~15 June ~

It’s not the blazing, cloudless heat people imagine when they think of summer. The clouds keep the sun in check, but the humidity is relentless, turning the whole city into a sauna. Sweat runs down my skin in rivulets. I’m pretty sure I could wring out my jersey and water the plants in front of our house. If I could make it back that far. My legs feel like jelly and my lungs are burning.

“Alright, boys,” Couch Landry’s voice bellows across the yard. “That’s enough for today. Good practice! Now grab some water and hydrate. I’ll see you all on Wednesday, same time.”

I bend forward and lean my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath, when I feel a large hand slap my back.

“Those were some sick moves, Shorty! You absolutely killed it back there!”

I grin back up at my teammate Royce, who looks at least as sweaty as I feel, only his usually light complexion has turned a decided shade of red.

“Thanks, man,” I pant, appreciating the praise. When Coach Landry asked me after winter break if I wanted to join the Riverside Panthers, I didn’t really think I had what it takes. Sure, I’d shot some hoops with kids from my neighbourhood, but did that really qualify me for my high school’s basketball team? Coach seemed to think so, and now here I was, six months later, the Panthers’ second point guard.

“Yo, Dupree,” Hayes calls out from the other side of the court. “Iker, Lenz and Zimo wanna hang out in the park later. Royce is bringin’ a six-pack. You comin’?”

I straighten up and rub my neck. “Um…” I look around in search of one of our other team mates. A certain one. Before I can lock eyes with him, I hear Hayes’ cackle.

“Oh gawd, just bring your boyfriend. He’s kind of the team mascot anyway.” He winks and laughs.

“Oy, watch it, Hayes,” Remy’s voice sounds from behind Hayes and a bucket of ice water empties onto our Power Forward who squeals in surprise. We all laugh as Hayes pelts some of the ice cubes back at Remy, who tries to shield himself with the cooler.

“Boys! If you still have that much energy, maybe you need to do a few suicides to burn it off!” Coach Landry yells at us from the bench.

“Nah, we’re good, coach!” Zimo, our team clown, sing-songs while skipping towards the locker room. We all groan. That probably did it, and we all start shuffling towards the base line. To our utter surprise, Coach Landry waves us off.

“Oh, go on. Get out of here before I come to my senses.”

We all exchange looks. Is he serious?

Coach Landry narrows his eyes at us: “Why are you all still standing around? Get out! Enjoy your summer!”

This time we don’t wait for him to change his mind again and scramble towards the locker room as fast as we can. Only Remy hangs back until I’m caught up with him. When I do, he gently bumps his shoulder into mine.

“Do you want to hang out with the others?” he asks me in a low voice.

I look ahead to where the rest of the team has disappeared.

“I should probably head home. My dad…” I don’t finish the sentence. I don’t need to. Remy just nods. He’s never met my dad. I made sure of that, and I never shared all the details of my family life with him, but he knows enough.

Remy lowers his voice to a whisper. “Can we hang out for a bit? We could go to the Palace?”

I grin at him. “Yeah, sure. I’d like that.” Then I look around to confirm none of the others is still lurking around. When I’m sure we’re alone, I press a quick kiss to Remy’s lips, and he smiles.

The team knows about us, of course. Ever since ‘Slim’ Lin walked in on us a few weeks ago in the locker room, the news quickly spread that the team’s star player – he’s so not the mascot – and the new point guard are an item. Nobody batted an eye. There’s the occasional ripping, but it’s generally good-natured. In unspoken agreement, Remy and I decided to keep things on the down low around the other Panthers. When we’re with them, we’re just two players – mates – just like everyone else. Only when we’re alone, we’re… well… whatever we are.

We haven’t put a label on us yet. I don’t really need one. It’s been almost two months now since Remy kissed me for the first time, and it’s been the best two months of my life. There was more kissing – a lot more! – since then. But after we were caught too many times and teachers threatened to tell our parents, we decided to find a secret hiding place. We discovered a tool shed, which was technically still on school grounds, but no-one ever bothered us there. So this is where we met up every morning before classes, during lunch break and after school. Basically every free minute we could spare.

