Being in charge of the new students was a hard enough job, but running soccer tryouts on top of that made it nearly impossible for a student. Gray Rivers did his best despite his best friend constantly blowing a whistle in his ear. He had volunteered to do it, but he had no idea that Artie would have the whistle.
He at least thought Nathan Wayne would be in charge of that. Nope, Coach Stevens thought it would be a great idea for the most hyper member of the student council to have the whistle.
When the curved piece of silver screamed shrilly in his ear for the umpteenth time, Gray reached over and snatched it from his friend's hand. The blue cord was wrapped around his neck so he got the head as well. Deep blue eyes met aquamarine, and he stared intently at his friend.
Artie seemed to understand because he nodded without saying anything and leaned back. Gray released the whistle back into his command as long as he didn't annoy him. Artie wisely took three steps to the left to avoid the wrath of his friend.
The list of names wasn't very long. Only four new people were trying out this season. Four people who would be heartbroken if they didn't make the team. Gray wasn't prepared for that kind of reaction, and it made for a very uncomfortable one day tryout. He wasn't the captain of the team. That responsibility fell to Nathan but he was in charge of all sporting events the school held. That meant it was also his responsibility. Nathan and Coach Stevens had the last say, but Gray had to know so he could make all the rosters and schedule the games.
All this should have been done in November, but Coach Stevens' wife had had a medical scare last semester. She had been diagnosed with breast cancer and had required a mastectomy. That had put their plans for having any future kids on hold. Grahamville Heights football team had rallied around their assistant coach and had held a fundraiser during three of their home games. They had raised over one hundred thousand dollars in the hopes it could offset some of the medical bills that had accumulated.
The girls and boys basketball teams had also done a fundraiser, bringing in nearly thirty thousand dollars. They had even had a bake sale over Christmas break to see if they could do something special for Mrs. Stevens. They had raised enough money to get her a plaque that now hung in the library's entryway, commemorating her athleticism from when she was a student up until present as she supported all the kids who played on the various teams her husband coached.
Every kid in the school had donated time to keep her house clean as she recovered as well. Some had mowed the yard on days she had chemotherapy, others had cleaned the house the days after chemo, and more still had just come over to keep her company while Coach Stevens had been at football practice. The student body had really stepped up to help one of their own in his family's time of need.
That had been the real reason Gray had volunteered to help. Mrs. Stevens had had to travel to San Francisco to see an oncologist to make sure the cancer hadn't spread. The only time they had available was the Tuesday of the tryouts. They were going to be canceled until Gray had stepped in to help.
Since there were only four people, Gray wasn't expected to do much. He was just supposed to note talents and quickness and to make sure everyone showed up. So far, he saw four people running around in blue and yellow pennies as they played shirts and skins.
One caught his eye. The goalie for the shirts team was very familiar. Gray watched as he shifted from side to side, using his legs to keep him balanced. He was shouting commands to his defense. Right. Left. Forward. Back, back, back. Corner kick. He was very smart in the way he controlled the game. He even blocked one of Nathan's attempts on goal, trapping it in his torso and folding over on it so no one could kick it.
Gray looked down at his clipboard. Wynn Esposito. It was the new kid he had met in homeroom the day before. He hadn't known he could play soccer. He had known he could draw by the sketch he had seen on his desk when Jarrod had pretty much assaulted him.
"Did he sign the list last semester?" he asked.
Artie looked at him, silver whistle hanging out of his mouth. "I'm not sure. I thought they had to be turned in last semester for anyone to be given a shot. Spenser signed up when he was transferred last semester. John and Chris have been trying to get on the team for two years. How the new transfer kid got a tryout spot is beyond me."
Gray looked down at his notes again before gazing back out onto the field. Nathan had replaced Wynn in goal and the new kid was running around the field. He didn't move towards the ball. Instead he shifted downfield until he was the only player anywhere near the defense.
