t know them,” Sam shrugged as casually as he could, turning back to his duffel so Finn couldn’t see the nervousness on his face. “I mean, how would you like it? ‘Do unto others as you’d have done unto you,’ and all that stuff, right?”
“I...” Finn blinked, as if surprised to be confronted. He probably was, because Sam was surprised that he’d managed to actually say something. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like a put-down... he is gay. He told me when I got here. I think he thought I was older, because—” he gestured above his head as if to emphasize how tall he was. “—but when I told him I’m a freshman, he made some joke about liking steak more than veal? I didn’t get it but, I mean, I’m kind of used to it. There’s this gay kid back home who… whatever, it doesn’t matter. I just didn’t mean it in a douchebag-y way.”
“Oh...” Sam stared at the zipper of his bag as he felt his face start to burn. Great. Not only had he not actually stood up for anyone, he’d just made the first guy who had been nice to him sound like a bad person. “Sorry.”
“No, I mean, you’re right. It sucks when people...” Finn shifted uncomfortably. “I think you’re right. But, like, you wanna be careful bringing it up. Because, people might start thinking you’re playing for their team?” He paused, then gestured over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go unpack. You can totally come and knock, if you finish early.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Sam smiled tightly, but he wasn’t feeling it anymore. He heard Finn walking away from the door, and looked at his bag. Suddenly, folding and putting his clothes away didn’t sound so appealing. He was careful not to let the screen door bang on his way outside, but he didn’t think he could be in that cabin any longer.
There was a wooden sign by the activity cabin that read Lake Respite, Trail - 3 mi. Sam had pictured himself walking around the lake, maybe talking and laughing with some friends; his imagination was hazy. Now, doing it alone seemed kind of pointless.
On the other hand, he could run three miles without too much trouble. He paused to stretch for a moment, then began a slow jog. It was easier to take the glances from other campers when he had a purpose. He passed a grove of pines, through which he could see what he figured must be the cheerleader camp Aggie-Nonny had mentioned, although he didn’t see or hear any cheerleaders. The path was smooth and flat and ideal for running, and he increased his pace.
By the time he made it around the other side, within sight of the football field, he was feeling better, but also sweatier. He wished he’d thought to change his button-up shirt before he left. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen some of the guys wearing tank tops, playing volleyball on a sand court further off the trail. It wouldn’t be weird to strip to his undershirt, he decided, unbuttoning the shirt and tucking it into the side of his pants. They were all guys, after all.
At one of the more wooded areas, he paused and stepped off the path, appreciating the cool shade. It wasn’t hard to pick his way through the underbrush, watching for poison ivy. Once he was surrounded by trees, he stopped and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly through his nose, enjoying the birdsong and general nature-y sounds.
“Someone’s missed me.”
He glanced around for the source of the voice. There was no one in clear view, but then a bush moved unnaturally, and Sam’s breath caught in his throat.
“Yeah, well, I thought we’d be rooming together again,” another voice added.
His tone was sultry enough for Sam to get the idea that... maybe he’d had enough of nature right now, if nature involved the sound of two guys’ voices in the woods, obviously doing something. He took a step back, but his foot landed on a twig, cracking loudly in the relative quiet, and the bush stopped rustling.
There was a beat, before someone called out suspiciously, “Hello?”
Sam didn’t answer, he just took off in the other direction. It wasn’t until he passed the football field that he paused, taking a few deep breaths. Then he noticed that his shirt wasn’t hanging from his waist anymore. For a brief moment, he considered going back for it, but he reluctantly gave up on that idea when he considered what might be going on in the underbrush.
He stopped outside their cabin, stretching out his legs and back. Then he saw Finn walking toward him from the other direction. He was carrying a box of something.
“Did you go running?” Finn paused a few feet away, looking impressed as he glanced Sam up and down. “Dude, you must work out, like, a lot.”
“Yeah, it’s... I mean, it’s diet as much as it is exercise, you know?” Sam shrugged, stretching his arm over his chest, and trying not to look like a guy who just heard two dudes getting intimate in a bush. “I like to work out, though. It’s soothing.”