But then summer came and school ended. Usually it’s what we’re all looking forward to. Ten weeks of freedom to do whatever we like. In my case that meant seeing Remy became even more difficult.

We can’t meet up at our family’s homes. Remy’s mom and grandma are super strict, and if they had any suspicion that we were more than just friends, there would be hell to pay. And no way am I taking Remy to meet my dad. It’s bad enough that he saw my split lip the other day.

Because it’s on school grounds, we can’t even use the shed. We tried to find a hole in the fence surrounding the grounds, but no such luck. Remy cursed like a sailor when we realised we were locked out. I had almost resigned myself to a summer without excessive kissing when Remy came up with a solution. There was an abandoned building in his neighbourhood. Not really close to me but still in biking distance. It was really run down with broken windows, creaky floors and an overgrown backyard. Definitely not a palace, which is exactly why it became ours.

It’s a bit spooky, but it’s empty, and no one seems to care about two teenagers sneaking inside at odd hours, dragging an old, stained mattress and other items inside. It’s the best place ever. We even added a few pillows and a blanket, and Remy always has snacks and a can of diet coke in his backpack that we share. Our Palace also gives us the privacy to be a little bolder.

I think Remy is more experienced than me. Which isn’t saying much because I have exactly zero experience being with another boy. I don’t dare to ask Remy if he’s been with someone else before… or how many others there were before me. Because if I did, surely he’d ask me the same and then I’d have to lie. Or confess I’m basically a virgin. And that’s just too embarrassing. At least it seems Remy has some idea of what he’s doing. So I’m happy to just go along.

Remy and I follow the rest of the team into the locker room. I can hear water splashing in the shower room and a voice singing hopelessly offkey.

“TELL ME WHY!”

“Shut up, Martinez!” Everyone shouts their standard reply to our first point guard butchering one of his songs.

“AIN’T NOTHING BUT A HEARTACHE!”

Remy and I share a glance and snicker. Then we strip down and head for a quick rinse, towels wrapped around our waists. We avoid looking at each other. I really want to spare my teammates the embarrassment of sporting a boner or making googly eyes at my… at Remy.

When we return, Zimo is sitting on one of the benches in front of his locker, drumming his fingers against the wooden surface. He’s changed into his street clothes already and there is a suspicious smell in the air.

“Come on, guys,” he yells at Martinez and the others. “Stop dawdling! I’m ready to head out!”

“That’s only because you confuse dousing yourself with deodorant with actual personal hygiene!” Hayes complains. In contrast to Remy and me, he doesn’t bother with wearing a towel; he just barely holds it in front of his crotch to cover his junk. I pretend to busy myself with fishing clean underwear out of my backpack but I can’t help a smirk. Hayes is ripped like a Greek god. My gaze flickers towards Remy, and I catch him stealing a glance at Hayes as well. When he notices me looking, he winks at me, and we both giggle. Even if we weren’t… whatever we are, it feels good to have a friend who shares my ‘interests’ and with whom I can be open about it. Who just gets me.

Iker coughs behind Hayes: “Jay-zuhs, Zimo, are you trying to fumigate the building?”

Zimo lifts up his chin in defiance: “It’s called smelling good.”

Lenz just shakes his head: “No, Zimo, it’s called a chemical attack.”

“The Geneva Convention called. They want their chemical weapons back.” Remy chimes in and everyone laughs. Even Zimo.

I stuff my smelly practice clothes into my backpack, remembering just in time to take out my keys so they don’t get lost somewhere in the bottom. I sift through the contents in search of my Black Panther key chain and the keys attached to it. It’s not there. I go through everything again. And again. My movements are starting to get a little frantic, and I start to fling items out of my bag. Wet fabric hits my arse, and I can hear a cackle.

