Work Text:
It was a good day. Chuck, Roger, and Shorty were enjoying it. Days like this after practice, when is was just him and his friends talking and messing around were always nice. Chuck himself felt extremely ready for the week. They’d won at Poughkeepsie, they were getting ready for their next race, and life was good.
But of course, it had to be ruined by Varsity, because as always, Varsity was a bag of dicks.
“I want to tell me for the love of God and all things holy, why this fight started?”
Coach Ulbrickson looked very, very stressed. Chuck almost wished he was yelling at them rather than whatever this was. Chuck was used to yelling. This just made him squirm uncomfortably in his seat as he held the cloth to his bloody nose that still ached each time he breathed.
He glanced over at Roger and Jim, each sporting similar injuries. Chuck ignored the glare of the three other Varsity boys, all three equally injured if not worse. Chuck liked to think he broke Dunn’s nose, but he could only dream.
“Boys?” Ulbrickson repeated, his patience sounding like it was wavering.
Of course, no one fessed up. At least the older boys maintained some morals. Chuck sunk deeper into his chair, trying his best to avoid Ulbrickson's gaze.
Then after a painful moment, one of the senior boys spoke.
“Day started it.”
“You piece of shit!”
They all started yelling, although no fists were thrown this time. Instead only insults and chaos, and Chuck learned that Shorty had quite the mouth on him.
“EVERYONE BE QUIET!”
Chuck stilled as soon as he heard the volume at which Ulbrickson spoke. He didn’t know he could get that loud. He’d thought he heard Ulbrickson's peak volume during practice, but he was wrong in that regard.
“Varsity, leave me alone with them,” Ulbrickson instructed. “Don’t go far, I’m talking to you three right after.”
Chuck didn’t bother watching as they mumbled and left. Chuck, still set in the middle of Shorty and Roger, watched as Ulbrickson nursed a headache, leaning back in his chair. Once the door was closed and it was the coach and JV boys, he looked up at the three with his arms crossed.
“Well, did you?”
Chuck realized he was talking to him. “Did I what?”
“Start it?”
Chuck’s heart raced, immediately worried about his spot on the boat. He looked over at Shorty, who just shrugged ever so slightly. He had a black eye forming from getting nicked there by one of the Varsity boys.
“Day, I want to say your seat is safe, but if it’s true and you hit him first for no reason, then I don’t know what to tell you.”
Chuck shuffled in his seat. He couldn’t lose his seat, he couldn’t afford it. But he also didn’t want the boys next to him to lose it because he technically did throw the first punch. Fuck.
Ulbrickson sighed and leaned forward. “You boys aren’t idiots, even though you seem to be trying very hard to make me believe otherwise. I know the stakes for JV is bigger than Varsity. So, for the love of God, please tell me something so I won’t have to kick you all off?”
It was enough for Chuck to realize he had to come clean. Besides, Varsity would tell the truth anyway.
“I did,” he admitted. “Roger and Shorty just followed along cause they hit back, they shouldn’t get in trouble.”
“Chuck-”
“That’s not true!”
“Hush,” Ulbrickson said. He sighed again and tiredly lit a cigarette from his pocket, taking a deep drag. If Chuck wasn’t so afraid for his spot, he would have made a comment about the hypocrisy. “Why?”
That, Chuck was hoping he wouldn’t ask. He didn’t want to start something, and besides, then Chuck was afraid that the self-defense argument for Roger and Shorty wouldn’t work.
“They were mouthing off.” Chuck shrugged. “I got annoyed. Simple as that.”
“It’s not, though,” Shorty said, and Chuck gave him a stern look. Of course, Shorty did not. He looked from Chuck to Ulbrickson.
“Listen, they were mouthing off, but we just took it,” Shorty began, his rational taking over. Chuck wanted to shut him up. “We’re used to it at this point, and it was all in good fun. Then they…over-did it.”
Chuck looked down at his hand from embarrassment. He hated this, he felt like he was in Junior High again and he hit a boy who talked to his long-time crush. He was in principal offices enough time as a kid that he had the scars on his hands from the rulers to prove it.
“Okay, that’s not enough for me to protect Chuck’s seat. What did they say?”
Chuck found his shoes suddenly very interesting.
Roger spoke up next. “Well, it’s more like who they were mouthing off about.”
Chuck wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Maybe he’d drown himself during practice if he didn’t get kicked off the team.
Ulbrickson stared at them. “Elaborate.”
A moment of silence, some more staring at the ground, then Shorty’s voice.
“Well, you see, Coach…”
Well would you looky here, it’s the boys that stole the Olympic spot from us!”
Chuck heard some wolf whistles and laughter coming from the corner of the locker room. They’d just ended practice, most of JV now gone, as well as Varsity. Shorty, Roger, and himself have been given “clean out the towel bin” duty since it was their turn, and the three varsity boys just hung back for some reason.