That, at least, wasn’t bragging, but Finn was still watching him more closely than he was comfortable with. Then Finn held up the box. “Well, unless you’ve got something better to do, I went over to the dining hall and convinced the director to hand over some graham crackers. I brought marshmallows with me from home. So I figured, with your chocolate—”
“We’ve got everything we need for s’mores.” Sam couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. Finn seemed to relax a little at the smile, returning his own. Sam would have had to be blind not to notice how nice his smile was. “Assuming there’s a fire. I learned to make one in Boy Scouts, if we wanted to make these tonight.”
“Well, there’s a fire pit over by the lake,” Finn suggested. “If you don’t mind hanging out with everybody else. That’s cool you know how to start a fire, but I’d probably accidentally burn down half the forest.”
“Oh, yeah,” Sam said quickly, “I mean, I bet you wouldn’t but... we should hang out with everyone. And lots of water is probably good in case there’s any accidents, right?” He laughed, trying not to think about why he felt disappointed at the idea. It was because everyone else sucked, and Finn seemed like a cool guy. If there was another cool guy, he’d totally be fine with the three of them hanging out, right? “I don’t know if we’ll have enough for everyone, though.”
Finn’s smile became a little teasing. “Well, they’ll just have to get their own damn s’mores, right? These are just for us.”
“Yeah,” Sam grinned, ducking his head a little. He really had to try and play this more cool. “I’ve...got a little more unpacking to do, but we could meet by the pit when it gets dark?”
“Sounds good.” Finn handed the graham crackers to Sam. “Bring these when you come, okay?”
“And the chocolate.” Sam nodded, trying to look casual as he clutched the crackers against his chest. “I’ll... see you.”
He awkwardly turned on his heels, and started walking back towards the cabin, trying not to look back and see what Finn was doing next. The wood creaked under his feet as he jogged up the stairs, and he quickly let himself into his room, letting out a loud sigh of relief. That had been totally casual. He could do this hanging-out-and-talking-with-people thing.
Aggie—or was it Nonny? He was really going to have to ask him about his name, if he could figure out a way to do it without feeling too awkward—was reading a Variety magazine on his bed. He peeked around the cover as Sam began to dig into his luggage for his clothes.
“So are we going with the casual nudity?” he said. “Because I can be down with that.”
“Uh, no, I was running and I took off my...” Sam paused, facing the closet. There, on a hanger, was his lost shirt. He touched the sleeve before glancing over, but Aggie had already returned to his magazine. “Did you—?”
“I’m just saying, if you’re going to disrobe on the lake path, I can tell you the best places to hide.”
“Oh.” Sam turned back to the shirt, and then back to Aggie, not quite sure what to say, “I... uh, I heard you’re gay?”
“I heard you’re twelve,” Aggie looked over the pages with narrowed eyes. “Is this going anywhere? Or are you just trying to be annoying.”
“Sorry,” Sam turned back to the closet, and took a few hangers, moving back towards his bed trying not to look at Aggie as he went. He didn’t think this was the best time to correct Aggie that he was actually fourteen.
Aggie sighed loudly, and Sam tried not to flinch. “Yeah. I’m gay. You want me to beat the shit out of you now, before I get started on looking for a new roommate?”
“No! I mean, you don’t have to beat—anything.” He held his breath. “You’re the first gay guy I’ve ever met, actually. But it’s cool. It doesn’t bother me.”
Sam could feel Aggie’s eyes on the back of his neck for a long moment, and he wasn’t sure if he should turn around, or if it was one of those displays of dominance where eye contact would just escalate the situation.
“Fine.” Aggie finally spoke, and the magazine rattled. “And I’m definitely not. But go ahead and believe that if you want.”
“Gay?” Sam turned around, entirely confused.
“The first one you’ve met.”