“What have you lost this time, Dupree?” Iker swings a soggy towel over his shoulder. He glances at the chaotic pile on the bench with a raised eyebrow. I mumble something about ‘nothing… just keys’ while I rifle through my meagre belongings with increasing panic. Gawd, my dad is going to kill me. I don’t mean that metaphorically. My dad is literally going to end my life if I lose the keys to our house. My mind already whirrs to come up with ideas on how I could hide it from him. Maybe I could borrow Josie’s and make a copy? What would that even cost me? My pulse races and I can feel a sob clawing its way up my pipe. Iker eyes me, not without sympathy in his eyes. “Jeeze, Wendell, if your head wasn’t screwed on, you’d lose that, too.”

I’m trying to gulp for air when a hand touches my elbow lightly. “The front pocket, Lell. Have you checked the front pocket? I think I saw you putting them in there earlier.”

My fingers fly to the front pocket of my backpack and – there they are. My stupid house keys and my beautiful Black Panther key chain. I let out a jittery breath, feeling a little wobbly, and throw a grateful look at Remy, who is leaning towards me with a smile. He squeezes my shoulder lightly before he continues packing up his own things.

Once everyone is dressed, we head outside. It is a bit weird to be on school grounds during our summer break, and strictly speaking, practices are not mandatory, but Coach wants us to stay in shape, and we want to kick ass next year. We have some amazing players, and for some of us – Royce, Hayes and Remy – this will be their last chance to win State before graduation. We’re all determined to send them off with a bang.

The eerie emptiness and quiet of the place still feel strange. When we leave the building, we’re hit by a wall of heat and humidity. New Orleans really has it out for us today. Within seconds, I can feel sweat beading on my skin again. I’ll definitely need another shower when I get home. A group of giggling girls is waiting near the entrance under the shelter of the awning that provides a little bit of shade. One of them, a short redhead with wild curls billowing around her freckled face, gives us a flirtatious little wave.

“Hey guys.” She barely spares us a glance before beaming at Hayes, who swoops her off the ground. She squeals and loops her arms and legs around him like a human octopus, and before we all know it, they’re locked in a passionate kiss.

There are some catcalls from the guys behind us and gagging noises coming unmistakably from ‘Slim’ Lin.

“Ewww… gross… couples. Who wants the pandemic and the 6 ft distance rule back? Lift your hand!” He does and looks around. No one else follows his example, everyone just gaping at him. He shrugs, unperturbed, and heads off.

This is when we can all hear Martinez shouting at the top of his voice: “I NEVER WANNA HEAR YOU SAY!”

There’s a chorus of “Shut up, Martinez!” with more laughter, and ‘Slim’ Lin adds a “Laters, losers!” as he trots off.

Hayes and the redhead girl – I think her name is Tia, and she’ll be a junior like me next year – are still sucking faces when I can feel Remy’s fingers brush against mine. I turn to smile at him, and he grins back, taking my hand and tucking me towards our bikes. Time to visit our little hidey hole.

When Remy dragged me into our Palace for the first time, I wasn’t sure what to expect. It smelt, and it was dusty. There were some used needles in a corner, and Remy discovered some other interesting items that he held up for me to see:

“Popcorn bag and a prophylactic,” he deadpanned before we both started giggling.

We cleaned up our Palace as best as we could so it didn’t feel like we were in danger of contracting any life-threatening diseases inside, and then we just hung out there any chance we got.

I’m spending my summer doing any odd job I can find so I can save some money to buy a new phone. Dad is still refusing to help, and I don’t want to ask my sister. I can do it on my own. Old Mr Henderson hires me regularly. He’s a retired electrician in our neighbourhood who is at least 100 years old but still knows his way around bulbs and wires. He says he loves helping out, so if you have a problem with your electronics, you call Mr Henderson and he’ll fix it for a bargain. And a tip for his assistant. Me. He never lets me do anything dangerous, so I’m mainly just there to hold his ladder or hand him his tools, but I get to watch repair all kinds of appliances and learn a lot of practical stuff. Mr Henderson says maybe after school I could become an electrician myself. I’m not sure that is really my calling, but it is good, honest work, and I love being around people. Mr Henderson always shares his lunch with me, too, and sometimes we get paid in cookies and beignets. It really could be worse.

