Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/53

 Innocently, she looked at his naked chest and legs. "Did you lose your shoes?"

"Uh huh," he teased. "Can I wear yours?"

"They wouldn't fit, silly." She looked at his big feet.

"Don't think so, huh," he chuckled. "No … I don't guess they would."

What was that? Sounded like a scream from the gym … Blake perked his head and listened … Yes, there it was again, faint but real. Someone was in trouble. He'd better hurry.

He raced towards the gym door, caught the handle in his large hand. It grated noisily on its hinges and swung open. It was warm in the gym and the smell of sweat caught in his nostrils.

He saw the group of boys and thought it was a fight. Then he saw Gaylord, his face streaked with fear, being carried helplessly towards the toilets. Blake felt a trembling inside him, seeing Gaylord make a pathetic gesture as though to lift his tormentors. He saw the lips moving, shaping cries, but they were low and tired. Blake rubbed his knuckles together angrily. He was on his heels.

Gaylord heard the sound, looked up and saw Blake running towards him. He was running madly and his yells were loud and demanding, filling the deserted gymnasium with a resounding echo.

"What the hell's going on in here?" he demanded.

The eyes of the three boys, their hands loosening their deathlike grip, watched the tall, glistening figure running towards them. Saw the long masculine legs, shadowed by curly hair sprinkled even and thickly, continuing over the expanding chest. Dark olive skin that started on the broad forehead, covered the large biceps of both arms and ran below the knees to the tensely drawn thighs. The hair was short and glistening. Strands fell over the frowning forehead and the white gymnasium trunks made the waist look even smaller. They met his glare with a sheepish grin; their hearts pounded faster, this time from fright.

Stud's lip curled back to show a broken tooth, said, "Hi, Bob."

Blake's entire body was wracked with anger. The tears he saw squeezing through Gaylord's eyes were held tightly back as though he were ashamed of them, but the illness inside his own heart was the worst he had ever experienced. Three of them, he thought angrily. 43