Sam thought about that while he put away the rest of his clothing. There were people he’d met, at church and school, that he could maybe guess were gay, but he’d never actually asked them, so he could just be making that up. And Aggie, he never would have guessed about him, so maybe there were lots of other people like that? It was a baffling idea.
“All right,” Aggie finally spoke after a couple of minutes, obviously exasperated, dropping his magazine onto the bed and rolling his eyes, “You’re thinking so hard you’re giving me a headache. Go shower, you smell gross. I’m gonna... go be somewhere else.”
“Yeah,” Sam nodded, straightening up, “Me and—I mean, some of us are going to be at the fire pit later. If you want to hang out.”
He wasn’t sure if Aggie heard him. The door was already slamming before he finished speaking. At least Aggie had been right about one thing: he could definitely do with a shower before returning to polite society again.
“How do you make s’mores?” Finn whispered down the phone, looking around in a mild panic as he walked around the campfire. There was a disgusted noise on the other end of the phone, and Finn stopped, “Come on, you went to that camp that one year. You’ve got to have made them, right? I’ve made them, I just can’t remember—”
“I went to Jewish camp, Finn,” Puck sounded exasperated, “It was three days, and we barely went outside. Why don’t you call your girlfriend and ask her?”
“No, I can’t, Quinn said I shouldn’t bother her this summer. She’s got a thing. I’m gonna see her when I get back. I think she’d kill me if I called.”
“So, I’m... what, your back-up girlfriend?” Puck snorted. “No thanks. I’m way out of your league. Some of the football guys and the hockey guys invited me to this house party, and I’m gonna go to that.”
“Well, look it up or something!” He glanced at the path to the cabin to make sure Sam wasn’t on his way. “I really don’t want to look like an idiot.”
“Okay, okay. First thing you’re gonna need is a paper bag. Put that over your head. That’ll help with the ‘looking’ part, and you’re on your own for the rest.”
“Puck,” he groaned.
“Look, what do you care? Somebody else in that camp has got to know what to do with fucking graham crackers. Just ask.” He sounded suspicious. “Who are you trying to impress?”
“No one.” It was a lie, but there was no way that Puck wouldn’t make a big deal about him making a friend that wasn’t Puck, or at least Puck-approved. “Come on, you totally owe me one. Mr. Hummel totally thinks I helped with that lawn furniture incident, and I didn’t rat you out, so you owe me. Help.”
“I knew you were never going to let that go,” Puck said, completely disgusted. “Just… let me call you back. I’ll ask my Nana.”
Finn held the phone in his hands and smiled vaguely at other campers as they passed him on their way down to the fire, which was already crackling away by the shore of the lake. Puck would have taken one look at Sam and made some joke about the size of his lips or something. He wouldn’t appreciate how nice Sam was. Not fake-nice, like some guys were when grownups were around, but actually friendly. He’d been surprised by the graham crackers, too, like he knew how unusual it was for another guy to be friendly back. Finn didn’t want to take that for granted.
Not only was he nice, but Sam was so sure of himself, too. Finn thought being the quarterback would be pretty cool, but there was no way he’d know how to be in charge of the whole team. Sam had spoken so confidently, though, and he was new to football at his school. Maybe that meant it wasn’t a lost cause for him to bring it up back at McKinley. It wasn’t like last year’s quarterback had won a bunch of games. He wouldn’t want to do it here, though, because that would put him in competition with Sam.
He was still thinking about that when he heard someone start to laugh uproariously. He lifted his head, turning to look, as Sam rolled to a stop at the bottom of an incline, his body curled around something. One of the older guys who was sitting at the opposite side of the fire cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled over, “Nice footwork, Blondie!”
While they hooted more laughter, Finn walked over to Sam. He held out a hand to help him up. “You okay? That was a pretty good recovery.”
“I think I saved the crackers,” Sam mumbled. He uncurled, revealing the crackers in one hand and chocolate in the other. His glasses had been knocked entirely off-kilter, and it took him a beat to manage to work out how to move everything to one hand and take Finn’s with the other. The shirt he was wearing had probably been clean and ironed, but now he just looked rumpled and somewhere between embarrassed and annoyed. He offered Finn a small smile. “Hills are one of my many weaknesses.”
