Kaleidoscopic

Chapter 13

NOVEMBER

The locker room was always hot and muggy, making Jackson feel like he was being licked by a cloud. The thick air reminded him of hotboxing a car, except, instead of smoke, his lungs were weighted with humidity and chlorine. He didn't think Evan would understand since the only weed he ever touched was in his yard.

Evan was standing two feet away from the red-headed boy, shuffling though his locker in a state of annoyance.

"Lose something?" Jackson asked. He was wiping his dripping face with a towel, his skin still pinkish from the overly-hot shower water.

Evan's head remained inside of his own locker, digging. "Yeah, actually..."

Jackson watched the messy white head of hair bend and dunk, frantically looking in every corner. Evan even stretched his hand all the way to the back and ran his fingers over the grody, rusty bottom of the metal locker. He found nothing but a stale piece of chewed gum and a loose aglet from a shoelace. He finally gave up and poked his head out to look at Jackson.

"Have you seen my – ?"

Evan stopped himself when he saw Jackson holding up his Spiderman swim cap. The redhead tossed it to him without any additional taunting. Evan caught it, looking at Jackson long enough to see that he was shirtless. His pale torso was speckled with freckles, and although he was about the same height as Danny, he wasn't as bulky.

"Stay out of my shit," Evan warned, averting his eyes to the slippery floor tiles.

Jackson countered, saying, "Get a new swim cap. You've been wearing that since freshmen year."

"Does my good luck charm make you nervous?"

Jackson scoffed. "Unlike you, Webby Boy, I don't need a good luck charm," he said. "I have natural talent. And refined skill."

Evan rolled his eyes. "You didn't look too skilled in the water earlier."

Jackson wrapped his towel around the back of his neck and causally hung onto either end. Evan thought the pose made him look extremely cocky.

"First of all, you false started," Jackson argued.

"Says who?"

"Says me," he stated. "And coach. He saw it too."

"Bullshit," Evan fumed.

"And your form was sloppy," Jackson noted.

"My form?" Evan questioned. "You're the one who looks like a windmill whenever you swim the fly."

"At least I can swim the fly," Jackson exclaimed. "You barely have the core strength to keep up with the backstroke."

"My specialty is the breaststroke," Evan reminded him.

"Says the man who's never stroked a breast," Jackson snapped.

Evan fumbled for words, hoping Jackson's comment was simply a general insult and not a jab at something broader.

"LADIES," their Coach Farley yelled from his adjacent office. "Mind giving me a schedule of your menstrual cycles? So I'll know when to expect the inconvenient mood swings?"

The rest of the swim team let out bursts of laugher, silencing Jackson and Evan out of embarrassment. Coach Farley's demeaning comment not only made Evan feel shameful for being compared to a woman, but he also felt shameful for feeling shameful. He knew his sister would have slapped his coach if she would have heard what he said.

"And what happened to your face?" Evan quietly mumbled. "Did a butterfly flick your nose?"

Jackson released one end of his towel and snapped it against the back of Evan's knees. The white-hair boy jumped at the contact and threw an empty can of shaving cream at him. Jackson was relieved he didn't ask any more about his injured nose.

"Remember to bend your elbows in the water," Jackson told Evan, after he dodged the pelting of the metal can. "Your hands aren't extending far enough in front of you. You practically let me win."

Evan slammed his locker. "Since when do you give me tips?"

Jackson shrugged his bare shoulders. "I'm feeling charitable."

Evan zipped his backpack, ready to leave. He said, "Stay out of my locker."

"Maybe you should change your combination."

"Maybe you should change your insults," Evan responded. "They're getting pretty old."

"Like your Spiderman swim cap?"

Evan braced his jaw tightly.

Circles – that's what their conversations always ended up being. Back and forth until they ended where they started, and nothing ever changed. It was beginning to make Evan so dizzy that he almost expected to get whiplash whenever he saw the bricks at school or a penny on the sidewalk or the pipes in his basement – anything that resembled Jackson's stupid, russet-colored hair. He could never stop hearing Jackson's prodding voice.

"But, hey," Jackson continued. "I get it. If I looked like a glow stick I'd want to hide under an ugly swim cap too."

Evan absorbed the blow. He expected it, actually. His white hair had attracted a fair amount of stares and gawks throughout the last couple months, so he had assumed people were making secret jokes about it too. But he didn't care. It was just hair, and he had gotten the new Nikes from Kenneth because he had completed the dare. He hadn't dyed it back to his natural color because he liked the change. When he looked in the mirror he was still Evan Webster, but something as simple as new hair made him feel different. Like whatever he had done in the past wasn't him. Wasn't his fault. Wasn't his burden to carry.

"At least I don't look like a rooster," Evan said, referring the animal's red wattle and comb. "Or is the proper term cock?"

Jackson paused and a bound of silence formed between them. It was expansive, and Evan thought it might actually swallow him whole. It lingered for a moment as the two boys continued to face each other. The only thing that interrupted the trade of soundless tension was Jackson's delayed, single-huffed laugh.

"How many cocks do you look at on a daily basis, Webby Boy?" Jackson wondered.

It was infuriating – how Jackson managed to twist every comment to his advantage.

"LADIES! Again," Coach Farley remarked from a distance. "Shut up! You sound like my daughters fighting over the bathroom on picture day."

Evan took that as his opportunity to leave, having heard enough of Jackson's voice and Coach Farley's sexist comments. He didn't even bother to tie his shoes.

Jackson inhaled sharply and busied himself by roughly drying his hair with his towel, but through his lashes, he watched Evan trudge toward the exit.