The rest of my free time I’m at our Palace, reading comics and waiting to see if Remy shows up. Since I don’t have a phone, communication is a bit tricky, and most of the time we’ll just wait around for the other.

I’m also growing a little more confident with Remy. When he kissed me for the first time, I was so nervous. But I’ve had a good bit of practice now, and, just like with basketball, it made me better and more courageous. I’m pretty sure I’m not a bad kisser anymore. At least Remy’s soft moans and sighs tell me he enjoys kissing me, too.

As we’re walking away from our team, we can hear them calling after us.

“Be safe, boys!”

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”

“Don’t knock up Shorty, Dubois! We need him next year!”

The last one came from Zumi, of course, and Remy and I flip him the bird simultaneously. The tips of my ears heat up a little, though, because – we haven’t done that. Yet. Not that anything we do would lead to a pregnancy either way – I did pay attention when Ms Blish explained the basics of reproduction to us, thank you very much! Remy and I have been fooling around a bit, but we haven’t had actual sex. Yet.

The door of our Palace is locked as usual. Or that’s what it appears to be. The padlock is actually broken. With a glance around to make sure we’re not watched, Remy easily lifts the shackle and removes the padlock from the hasp. The door swings open and we slip through.

Inside, the air is hot and stuffy, the smell of dust, stale air and damp floors clinging to the air. We look around, but everything looks the same as the last time we were in here. Remy turns to me, cocking an eyebrow, then tugs at my hand and I stumble towards him with a giggle. His arms slide around my waist as he pulls me close. His nose brushes against mine, his breath ghosting over my skin. And then his lips find mine, softly moving against them. I lick across his bottom lip, and he chuckles, opening his mouth to accept my invitation.

Remy’s palms slide underneath my shirt, and my skin prickles where he touches me. His hands roam freely across my sides and back. When I tentatively tug at the hem of his shirt, Remy steps back from me with a grin to pull his shirt off. Good lawd. No matter how many times I see him shirtless – or naked – it takes my breath away. The quiet confidence in which he just shucks out of his clothes, slipping out of his sneakers, his gym shorts following in an instant while giving me that wicked grin. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me. When we’re alone. When we’re not with the team.

He reaches for the waistband of my shorts and pulls. “These need to come off, too.” He winks at me and lets the elastic snap back against my stomach. I yelp and roll my eyes. Now that we have our secret lair, he loves to get me naked. I don’t mind one bit.

A few weeks ago, not long after we claimed the Palace, our kissing started to get a little more heated, our breathing turning heavier, our touching a little more frantic. I didn’t even have to ask if kissing me turned him on. The evidence was pretty obvious. I wasn’t faring much better. I wanted to touch him – everywhere – and I wanted him to touch me. I just didn’t really know how to tell him that it would be okay if we did a little more than just kiss. I might be a blushing virgin with no clue what I’m doing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it!

It was the privacy of our palace that made us a little more adventurous. One afternoon, I could feel Remy’s palms slipping underneath my shirt. gliding over the bare skin of my flat stomach and chest. I think I stopped breathing for a moment. No one had ever touched me like this before. That day Remy kept his hands to my upper body. Only when I nervously tried to mimic his movements did he take a small step further. It became a dance, each step inviting the next. He led and I followed. Step by step, day by day. Tender touches of my ass. Above fabric. Underneath fabric. A soft squeeze. Gently rocking his hips against mine. Letting me feel his hard on. Against mine.

At first we kept some of our clothes on, and I came in my boxers. It was the first time I came in front of another person. For a second, I felt a little embarrassed, but Remy’s big grin told me there was nothing to be ashamed about. As did the wet patch at the front of his briefs.