“Luckily, no hills in football.” Finn tucked the box of crackers under his arm, hoping Sam wouldn’t ask about the s’mores before Puck called him back. “There’s a spot on the other side of the fire, but it’s kind of smoky.”
“I’m fine wherever you want to sit,” Sam nodded. “I mean, the only other person I know is Aggie and he’s... probably busy. Again.” Something about that seemed to embarrass Sam a little, if the slight blush was anything to go by.
“Yeah, Sean disappeared a couple of hours ago and I haven’t seen him since.” He settled on the log below the smoke drifting toward them from the fire. Some other guys had long sticks and were toasting marshmallows. In a flash, Finn remembered how to put together a s’more. He leaned over to one of the other guys. “Hey, could I borrow one of those sticks when you’re done?”
“Yeah, here you go,” one of the guys shrugged, pulling off the marshmallow on his stick and handing it towards Finn. “Coach’d have my ass if he saw me eating this stuff anyway.”
As soon as he was done talking, his friends started to rib him, jostling him around, and it became pretty obvious that they had lost all interest in what Finn and Sam were doing. Finn looked at the lone stick. “Do you want to go first? I mean, I’ve been looking forward to it, but it’s your chocolate, so...”
Sam touched the forked end of the stick. “I bet if you were careful you could toast two at a time. You want to do that, and I’ll get the graham crackers ready?”
Finn decided he wasn’t going to admit how clumsy he was, and just hoped he wouldn’t drop all the marshmallows in the fire. He managed to spear one on each sharpened end, then gingerly held the stick out, close enough to the coals to toast them but far enough away that the marshmallows didn’t go up in flames.
“You want it more or less crispy?” he asked Sam.
“That looks good. Here—” Sam held out the half-crackers with a square of chocolate, then trapped one of the marshmallows between them to make a gooey sandwich. “Sweet. Hold this while I do the next one.”
Finn watched as Sam quickly grabbed the next set of crackers and chocolate, blinking at the half-piece before Sam squeezed it together. “I only get half a piece of chocolate?”
Sam looked confused. Finn immediately clamped his mouth shut as the rudeness of his own words hit him, but then Sam shook his head quickly, his eyes going wide. “No, no, that one’s for you; this one’s for me. If I put in half the chocolate, I can eat twice as many before I start feeling guilty.”
Finn’s first reaction was you sound like my girlfriend, but that was definitely not what he was going to say. “Dude, you look like you must work out all the time. What are you worried about?”
“Everything in moderation, right?” Sam shrugged. “Besides, you’ve never seen me crash out on sugar. It’s a mess. You really want to make Aggie deal with that?”
“Well, this can be our pre-season celebration, before we’re forced to give it up.” He held up his s’more in the air, like a toast, and Sam mirrored him. “Here’s to… I don’t know, things we want that are bad for us.”
“You never know until you try them,” Sam grinned, and then took a bite of his s’more. He let out a soft groan, almost definitely exaggerated, and then took another. “Perfect.”
There was a long moment, maybe two, before Finn realised he was staring and hadn’t bit into his own s’more. He quickly shoved the whole thing into his mouth and chewed determinedly. Sam didn’t comment on it, but Finn was quickly searching for conversation topics in his head, trying to ignore the slight tingle of the burning marshmallow in his mouth.
“So,” he managed to say, his hand in front of his mouth to avoid spraying crumbs at Sam while he talked, “where are you from?”
“Nashville. Tennessee.” Sam set the box of crackers and chocolate on the ground next to Finn’s bag of marshmallows. “At least for now. My dad’s looking for a job in—” He paused. “Uh, I think your pocket is vibrating.”
