Just a dumb fuck

A close shave

Tuesday wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I had expected. Yes, there were a few sly grins and the odd comment but nothing I can’t live with. I made sure too that I was seen at tea, where me and Jackson simply ignored each other’s presence.

The real issue of the day was deciding what I do on Wednesday afternoon, which is set aside for Sports. After lunch on Wednesdays we all do sports, either competitively against other High Schools if we make the teams, or training to be in the teams. Not all the sports are team sports, there’s plenty of stuff like tennis or athletics too. Now I’ve had my gym and sports induction I’m allowed to join in at last, but for the past three weeks I’ve had to watch from the side-lines and got used as a general gopher, fetching and carrying stuff from A to B, then usually taking it back to A again because that is where it should have been anyway. Honestly, some people couldn’t organise a piss up in a brewery.

I’ve not been short of advice. Kyle of course wants me to do football. Apparently I’m suited to what’s called ‘wide receiver’ or ‘pass rusher’, both positions needing speed and stamina as well as strength. He says I don’t need to be the biggest guy on the field, just fast enough to avoid anybody bigger than me and bigger than anybody faster than me. Kind of like a battlecruiser I suppose. Well, that concept ended well at Jutland didn’t it? I did play flank forward back home in rugby for my school which sounds like a similar role but without all the armour plate and hanging around. I can’t get why American football seems to spend more time lining up and trying to look pretty than actually playing. Anyway, football is out tomorrow, even if I am armoured up, because of my bruises. As I am, even Will or Noah could put me down on the ground if they gave me a sneaky jab with their elbows.

Travis wants me to do wrestling, which seems to be all about dressing up in lycra and rolling about on the floor with the other gym rats. I think I can give that a miss. Not just because of the bruises either. I mean, the way I get a boner every 5 minutes these days? In lycra? That’s not going to end well.

Shane does baseball, which is American for rounders. I’ve tried explaining to him that back in England only girls play rounders. Baseball is another game where lots of the players wear crash hats and armour. I mean, for a girls’ game? I can’t play rounders. I’d be the laughing stock of all my mates back home if they found out.

Both Will and Noah play lacrosse and though at first sight it looks like hockey, just like girls play back home, and the players wear crash hats and armour, I’m tempted by it. According to Will it was invented by the Indians and they played it using the chopped off heads of their enemies. Now they have to use a ball instead. No lycra, no waiting around and lining up all day. I think I’m definitely going to have a go at lacrosse in a week or two when my ribs are up to it. I watched Will and Noah play it last week. They might give an impression of being sweet innocent choirboys most of the time, but see them on the field and they morph into vicious little rats armed with battlesticks. According to Noah it’s also popular with werewolves too. Yes, right Noah… I think I believe Will’s story about the Indians more.

Anyway, tomorrow, I’m going to try water polo and maybe diving with Nathan. It’s got the advantage that it will combine well with swimming I can do on Sundays at Activities when I’m not boxing. Swimming is good for building endurance and stamina, so it’s going to help with boxing too. In fact, Nathan says water polo can sometimes turn out like boxing when the referee isn’t any good at keeping a lid on it. I said he should take up boxing  - he’s got the muscles and body to make a good middleweight eventually – but he just looked at  me and said if I was the advert for it he’d take up chess first. I bet Americans would probably want to wear armour and skid lids to play chess too.

Anyway, I got back from tea with Travis and Shane at nearly 17:00. We cut it fine because Kyle nearly always either cancels private study, or at least calls Endex early, on Tuesdays to allow us to get any sport kit sorted out for the following day. We were safe. Kyle was already laying out his shirts on his bed and Noah and Will were busying themselves lacing up the netty things on their battlesticks like a couple of the Stygian triplets preparing for war. Shane was soon rummaging round in his wardrobe pulling together an assortment of shirts and one of those giant glove things. Yes, I know. Back home the girls catch the ball in their hands but here they use giant padded gloves. Anyway, he’s something called a shortstop but he wants to be a pitcher. That’s the guy that throws the ball at the batter. Doesn’t even have to aim at a wicket, just chucks it right at the batter. It can’t be that difficult a job. Girls can do it.

Me and Travis have it easy. I took my jacket off, then my tie too seeing as how Nathan wasn’t around. Getting my sports kit together wasn’t going to take much time, all I needed to do was chuck a couple of towels and my Speedos in a bag and I was done. Travis is the same, just needs to put his spiderman suit in a bag and he’s sorted too. Plenty of time for that later. For now we could kick back and relax. Maybe ask if I could borrow one of Will’s DVDS and watch it on my laptop. At least dad hasn’t disabled the DVD drive.

“You not joining Nat?” asked Kyle as he paused from folding up one of his shirts. “You are swimming tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m swimming. Why?”

Where is Nathan? What’s he doing? This is potentially bad. Nathan’s clearly off doing something. From the sounds of it, I should be too. Nobody’s told me I should be doing something, but that’s not going to fly with Nathan when I’m not there doing it.

“He’s down in the washroom with his swim buddy.”