Chuck rolled his eyes but grinned all the same. There had come some sort of camaraderie between the two boats, even though some resentment lingered. They tended to mouth off to each other, so Chuck was already prepared with a response.
“Yeah, well next time you bring home gold, give me a call.”
The boys laughed, Shorty and Roger joining in.
“Yeah, and by the way,” Roger began. “Your stroke was looking a little weak out there today, you getting enough rest, Dunn?”
Dunn rolled his eyes, taking the bate. “You worry about your hairline and I’ll worry about my stroke.”
Chuck couldn’t help but cackle at the comment, as did Shorty. He slapped Rogers back as he glared at Dunn.
“Speaking of stroke,” said the other guy, Dillon, Chuck thought. “How is The Mute.”
Chuck's smile faltered slowly. For a moment, all he was was confused.
Dillon’s face fell like he’d just revealed something he wasn't supposed to. The lighthearted vibe quickly disappeared as the comment was made. Chuck thought a moment, then he remembered the first thing he’d ever said to Don Hume.
“You’re not a mute, are you?”
Really, Chuck knew who they were talking about immediately, but the casualness of the nickname made Chuck feel a certain way he couldn’t explain. Shock, maybe anger, either way, no one got to call Don that. Especially not Varsity.
“Excuse me?” Chuck asked. Both Roger and Shorty had similar expressions on their faces now.
The Varsity boys all looked at each other. Dunn shoved Dillon’s shoulder like he just exposed a secret they kept from their parents.
“Don, I mean,” Dunn said, trying to recover. He chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry boys, it’s just a nickname we gave the kid. He doesn’t say much of anything, in case you haven’t noticed. It’s just a joke.”
Chuck did notice, and it didn’t feel like a joke. Not from them. The one who hadn't said anything was laughing quietly, attempting to cover his face with his hand.
“Yeah, I mean, kid’s never said a damn word to me. Got me thinking somethings wrong in the, you know.” Dillon tapped his head, a grin on his face. Chuck looked at Roger, whose nose switched.
“He talks,” Shorty confirmed. “Just not to assholes.”
His tone had taken on something darker, less lighthearted. The Varsity boys seemed to pick up on that, their demeanors changing very suddenly. Chuck wanted to say something back, but Roger interrupted.
“Come on, boys. Teams waiting for us.”
Chuck was thankful for his interference, although he heard the anger in his voice. Chuck could take a lot of chirping from Varsity, but he was starting to feel defensive. He was afraid to do something he’d regret, so he allowed Roger to lead him and Shorty out of the room.
“I got a question,” Dunn said before they could leave.
Chuck paused. So did the other. They turned, Dunn watching them with his arms crossed.
“Is it all an act to get girls?” Dunn asked. Chuck felt his hand twitch, resisting the urge to ball it into a fist. “I know girls like a mystery. Or is he really a Mute?”
“Stop calling him that, asshole.”
This time Roger spoke. The insult didn’t seem to fly with Varsity. The tension in the room only got more suffocating, Chuck becoming ansty and angry all at once. Dunn narrowed his eyebrows, clearly feeling the same way. Then he smiled, huffing out a patronizing laugh.
“Calling him what? Mute?” he asked.
The other two laughed as well, and Chuck gave up resisting the urge to ball his fist. He’s sure his knuckles were white now.
The other friend who’s yet to say something said, “What I’d give to hear the Mute talk.”
“Is that not what he is?” Dunn said, ignoring him and speaking to Roger. “Or is he just stupid?”
Chuck took a step forward, but Shorty stopped him with a soft hand on his arm. It was a weak attempt to stop Chuck, but he listened. Even he could tell Shorty was moments away from losing his perpetual cool.
Dunn looked at Chuck this time, a smile on his face Chuck wanted to wipe off. “Varsity should pay Mute a visit,” he said, turning to his friend. “Make him say something then-”
Chuck’s fist connected with his nose as he was turned away. A of pain sprouted in his knuckle, then his own nose when someone’s fist collided with it.
It only got more violent after that.
Ulbrickson stared at them with an expression Chuck wasn’t sure how to read. After Shorty gave the long-winded explanation of what happened, an unbearable silence overtook the room. It was the truth and the whole truth and left Chuck time to think about what he’d done.
Chuck punched a senior in the face because he was about to threaten Don Hume.
The painful silence left Chuck feeling a mix of embarrassment, shame, and fear. With the truth no out there, Chuck doubted he was keeping his seat, but at least Roger and Shorty’s spots were safe.
Finally, Ulbrickson spoke. “So it was in defense?”
Chuck looked up, making sure he heard him right. He looked at Shorty and Roger, both of whom seemed just as surprised.
“Coach?” Shorty asked.
Ulbrickson sighed, leaning ever so slightly forward. “By the sound of it, three senior boys threatened an underclassman, and you hit him in defense and out of loyalty to a friend and teammate?”