Finn blinked, reaching for his pocket before he suddenly became aware of how sticky his hand had gotten. He tried to wipe it on his shirt, immediately seeing his mom’s mildly frustrated look in his mind, but by the time he had pulled the phone out, it had stopped ringing. He could see Puck’s missed call, and his thumb hovered over the dial button, but he glanced back to Sam who was politely turned a little away from him, examining his s’more with an attention that felt strangely lonely.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket, and after a moment Sam looked his way. “Everything okay?”
“I’ll call him back later,” Finn shrugged. “I’m from Ohio. Tennessee, that’s cool. You got a girlfriend waiting for you back home? Family?”
Sam hesitated long enough for Finn to think maybe he was being a little nosy. “I’ve got a little brother and sister. Me and my folks, we’re pretty close. How about you?”
“Just me and my mom.” He almost mentioned Quinn before he thought better of it. Talking about his girlfriend would just sound like bragging, especially if Sam didn’t have a girlfriend too.
The fire crackled in the quiet after the question. Finn watched as Sam finished his s’more, and started laying out the crackers and chocolate to make more, biting his lip in concentration as he did. It was kind of cute, even if Finn would never say something like that out loud.
“You ever been to a bowl game?” Sam suddenly burst out. “My dad got us tickets for the Outback Bowl in 2008, we got to watch the Vols cream the Badgers...” His enthusiasm almost sent the crackers tumbling off his leg, but Finn leaned across and caught them, and Sam abruptly stopped talking, glancing away.
“No, no, it’s cool.” Finn gestured, “I’ve got this. That’s awesome you got to go to the Outback Bowl. You hear about Erik Ainge getting busted for drug use? He was a great quarterback.”
There was a moment of suspicion in Sam’s eyes as though he was waiting for something. Then he took a breath, and smiled. “Yeah, but the Jets, they drafted him, and they let him back on the team last December...”
He started to pick up a little speed, but somehow Finn felt like it was the perfect accompaniment to the fire, along with the delicate art of s’mores making. He’d call Puck in the morning.
The first night around the bonfire was really nice. Sticky fingers and the crackle of the fire brought back a lot of Sam’s early camping memories, and Finn didn’t seem to care when he got excited about something and let his mouth run for a little too long. Aggie and Sean showed up part way through, Sean sitting next to Finn and not really paying him much attention, while Aggie chatted with a couple of the other campers on Sam’s other side. Meanwhile, Finn kept putting the s’mores together with brain-surgery level focus, offering them to Sam or eating them way too quickly. He didn’t seem to run out of attention for anything Sam had to say. It could have felt like a lot of people, but being there with Finn made it easy. Sam definitely went to bed with a smile on his face that night.
He woke up abruptly the next morning, with no smile on his face, and somebody blasting an airhorn outside his window.
“Rise and shine, losers,” called a voice from outside, banging on their door. “Warmups on the field in ten. And don’t bother to eat anything, you’d just puke it up. Breakfast after.”
Sam realized Aggie was already dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. He struggled to sit up. “No breakfast? That doesn’t sound right.”
“Lucas’s just pretending he has any authority at all. It makes him feel better about his tiny dick.” Aggie waved a vague hand. “Eat a granola bar or something.”
Sam bit down on the urge to point out that the website said that meals would be provided. He might be right, but it would definitely sound like whining. He moved to the drawer he’d put them in, and then paused. The pack of a dozen granola bars his mother had given him had definitely been closed when he put them in here, but now it was open and he could see where one was missing.
“Better not be late, Sammy,” Aggie called as he walked past, a half-eaten granola bar in hand. “And try and put on all your clothes this time.”
“I wasn’t—” Sam started to call out after him, but it was a lost cause. Aggie was already jogging away from the stairs to catch up with Finn and Sean. Sam let out a measured breath. He wasn’t going to take it personally that nobody had waited for him. They were all just in a rush.
It felt like something was in his shoe, but he didn’t stop to take it off until he was by the sidelines. Hopping on one foot in the wet freshly-cut grass, he dumped out his sneaker to discover three guitar picks.
“What the heck?” he muttered.
Sean nudged the pieces of plastic with the toe of his shoe. “What are those?”