Then we got naked together. We’d seen each other naked before in the shower room after practice, but this was different. This wasn’t as teammates. I felt vulnerable and exposed like never before in my life. But the smile in Remy’s eyes made me feel calm and confident. There was no reason to be nervous. It was like Remy took my hand and guided me down a road. A really sexy road. I think Remy knew that these were all first times for me, but he never made me feel like I was doing something wrong.

When he wrapped his palm around my cock for the first time, stroking it, it didn’t even feel weird. I’d imagined it, craved it, and when it happened… it felt incredible. Of course, I had played around with my own dick before (under the watchful eyes of my teen idol, The Vampire Lestat), but feeling someone else’s hand on me was so much better. And I was determined to make Remy feel just as good. I was completely mesmerised by the noises my touch drew out of him and when his jizz spilt over my hand, I never felt more accomplished in my life. I did that!

After practice, we’re both pretty spent, but not too spent. We shed our clothes, then Remy takes my hand, and we follow the creaking stairs upstairs to our room. Some of the boards covering the windows are broken, so a little light always filters in, though most of the heat stays outside. There’s our love nest – the old mattress, pillows, and blanket. Nothing special, but it’s ours. Most importantly: here we have each other. We’re alone. No one disturbs us.

We’re in no hurry; sundown is still hours away, and before that, our families won’t miss us. We take our time exploring each other’s body with lazy kisses and soft strokes. I try to map all of Remy’s freckles with my tongue, trying to commit them to memory. His complexion is just so creamy white, so different than my own. I marvel at the light blush that blooms across his skin, the sighs and murmurs that leave Remy’s mouth. I’m causing this.

Later we use some baby wipes to clean up the mess we left on our bodies. The mattress is already so spotty, a few more won’t make a difference. We snuggle under the blanket, more for comfort than anything, one of Remy’s legs is wedged between mine, his arm slung across my waist and his head leans against my chest. My arms are around his shoulders, my forehead resting against his crown.

“What are you doing tomorrow, Lell?” Remy asks me after a while.

I stiffen slightly and shuffle around to cover my reaction. Tomorrow is my birthday, but Remy doesn’t know that. I don’t want to make things awkward. If he knew, he’d most likely expect me to invite him over to my place, and that’s just not possible. I can never predict whether Dad will actually be at home and in what state. What if he hits me or calls me a sissy in front of Remy? Would Remy be disappointed if I don’t fight back? Would he want to defend me? Either isn’t an option.

“Are you helping Mr Henderson again?” Remy continues when I don’t reply.

“Um…” I fumble for a believable story. “Josie is at home and said she needs my help with something. Don’t know what. Sisters, eh?” I shrug my shoulders in a ‘what can you do’ gesture.

Well, that was only half a lie. My older sister said she’d be home. To celebrate my birthday, though, not because she needs me.

Josie graduated from high school two years ago, just before I started freshman year. Going to college wasn’t an option for her; we needed her money to pay bills and buy groceries after Dad lost his job. So she started working shifts at a little cafe nearby. Her boss is a huge asshole if you ask me; he only pays minimum wages, changes work schedules on a whim, and even if there are stale leftovers at the end of the day, he won’t let any of his employees take them home. I think he also gets handsy with his employees (only the female ones, of course), and I hate him. But we need the money. Lately, Josie spends all her remaining free time with her boyfriend Norman. I don’t know what she sees in him, a big nerdy kid with glasses and a stutter, but I don’t blame her. If I had somewhere else to live, I wouldn’t stay at our house either.

“Can we meet later in the afternoon? I want to show you something,” Remy asks.

I fiddle with a loose thread of our blanket. I don’t know how Josie will react if I abandon her after she took the day off for me. But I want to see Remy… “Maybe… I can try?”

Remy hums and closes his eyes. “I’ll wait for you here.”

Then he buries his face deeper into my chest and sighs contently.