He hovered, watching intently as his teammates in blue pennies slowly shifted towards him. He waited, feet shifting slightly before he planted his right foot and shot off. He crossed in front of his nearest teammate into the open lane. The ball was passed to him, and he planted his left foot as his right one struck the ball. It bent around one of the defenders and went over the head of the goalie, sliding down the back of the net before hitting the ground.
"That's European soccer at its finest!" Artie cheered.
Something about the way Wynn moved told Gray there was so much more about him. He wasn't just light on his feet. He had a sixth sense about where the ball was going to go before anyone ever thought about it. He moved with a sort of grace that Gray had only seen in one other person in his lifetime. It wasn't a ballerina or a gymnast or anyone who had been famous. The last person he had seen do that had been his mother, and she had died when he had been ten.
So why was there someone who moved as graceful as his mother roaming freely about the city? Could it be happening again?
Nathan called tryouts and everyone met at the water cooler. Wynn didn't interact with anyone near him. He tipped his head back and drank deeply from the cup. Gray noticed that his eyelashes were long and formed a dark crescent moons on his high cheekbones.
He looked down, dark eyes sliding to his left as he swallowed the mouthful of water and chewed on the ice. Still, he didn't say anything, opting to throw his cup in the trash and head for his bag. He sat on the grass and pulled his cleats off followed by his shin guards. He sat forward, stretching out his lower back and legs.
Wynn didn't care about the tryouts. He really didn't want to be part of the soccer team. He'd been a member of a private club for years before he'd moved here, and he had hoped he would never have to set foot on a pitch ever again. He had broken his hand last time he had played, and that had ended his season and his art for a few months. He had hoped he would be able to fully concentrate on his art. Unfortunately, his father hadn't thought the same.
But as soon as he had stepped back out on that grassy rectangle, his body had remembered the feeling of running up and down the length of one and a half football fields. He had remembered the feel of his muscles thrumming as he had stolen a ball and had gone in for the goal.
There had always been a distinct whistling in his ears as he had chased after a runaway forward or when he had dived to keep the ball from going in the goal. He had remembered everything the second he had laced up his cleats. His muscles had remembered everything in a matter of seconds. That was scarier than breaking his hand, but he had learned to live with those random outbursts.
A shadow fell over him, and Wynn squinted up into the shade. He couldn't see the student's face very well due to the sun shining brightly behind his head as if it were a halo, but he knew it was a boy by the pants.
"Wynn? I bet you don't remember me," he said.
Wynn cleared his throat. "I remember you, class rep." He flinched as the double S's in class slurred together due to his lisp.
Gray smiled, memorizing the lisp that he was bound to hear over the next four months. "I'm Gray Rivers. I didn't know you played soccer."
"There's a lot about me you don't know." Wynn stood and shoved his feet into his slides. Then he realized he had to look up at Gray. "Is there something you wanted?"
"I saw the picture you made in class yesterday. Where did it come from?"
The dark headed boy shrugged. "I just saw it in my mind and my hand worked before I even thought about it. Why do you care?"
Gray shook his head. "No reason. I just thought it looked really good. Maybe you should enroll in an art school instead of going to a regular college."
"I am, but it won't be here." He checked his phone. "Excuse me. I have to go home."
The blond watched him disappear through the softball team as it dispersed from its practice. There was more to that story. Wynn was either hiding something or he truly didn't know what he could do. What were the odds that he enrolled in their school?
"What is it, Gray?" Nathan asked. He rubbed his head with a towel hoping to get the sweat to subside.
"Something is up with the new kid. He drew this yesterday in class." Gray handed over a copy of a picture he had taken when Wynn hadn't been looking.
Nathan and Artie crowded around the piece of paper. "This looks exactly like the pictures I've seen depicting Tenor."
"That's what I thought too when I saw him drawing it," Artie agreed. He looked at the other two, mouth agape like a fish. "Do you think Jarrod saw this as well?"
"It would be foolish to think he didn't," Gray advised.
"That's not important right now," Nathan warned. The other two looked at him. "If he's what we think he is, who is he meant for? Who sent him, and why weren't we told? Gray, your father was told your mother was coming long before she arrived. That's how they fell in love, married and had you."