“Guitar picks?” Finn whispered. “You know, for strumming?”
“Gentlemen?” Their coach was approaching. He indicated the picks, which Sam was now holding. “What’s more important than football this morning?’
“Nothing, sir,” Sam said, closing his fist around the guitar picks. He wished his running shorts had a pocket.
The tall guy, Lucas, snickered. “Maybe he can hide them in his mouth, like a chipmunk.” He blew out his cheeks, until the coach’s eyes flicked to him and he quickly went silent.
“Whatever it is, set it by the bench, Evans, and let’s get to work.”
Finn paused beside him. “I’ve got a pocket in my sleeve,” he said, showing him. “You want me to hang on to them? Like, if they’re important?”
Sam felt a flush of warmth, and smiled as he shook his head. “Seriously, no, I’ve got, like, eight million guitar picks. I just don’t know why they were in my shoe.”
Finn nodded. “That’s happened to me with, like, pennies and stuff, when I’ve thrown them in my bag, and they turned up in random places.”
He looked like he wanted to talk more, but someone was blowing a whistle, and Sean appeared to pull him away. Sam quickly set the picks down on the ground where he thought he might find them again, and not really seeing any rhyme or reason to the way people were split up, started to jog towards Aggie in the smaller group.
“Not showing off, like Fretter and Hudson?” Aggie asked as he stretched out his arms, and Sam watched as the larger group burst into a dead sprint around the track. “Thought showing off was your thing.”
“No,” Sam rolled his eyes a little, watching as Finn’s long legs gave him a minor lead for a few moments. “Showing off? What’re we supposed to be doing? What are they all doing?”
“They’re running laps to warm up, because they’re idiots who want to prove how fast they are. We, on the other hand, are stretching out and preserving our energy for PACER.” Aggie watched Sam for a moment and snorted at the blank look Sam was sure he was giving him, “MSFT? Y’know, the one where you’ve got two points about 15 meters apart, and you’ve got to get from one side to the other, and back, between the beeps? And it gets —” Aggie waved his hand. “Whatever. You’ll work it out. Just try not to puke on me, all right?”
“I really hope I don’t puke on anyone, ” Sam muttered, looking around at the other guys. He knew everyone at camp was older than him, but suddenly that felt concerning. “Do you know a lot of these guys? I mean, are you friends?”
“Two separate questions, Sammy.” Aggie tutted. “I know them. They’re all assholes. I mean, the guys who are running in a circle because they want to show off are assholes too, but these guys? Competitive assholes. They’re gonna run until they drop, so that the coach thinks they’ve got potential. Me? I just like getting this bullshit out of the way upfront.” He gestured towards the track where the others were still running. Finn had dropped back to somewhere near the middle of the pack. “Those guys’ll have to do it, too, but they’ll already be tired.”
Sam frowned. “Who’s to say you don’t have potential? You’re fast, you’ve got dexterity.”
“Sammy, you’re not gonna sweet talk me.” Aggie rolled his eyes. “And where do you get off knowing words like dexterity ? Aren’t you a dumb jock like the rest of us?”
“No, it’s because—” Sam cut himself off, which just made Aggie stare at him harder, like he could read his mind.
“Tell,” he demanded.
“Uh, I was in the D&D club.” Sam whispered as quietly as he could, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. “I played a paladin. Dex was my dump stat—”
“Oh my god.” Aggie ran a hand over his face. “Just… stop talking. Stick with the dumb jock.”
“I mean, D&D can be really cool, if you...”
Sam’s attempt to claw back some dignity was cut off by the piercing tones of a whistle, and Aggie slapped his shoulder before jogging over to where everyone else was lining up. The people who had been running laps moved to join them too, obviously already out of breath. That didn’t look like it was going to do them any good in this test. Sam felt a little guilty, like he was getting an unfair advantage over them. He followed a little more sedately, looking over the other people lined up. The ones who had been stretching out with Aggie all seemed to be taking it pretty seriously, some of them even doing the three point stance. Lucas glared at Sam until he fixed his own stance.
