Venting basketball at the park.

I met up with Thomas at the park after school. We each went back to our houses to get changed and met at one of the six half courts. He insisted we did it that way because he refused to play basketball in his uniform. Plus he had to go get a ball.

So, sporting some sporty wear, Thomas taught me the basics of basketball from scratch because, as it turns out, I was extremely rusty AND I was never good to begin with. Thankfully barely anyone was around, so they didn’t see my awful attempts and dribbling and my clumsy passes. Thomas laughed, but not in a mocking way. He encouraged me to keep trying, constantly showing me how it was done and keeping things at a beginner level. Slowly but surely, I was getting the hang of it. I think my new body had a small hand in it. At least I wasn’t getting tired.

“You’re still too stiff, but you’re getting there,” Thomas encouraged. “I’m taking back my offer to join the team, though,” he said, grinning.

“Then I’ll join a local team and kick your ass,” I proclaimed, just as I lost control of the ball and had to shamefully run after it. “...In one or two years,” I said when I caught it.

“That could be fun as well, you know?” At least Thomas looked like he was having a good time. “Let’s do some free throws now. I think you’ll be better at this.”

He showed me how to hold the ball and how best to throw. Turns out I’d been doing it all wrong as a kid. No wonder I never reached the hoop! I did my first shot as he instructed, and though I didn’t score, my throw had enough **** behind it to bounce off the backboard.

“Hey, not bad!” Thomas praised. “You got it down pretty quickly. Helps that you have strong arms, too. Now it’s just a matter of practice.” Thomas picked up the ball, dribbled a couple of times and shot. It went in with that perfect sound of the ball grazing the net.

“Show off,” I told him.

“Seven years of practice, Oliver,” he boasted.

“Why’d you pick up basketball?” I asked him, picking up the ball and shooting again. Missed.

Thomas caught it just as it bounced off the backboard and shot immediately, scoring again. “I don’t know. It didn’t have to be basketball. I had a lot of energy and frustrations to relieve, so my dad suggested I pick a sport. He said that, since I was taller than most, I should take advantage of it. It was either volleyball or basketball, and I saw people running more in the latter, so I guess that’s why.”

“Frustrations to relieve? At eleven years old?” I took my shot. I was closer this time, but it was only luck. The ball bounced off the hoop and Thomas went to get it.

“You probably know what I’m talking about,” he said. “Little to no friends, I was taller than all my classmates so they made fun of me, not very smart, either. I guess I wanted to shut them up.” He shot again, and once more scored.

“People made fun of you for being tall? Actually, scratch that. They’ll make fun of anything.”

“Exactly. I didn’t expect to like the sport so much, though. At some point I forgot all about the people making fun of me. I made friends playing and eventually no one said anything anymore. Seven years later and I don’t have plans to stop anytime soon.”

I could sort of relate. I picked up the guitar on a whim and didn’t expect to still be playing. Where our stories differed, though, was that I tried joining the music club and found even more hostility there, isolating me more. Thomas was way cooler for succeeding.

I made another shot. This one was waaaay off. I ran after the ball and threw a pass at Thomas.

“You know… I don’t think Lyla liked me playing basketball,” he suddenly said.

“What? What makes you say that?”

“She saw like… three of my games in total, and always looked uncomfortable whenever I talked about the sport or the team. I thought she didn’t like sports in general, but I caught her watching a girl’s soccer game on her phone once.”

“So that’s why you keep thinking she didn’t like you?” I asked softly.

Thomas nodded. He dribbled in place for a moment, looking down. “I mean, when you like someone, you’re happy to listen to them talk about what they love, right? Or was that just me?”

I smiled. “I’d have to agree.”

I liked listening to the girls talk. Mila could be talking about a post she read on social media, even though I don’t use it; Grace could be telling me about a book she’d read, even though I don’t read much; and Sarah could be showing me a meme she found hilarious and I found boring, but even so, I still wanted to hear them talk about it.

Thomas suddenly laughed loudly. “Look at that dumb smile! You’re thinking about the girls, aren’t you?”

“W-What? N-No!” I denied, suddenly panicking for no reason. “Why would I?”

“Because you had the most amazing weekend, right? Come on, tell me about it,” he insisted.

“...I don’t know if I should, Thomas.”

“Oliver, I got dumped and I found out TODAY that another friend of mine was cheating on his girlfriend. I need to know SOMEONE out there is happy.”

“Are you sure?” I asked carefully.

“I’m not gonna be jealous, dude. Okay, maybe a little, but I’m curious. I need to hear this open relationship is going well.”

My cheeks burned from embarrassment. “Why?

“Because it’s cool, Oliver! Most guys, me included, would love to have three girls wrapped around their finger like you do. Seriously, it makes me jealous but I’m also rooting for you.”

I blinked. Maybe it was because he was now single, having just been dumped and with his emotional state all over the place, that he was allowing himself to say those things. It was… a little weird, but I could believe him. After all, nervous as it made me, I was fucking ecstatic that I three girls were willing to share me, even if just as sex friends.

I tried reversing our positions. For starters, I used to be jealous of Thomas’ relationship with his girlfriend, but that was because I wanted to have a girlfriend, too, not because I liked Lyla. If I knew three girls were sharing a random guy, I’d probably be green with envy. If I found out three girls were sharing Thomas… I’d be green with envy too, yeah. But if they were girls I had no interest in, then I’d actually be pretty excited for him, provided things were working out.

Huh. I guess I could believe why he’d be happy for me. It may also mean that Thomas had no interest in Mila, Grace and/or Sarah, which was the biggest relief for me.

I let out a loud sigh. “Don’t blame me, alright? You’re asking for this.”

“That I am!” Thomas nodded nonchalantly.

It was nerve wracking and worrisome at the time, but these days Thomas and I share stories like these on the daily. Sometimes you decide to trust someone and it ends up paying off. Sure, other times it doesn’t happen, but this time it did. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.

Author's note: This might be a little sudden, but I'll be taking a break throughout November. I'll keep posting chapters, but only one a week. The reason is that I had to take a temporary job for October and November that's 12 hours a day, 6 days a week. Energy and time to write have been on the low end, so I can't keep up with my normal schedule. The William branch is on full Hiatus until next month.

This break applies to my Patreon as well. You'll be charged up front if you pledge, so if you want to support me there, it might be best to wait until next month.

Thank you all for reading. I hope you are enjoying this story and that you'll still stick with me. I wish you all the best.

See you soon.