Now everybody is smirking at me. I probably have panic written all over my face. Bugger it. Just when things were going well for once. I’m still no wiser. Travis isn’t helping. “Nat said you could join him and his swim buddy tonight until you got your own swim buddy, remember? Deefer…”  I’m sure Nathan hasn’t said anything to me about swim buddies. I’d have remembered. Nathan doesn’t let you forget things.

I’m clearly missing the joke here, and they’re dying to maximise it. The Stygians are paying less attention to their head chuckers, Shane is looking up from waxing his glove. Travis and Kyle are enjoying themselves at my discomfort and I’m not even sure yet why I am discomforted.

“I’d get down to the washroom quick if I were you,” said Travis, “whilst Nat just thinks you’re late rather than actually dodging him and his buddy.”

“Don’t forget some towels and soap. Lots of towels. Just in case you nick your pretty little legs. Don’t want blood everywhere do we?” Kyle’s hardly able to stop himself laughing. “Go on, get a move on. Girls’ night out with Nat and his swim buddy. Probably do you a manicure too if you ask nicely.”

By this time they are all wading in. “He’s down there shaving his legs.” “And arms.” “Back too. That’s why you need a buddy!” “Nah, that’s for when they do their butt and balls. That’s when you need a buddy.”

Well, I know professional swimmers shave. At the Olympics and stuff like that. Even cyclists. Where a ten millionth of a microsecond makes a difference between a gold or a silver medal. But not cadets. And we’re only doing water polo tomorrow. Not racing world class salmon upstream!

“But that’s just bloody gay…”  I couldn’t help saying that. It just slipped out. Thankfully Kyle’s still laughing.  “Sorry Kyle, but it is.”

“No offence taken Boots. I’m not the one shaving my legs. That’s the straight boys. Allegedly…”

“Nathan’s actually down the washroom shaving? For real?”

“Not just Nat,” chuckled Shane, “don’t forget his buddy. Swim buddy. Best buddy.”

“Real good buddy. Has to be if you’re letting him run a razor over your balls. Feeling if they are smooth enough. Stroking them…” Will isn’t helping with remarks like that.

The easiest way to sort this is to go and see. They are just winding me up. I know they are. They have to be. I put my laptop down and headed for the door. The washroom is just down the corridor. In 30 seconds this joke is done. I don’t bother taking a towel or soap. I can tell when the Colonials are winding me up.

They bloody aren’t.

Nathan’s in the washroom with a towel wrapped round his waist, standing behind another guy who has soap all over his shoulders and back. Nathan’s carefully scraping a razor across the guy’s shoulders and then flicking the suds over into the showers. Both of them look up at me as though they’re just sat having a coffee.

“Hi Boots, this is Riley,” said Nathan as he casually flicked another dollop of suds over into the showers. “He races with me.” Why am I thinking about those tv nature programmes where two chimps sit under a tree picking fleas off each other?

Riley’s about the same build as Nathan, a definite swimmer, as tall as me and Nathan but neither of them quite as muscled as me. Yeah, Noah was spot on with his drawing, I am getting a bit buff now. I’ve seen Riley around occasionally; I think he’s a sophomore so that fits in with him being a buddy of Nathan. He’s got dark hair, almost black. There are thin little lines of soap suds in places across his chest, and what look like to be a few tiny flecks of blood. They really are shaving their chests.

I’m not! First because, well, I’m just bloody not! And second, I don’t even need to. My chest is smooth. I haven’t grown any chest hair yet. I’m only 15 for Christ’s sake, give me some time. And if I did have some hair on my chest, that’s where it’d be staying, I’d be wanting it on display!

“Hi Boots,” said Riley as Nathan flicked more soap across the room into the shower. “Nat here tells me you’re trying out polo with us tomorrow. Been hearing a lot about you.”

Nathan’s talking, but concentrating down on Riley’s shoulders rather than looking up at me. “Are you just going to stand there Boots or are you getting ready? Come on, get a move on. Go get your shave kit and bring some towels. In fact, get one of the guys in the dorm to give you a quick zip over with an electric razor before you come back, it’ll save time and make the shaving way easier. We haven’t got all night.” Riley’s looking at me like Nathan’s just asked for nothing more than another coffee.

“You serious, Nathan? You actually want me to shave?”

Now both of them are just looking at me like I’m stupid.

“Nathan, I’m only just 15. Last month. I’ve not got a hairy chest. I don’t even shave my face yet.”

They exchange glances and look back at me.

“Boots, I’ve seen you,” starts Nathan, “in the showers, every morning and night. You’ve got hair on your arms and legs, just like everybody else. And real fine hair, everywhere on your body. I’m not saying hair like a monkey, just real fine downy hair. It causes drag. Without it you’ll be a few tenths of a second faster. Everybody shaves down for swimming. And you’ve got hair on your dick and balls too, plenty of it, especially for your age.”

I know I’ve got hair on my dick. Even ‘at my age’. And that’s where it’s staying. All of it. I’m proud of it.