“Gentlemen,” called the guy standing in front of them. He was definitely older than high school, but probably not a lot older. He had more than a day’s worth of stubble that might be an attempt to look cool, Sam wasn’t sure. “I’m Coach Tyler, and I’ll be placing you into positions later this week. Until then, it’s your job to impress me. We all know you’re hot shit where you come from. Well, here, the standards are different, and chances are, you’re not going to make the cut.”
Sam straightened a little, taking a deep breath. He’d be happy no matter what position they asked him to play, and he’d give his best, but QB was his goal. Sam knew every guy wanted to be the guy in charge, the guy calling the plays. It was clear he’d have a lot of competition, but he was going to do his best, and even if he didn’t get it this year, it’d give him a better shot next year.
“When I hit this button, the first test begins,” Coach Tyler went on. “You get to those cones before the next beep. You do not leave those cones until you hear the beep, at which point you’ll run your sorry asses back to these cones. You will get there before the beep, you will not leave until the beep. Rinse, repeat, until you regurgitate. Or, until you don’t make it in time, but this is not a choice. You better be literally dying not to make it. Are we clear?”
There was a lot of mumbled assent. Sam was a little surprised Coach Tyler didn’t ask them to speak up.
Finn looked like he might be ready to puke already. “This is stupid,” he whispered to Sam. “Half of us just ran laps. If we’d known there was a test, we wouldn’t have gone all out.”
“Aggie said it’s just a thing we have to get through,” Sam said, but he didn’t feel any better about it. “You think we should complain?”
“What?” Finn shook his head. “No. It’s not worth making a big deal about it.”
It occurred to Sam, as he did his best to pace himself through each lap around the cones, that Finn was trying to be friendly. He wondered how he could communicate to Finn how much he appreciated that, without making a big deal about it.
Already there were more than a few guys who’d dropped out and were standing on the side, winded and gasping. Sam was barely breaking a sweat, but he wasn’t running as fast as he could go, either.
“Let’s pick it up, boys,” the coach called, clapping as the tone sounded. Several of them were barely halfway between the cones and turned with a groan. “I want to see some movement.”
Sean was the first one from their cabin to drop out. Sam watched him reach the cones on one end and walk away with his hands in the air, his face red with exertion. A moment or two later, Finn walked away too, offering Sean a fist-bump. He probably hadn’t wanted to be the first to drop out, Sam thought as he started again. That round he almost missed the beep, barely getting his foot over the line, and he shook off the distraction. He could do better. He could keep going.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Now Coach Tyler sounded approving. “You, what’s your name—Evans. Keep it up.”
Sam flashed him a smile as he pivoted at the next tone, but he felt the smile vanish when he saw two seniors glaring and whispering.
He faintly heard the track say something about twelve years old , when he heard a voice yell from the sideline, “You’re gonna let a guy in middle school beat you, Paulie?” Sam blinked away some of the tunnel vision, and realised there were only four or five people still running beside him—and they looked like they were only running out of sheer spite.
He got over the line, and turned to run again when he heard the jeers. It took him a moment to realize they weren’t aimed at him, but at the other competitors who were losing to him. He took a couple more steps, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore.
The break in concentration made him more aware of other things too, like the way his tongue suddenly felt too big for his mouth, or how his lungs were burning. He managed to stumble over to where Aggie was sitting, but his attempt to get to the ground ended with him half sprawled on the ground. Gravity felt much, much heavier, and he just... needed a minute. An hour. A long weekend somewhere.
“Well, that was totally stupid of you.” He tilted his head to see Aggie frowning at him. Aggie held out a water bottle. “Here. Drink it slowly.”
“I’m used to the heat,” Sam said, sipping from the bottle, then spilling some into his hand and wiping it over his face. “Why was it stupid?”
“Because, now everybody knows you’re the one to beat. You’ve got thirty-nine opponents now. Nobody’s going to take direction from you, even if you do get tapped for QB—which you won’t, because you’re twelve.”