The son snorted. "Fat lot of good it did them."
"Stop. That's not why I say it. They had a choice. Your father could have shunned your mother. He could have refused to say anything to her, but he didn't. For whatever reason, the higher ups have sent this kid to us to find out who he is meant for."
Gray had a sinking suspicion he knew who Wynn was meant to meet. There weren't many in the group around him that would be suitable for an artist with a lisp. Only two people fit that description to a T, and one would use it to his supreme advantage.
"Should we add him to the soccer team?" Artie asked.
The blond shook his head. "He'll decline it. Who do we know in the art club?"
Nathan scratched his head. "Sky, Jacie, and Wes. If we're not adding Wynn, we should add Spenser. He's new as well. Jacie did well integrating into the art club. We need a place to shove Spenser for the next year."
"Go ahead. Nathan, Kevin, and Ollie will make sure he's fine. Layla is set in theatre with the Storm's."
Gray watched as his friends walked away. He knew who the others had planned to send Wynn to. It only made sense. But how could he convince people that it was the truth?
~~~~
Wynn waited for the doors to open then he stepped out of the pharmacy. His youngest sister's asthma medicine had run out at home and his mother had needed him to pick it up on his way back. Giuliana had weak lungs due to the condition and couldn't take running around outside too often. So she had helped their mother in the kitchen for as long as he could remember.
They were all nervous about when she was going to go to school because they had recess for all the kids, and she couldn't run without having an asthma attack.
He didn't blame anyone except their genetics. Their maternal grandmother had had severe asthma as a child, but it had eased when she had grown up. Francesca still had a bad respiratory system, and if a cold went too long, she ran the risk of getting pneumonia. Whenever the seasons changed, it was always a difficult time in their house.
He watched his classmates zoom by in the top model sports cars. Unlike his older brother, he had never really been interested in anything that went fast. He liked motorcycles because he didn't like being cooped up. He hated riding in his father's Bentley and he abhorred airplanes. His mother had to pretty much drug him just to get him to get on it to fly to America. He preferred motorcycles or simple bicycles to get around. Currently he was walking but it didn't matter. He wouldn't have to worry about it in a few short months.
The cars around him were loud as he walked across the street at the crosswalk. Whoever's bright idea it was to enhance a spoiler or whatever it was on the back of the car that made it loud needed to be jailed. How could it not be a hazard to those simply walking? He was so shocked every time a car with one roared by him that he almost jumped off the sidewalk three different times. Those stupid noises were a danger to society.
Wynn enjoyed being alone. He was finally able to shake off the last bit of adrenaline from the tryout. He didn't have to think about anything as the familiar rustle of gym shorts whisked against his thighs. His slides skidded across the ground every time he shuffled his feet. All those times he walked home from a practice with sweat running down his back was still fresh in his mind.
So was the pain from the break in his wrist when his feet had come out from under him and he had thrown his hands out to catch himself. He had done an awkward yoga pose that had snapped his wrist cleanly in two. That had nearly ended his art career, but through rehab he had gotten almost all of the motion back in it.
Someone grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. Wynn came face to face with Gray Rivers, the one who had been in charge of the tryouts. His smile was bright as he looked over Wynn's shoulder. It was only then did Wynn realize he had nearly stepped into traffic.
"Do you always zone out like that and nearly get yourself killed?" he laughed.
Wynn shook his head. "No. I was thinking."
"Don't do that too often. It will hurt you."
The shorter boy frowned a bit, mouth opening slightly. Gray realized he either didn't understand what he was saying or he had been insulted. He shifted backwards until he was completely out of Gray's grasp. They looked at each other for the longest before Wynn started on his way back home.
Gray fell into step with him without even thinking about it. Wynn didn't say anything to him so he had to fill in the gaps with nonsensical chatter. He talked about the weather, about the school, about the soccer team, even about the teachers who would fail him if he didn't bring them a bottle of wine. He felt like he just needed to fill the empty space with words because he didn't know how to bring up the drawing.