“Not bloody likely, Nathan. And definitely not my cock hair. Definitely not there. I’ll be wearing Speedos. I don’t need streamlining there!”

Nathan just looks at Riley again, and Riley looks back at him, then both of them look at me.

“Boots,” said Nathan, just like an exasperated big brother talking to an annoying little kid brother, “does your dick get wet when you swim?”

“Of course it does,” I said, not following his reasoning. “I’m in the pool aren’t I?” Where’s this argument going?

“So, there’s water flowing through your Speedos isn’t there?”

“Well, yes, I guess so…”

Now Riley is joining in. “So, flow equals turbulence. Equals drag. Unless you are smooth. Got it yet?”

“Boxers,” sighed Nathan, looking at Riley, “I can’t tell whether it’s a macho thing or just too many whacks to the head.”

Riley gives me a pitying look and stands up as Nathan gives the razor a final flick and says, “You’re done, bud.” Then Riley drops his towel, struts into the showers, turns one on and steps under the water. From the back I can see he’s like totally shaved from the top of his neck all the way down, little spots of soap and spits of blood to prove it. As I’m still standing there, he turns round to face me, reaching his arms up high to wash off the traces of soap from under his pits, then starts laughing as he wiggles his hips to make his dick flop about. He’s bald as a baby down there.

“Grow up, Boots, it doesn’t make you less of a man to shave your balls. The cheerleaders probably like it! They all shave their pussies don’t they? Keeps the hair out of your mouth when you go down on them. I hear you’re pretty experienced in that department. Return the favour for them.”

Nathan’s laughing with him, dropping his towel too, stepping into the shower to get wet ready for his turn. His skin is already smooth, just like most gingers seem to be, smooth and pale. Nathan’s more of a coppery, reddish-brown rather than an in-your- face ginger like Travis. His dick is bigger than Riley’s, probably nearly the same size as mine. Certainly when it’s soft anyway. He’s smiling at me, just like it’s completely naturally for us to be stood here, him and Riley to be showing off their dicks to me. They’re both circumcised, something I’m still not used to seeing. Don’t tell me that’s to help with the streamlining too. Nathan ran his fingers through the short but dense thatch of red hair round his dick and looked directly at me. “It’s all coming off, Boots. Much as I like it, it’s costing me a split second a length. All gotta go. Now go get your razor and get back here. We’ll shave you down if you don’t know how yet…” 

* * *

There was a moment’s silence as I stomped back into the dorm and slammed down onto my bed, followed by a big outburst of laughter when I just glared at them all and said, “No guys. Just no! It’s not happening. If they want an extra tenth of a second they should just train harder…”

Shane is giving us all a wistful look then sliding his hand down the front of his pants, rubbing it round as though he’s trying to find something. “Gotta say I agree with you, Boots. I dream of the day when I get some hair on my dick. How about you, Will?”

Will’s laughing too. “Yeah, maybe next time we go to the barber we should ask to save the offcuts and buy some glue. I’m fed up of looking like a two-year-old.”

* * *

It was a good thirty minutes until Nathan came back to the dorm, Riley tagging along with him. Both of them were wearing just their boxer shorts.

“Nice legs, girls,” I muttered as they both put their washbags and shaving gear down on Nathan’s desk and opened a window to hang their wet towels out. I hadn’t realised it earlier but there were two piles of clothes on the chair next to Nathan’s bed. It looked as though Riley was a regular visitor. He certainly seemed to know everybody in the room well enough.

“You know, if you’ve got some phobia about razor blades, Boots, we could just wrap you up in duct tape then pull it off…” said Riley. “It’ll be just like when my sister waxes.” Clearly, they weren’t going to let it rest.

“Maybe we should send for one of those sheep shearing guys, like they have in Australia,” suggested Nathan. “You know, kind of get him grabbed in a bear hug, tipped onto his ass and sheared down in like 30 seconds or less.”

“That’d work,” laughed Riley. “Travis, you up for wrestling him down whilst me and Nathan get the clippers out?” He turned to Noah and Will. “You guys can grab an arm each, keep those fists out of play.”  Noah and Will didn’t appear to relish the idea. I think I told you that they’re bright lads.

“Basically, he’s just shy I think, aren’t you, Boots? All English guys are shy, it’s their genes. He’ll get used to it once we’ve stripped him.”

“Nah, he’s not shy,” countered Riley, “Not if it’s true about what I heard you posted on Instagram is it, Boots?”

I know they were only joking, and that they wouldn’t actually try and shave me, and they knew I knew it, but I was still getting pretty pissed off. Kyle didn’t seem happy about where things were going either. He turned and looked at Nathan and Riley, not angry, but just that little hint of an edge to his voice. His lieutenant voice.

“Guys, cool it. Game over. You’ve had your fun, now get yourselves dressed and let’s all go for dinner.”

He let the silence linger for a moment, then turned to me and the other guys, winked, and added, “Speaking of dinner, for some reason, I can’t get the image of a couple of plucked turkeys out of my mind.”