“What’s the point in doing anything at all, if you’re not going to try your best?” Sam managed to shift to face Aggie. “I mean, shouldn’t we all want the QB to be the best possible player? Even if you don’t like him?”
He could see Finn and Sean sitting together on the sidelines about five yards away, talking and smiling together. For no reason at all, that made him feel worse than the jeers from the other boys. He realized Aggie was talking to him.
“What did you say?”
“I said if you think that’s how football works, you’ve got a lot to learn. It’s a popularity contest first.” Aggie nudged Sam’s ankle with his toe. “Think of it like politics. Nobody’s going to elect you president if you don’t win them over.”
The track cut off abruptly, and there were cheers from the rest of the crowd as the final two runners collapsed onto the grass. After a moment of recovery, they shook hands. Everyone seemed ready to move in and congratulate them, but Sam could see Coach Tyler moving around the periphery, marking something on his clipboard.
“I don’t think that’s right,” he said as he got to his feet. “You should be popular because you’re good. People shouldn’t assume you’re going to be good just because you’re popular.” He took a couple of unsteady steps towards the Coach, and then managed to straighten up.
“Where are you even going?” Aggie muttered, trying to grab at his ankle, but Sam stepped out of the grip. He lifted his head high, and walked as calmly as he could through the crowd, not intentionally bumping anyone but not making an attempt to walk the long way around.
“Coach Tyler?” he called, once he was close enough.
The Coach looked up with a bemused smile. “Evans. Good attempt out there. Ignore what those guys were saying, you’re better than half of them, all right?”
“Thank you, Coach.” He came to a stop, folding his hands behind his back like he was standing at attention, or maybe at ease? He could never remember the difference and—he needed to cut off the distractions before he started babbling out loud. “I know that I didn’t get to the end of the test, but I’d like you to consider me for the quarterback position. I’m younger than everyone, I know, but that means I’m going to be at camp for the next four years, probably, including this one. Gives me more time to learn, and to get better, and I’m already good. I’m a hard worker, I’m dedicated, and I want to put in the work that the position needs.” He tried not to wince as he said work a second time. Maybe it counted as two different words. Work and worker. No. Focus. “I’m up for the task. So... I hope you consider me.”
Coach Tyler was standing listening to him talk with a wide smile. At the end, he laughed, then patted his shoulder, not like he was a kid, but like he’d said something amazing. “That’s the kind of attitude we need, kid. I’ll think about it.”
The moment of elation only managed to last a few moments, as Coach Tyler wandered towards someone else, making more notes on his clipboard, before there was a snort from somewhere over Sam’s shoulder.
“Oh, pwease, Mister Coach Sir. Can I be the super special boy?” Lucas sneered, holding his chest like he was begging. “I’m just so pwecious.”
Aggie gestured at Lucas with a flourish, like he was on display. “Aaaand that’s my cue. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He rolled his eyes one more time and wandered in the direction of the water cooler.
Meanwhile, Finn approached him, looking nervous. “I don’t think that was the best move,” he said under his breath.
“Not you, too?” Sam glared at him.
Finn took a step back. “I’m just trying to help.”
“Well, maybe I’m doing fine on my own,” Sam snapped, “I’m not a kid! I earned my place here just as much as anyone else, and you’re... you’re not helping. So—go away until you are helping, Hudson.”
“Careful, Finn,” Lucas laughed, putting a hand on Finn’s shoulder, “you know what boys like Sam are like. They get cranky when they haven’t had a nap, or their bottle.”
“Very original.” Sam watched Finn’s eyes flicker toward Lucas, then back to Sam, and finally to the ground. He tried not to feel too disappointed. Finn was just another guy, after all. There was no reason to expect him to be any different from the others.
For the rest of the practice, Sam ignored everyone else and did his best to give his 110%. Several times he caught Coach Tyler nodding as he watched him pass or recover a fumble. He took a grim satisfaction in knowing he was impressing at least the person who mattered the most. Friends were important, but nothing was more important than winning.