"Why are you following me?" Wynn blurted. He suddenly stopped and looked at Gray.
The other boy was mesmerized instantly by the light flames licking in the dark brown depths. This guy had no idea what was going on? He had no idea where his drawings came from? It was hard to believe because even at a young age Gray had known what was going on with him.
"Well?" Wynn prompted. He made a face that told Gray he wasn't playing around anymore.
"I just wanted to see how you were doing in school? Two days there and you've already garnered the attention of Jarrod Wainscott and tried out for the soccer team. Do you have an endgame or something?" he asked.
Wynn sighed. "My dad made me try out. I haven't played soccer in a little over a year since I broke my wrist. I quit soccer after that to focus on my art, which has gotten me into art school. So I don't care enough about it to make the team. I was threatened that if I didn't show up my dad would take all my art supplies and withdraw my application. I wasn't taking that risk. It will take way too long to get it readmitted."
"Where did you apply?"
"The University of Florence in Italy."
For some reason that made Gray's heart drop. He was leaving after being in the States for only four months. If what his gut was telling was true, he was only going to have a short time to work things out and figure out what was Wynn's purpose. There was more to him than just a mere artist.
"Are you only here because you were forced to be?" Wynn nodded and continued walking. Gray sighed and scratched his head as he followed. "That's not fair, but I guess your father had a reason."
"My older brother lives in Tuscany and takes care of my grandparents while he goes to school. My father didn't want me to be a burden even though Nonna Esposito and Nonno Ricci liked my cooking better. My parents moved them in together to make sure they were both well taken care of. All they do is fight."
"In-laws do that I guess."
Wynn wasn't buying any of the things Gray was spewing. Once again he stopped and looked at Gray. This time his expression wasn't as open as it had been merely five minutes ago. He was more thoughtful now than he had been.
"Why are you following me?" he asked. He shook his head when Gray opened his mouth to speak. "Don't lie to me. I know you rambled to keep me walking and talking, but now it's time to cut it out. Why are you following me?"
"Honestly?" Gray asked. Wynn sighed unhappily, almost as if he was getting angry. "I just want to know what your type is." It wasn't the exact truth but it got his attention.
Wynn looked at him, mouth slowly opening. His tongue peeked out briefly as he used the tip of it to wet his lips. "My type?"
"Yes… well… Jarrod outed you in front of the entire senior class and it's already made its way down to the underclassmen. I was just curious so I know what to tell them when you reject me."
"I don't date," Wynn rejected.
"You might want to consider it at least in name." The look Wynn gave him this time was scalding. He could feel his skin melting right off his bones right then. "If you at least go out with me in name, then no one will mess with you. By no one, I mean Jarrod Wainscott."
Wynn scoffed. "This just keeps getting better. Are you telling me Jarrod Wainscott is gay?"
Gray rocked his head from side to side. "Yes and no. He can float either way. I know because I dated him a few years ago. Then Neely moved here and he cheated. Naturally we broke it off. I don't deal well with cheaters of any sort. But if you want to protect yourself, you'll consider it."
"It's only my second day here. Why would I consider anything? I barely like any of you."
Shocked by his declaration, the blond just looked at him. "You'll understand soon enough. No one in Grahamville Heights will leave you alone for very long. You will have to choose a side. Even if you're here for four months only, you will need someone to rely on because someone will try to pick on you. This is the upper echelon of the county. Anyone who is anyone goes to this school. You will be a laughing stock if you don't choose somewhere to belong. Your sister already has. Are you?"
Wynn watched as Gray walked away from him and crossed the street. It was true Helena had found a place to call home in the school, but that didn't mean he wanted to. He didn't want to have any ties to hold him here. He was leaving at the end of June regardless of the friends he made. It made no sense for him to put anyone else in the same position as his family.
He walked the rest of the way home - a whole two blocks - but he couldn't stop the niggling he had at the back of his mind. Something about what Gray had said felt right. Like he hadn't been lying. And if he hadn't been lying, what was Wynn getting into?