When he put it like that, it sounded much better than ‘Chuck hit a guy who bad-mouthed his buddy’. But it was also the truth, and even the varsity boys couldn’t lie about that. Besides, obviously, Ulbrickson thought something was off anyways. Chuck liked to think he’d proven to his coach over the past year that he was more than just an angry kid.
“Um…yes,” Chuck replied, more confident in his answer this time around.
“Hm.” Ulbrickson stood, the boys following suit when it appeared their time here was over. “I will have to punish you boys somehow; even though it was in defense of a teammate, you still can't go around hitting people in the face.”
Chuck laughed sheepishly. His bleeding, aching nose agreed with his coach.
“Hunt and Morris.”
Both boys stood straighter, ready for their punishment.
“You two will help Pocock with his boats for the next month after practice.”
The boys both sighed, but took their punishment. Chuck found himself laughing, knowing Joe wouldn’t like his favorite after-practice activity being taken from him because they got into a fight.
“And Day.”
Chuck stood straight, ready to be taken off his seat for a while. While he prayed it wasn't permanent, he hesitated to even hope for that.
“You will be cleaning up the locker room for the rest of the month. Alone.”
Although Chuck was sure he would hate Ulbrickson for it later, all he could do was prevent himself some breaking into a stupid grin, eternally grateful he didn’t take his seat away from him. He nodded at his coach, a tight, relieved smile on his face.
“Thank you, Coach.”
Ulbrickson nodded back, waving them off as he stepped around his desk. “Go to the nurse and get those injuries checked out. And Chuck.”
Chuck stopped on his way out, looking back at Ulbrickson.
“Learn how to throw a punch better. You need your hands to row.”
Chuck smiled, nodding his head. “Got it, Coach.”
“Okay, get out.”
The three JV boys opened the door, the new smiles on their faces confusing the Varsity boys as they passed them on the stairs. Chuck did the mature thing and ignored them, but he allowed himself to grin happily when he heard the tail-end of Coach already ripping them a new one.
To Chuck’s surprise, at the bottom of the stairs, the entire team stood waiting in their regular clothes, all looking at the three of them with concerned expressions. Bobby, upfront, was already tipping Chuck’s chin back to look at his nose.
“The fuck, Day,” Bobby said, inspecting his nose. He let go of Chuck, crossing his arms as he stood with the gaggle of equally confused and concerned boys behind him “Mind telling us why we heard you three knuckleheads decided to fight varsity?”
“Did you get good licks in?” Jim asked.
“I heard you broke Dunn’s ugly nose,” Johnny added. “That true?”
“Are you okay?”
They all looked towards the quiet voice, eyes landing on Don, standing not too far away from Bobby. He looked genuinely worried about them, his signature frown paired with narrowed eyebrows as he stared at the bleeding and beat-up boys. He was so genuine, that it doused Chuck’s simmering anger he hadn’t realized was still at the surface.
Chuck decided then and there he wouldn’t tell them the whole truth of what happened. He’d tell them the Varsity boys were mouthing off and took it too far, but he wouldn’t tell them what they said about Don. If he did, some of the boys might want to take their own action, and Don would feel guilty that they fought over something he would consider as trivial as a rude comment.
Because unlike most of them, Don was good in almost every aspect of the word.
Chuck grinned, waving his hand. “Ah, Varsity were being dicks, as usual. It’s all good though, Coach said we were in the right.”
“Mhm,” Bobby questioned, eyebrow raised. “Just don’t go fighting Varsity again, you dimwit. Can't be losing seats now.”
“You worry too much, Bobby,” Chuck said, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Like a mother hen.”
“Oh, shove it,” Bobby replied, throwing his arm off him. “Just don’t want to work with some other snotty-nosed freshman. Go get that nose checked out, looks like it’s starting to swell.”
“Yeah, you can't ruin the money-maker, Day,” Gordy said.
“Looks like Shorty’s too late,” Joe said, examining Shorty’s eye. Shorty laughed and shoved him while Jim and Johnny were now inspecting Roger’s bleeding lip.
Although they didn’t need to, the whole team walked together to the nurse's office, Shorty and Roger recounting (and maybe fibbing a little) about the fight with the seniors. Chuck found himself with his hands in his pockets falling behind. He almost didn’t notice when Don appeared next to him, hands also in his pockets.
“You really okay?” he asked, concern lining his voice.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Chuck replied sincerely. He watched Don’s face as it relaxed slightly. Maybe Don just needed to hear it from Chuck without the ears of the whole team listening.
“Okay, good, good,” Don mumbled. He looked over at the boys, breathing deeply.
Chuck felt his lips pull into a smile, honestly finding it heartwarming how Don checked up on him without the boys hearing. He was sure he either already did the same with Roger and Shorty, or was about to.
Chuck had no regrets about punching Dunn. If he had to do it again, he wouldn’t hesitate.
“Come on, Hume, we 're falling behind.”
Chuck patted Don on the back, racing him up the hill to catch up with the rest of the team. Don lingered beside him, quiet as always, but smiling.