Jumbo by Todd Young Read Free Book Online Page B

haven’t done anything.”
    Mitchell stumbled across the room and found his underwear. He stepped into it and pulled it up, pulling the waistband a little high, before he looked down at his groin and saw how hopeless it looked in a pair of tighty-whities, the pouch empty and crumpled. Pete was staring at it. Mitchell’s eyes brimmed with tears.
    “That’s my cock,” he said, though he knew as soon as he said it that it was a stupid thing to say. “I was trying to make it — I’m trying to do something about it .” On the last word he crumpled and sat down on his bed, putting his head in his hands and beginning to cry hopelessly.
    Pete stood over him, not saying anything, not moving.
    “Don’t you have a problem?” Mitchell said, after moments had passed. He stole a glance at Pete. Pete shook his head. Mitchell turned his head down and stared at Pete’s runners. Silence for what seemed like minutes. Time seemed to stretch on interminably.
    “So you’re not so perfect then?” Pete suddenly said.
    Mitchell lifted his head. “ What? ”
    “You’re not the perfect boy.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Little Angel Face is missing something in the downstairs department.”
    Mitchell felt his bottom lip fold into his mouth.
    “Little mommy’s favorite is a freak.”
    “Favorite?”
    “And Dad’s.” Pete laughed. “That’s funny,” he said. He had his hands on his hips now. “I thought you had it made.”
    Mitchell wiped his tears away and stood up. “I’m not anybody’s favorite.”
    “Oh, no,” Pete said sarcastically. “Not on the swim team. Not the one with the grades. Not the one with the face. Not the one with the body. You’re nothing, are you Mitchell?”

13
    The following day at school, Mitchell sat next to Sarah in physics. He had been aiming to get a seat next to Tadd, though as he walked toward Tadd, Tadd had looked at him with a sort of funny look, as though he was saying, “Don’t come sit next to me, Little Dick.” Tadd could be so weird sometimes, though after Mitchell had passed him, he had seen Tadd raise his hand, and had heard Robby Michaels say, “Taddster!”
    Mitchell sat at the next bench, though he only realized as he sat down that Sarah was already sitting there, and that he was sitting down beside her.
    “Hi,” he said.
    Sarah said hi and mentioned how she had seen him at swim training yesterday. “That’s pretty impressive, the way you can backstroke. My head goes under.”
    “It’s not that hard.”
    They stared at each other for a moment or so, Sarah’s eyes flitting all over his face, though she then turned away. They didn’t talk again until the end of the class, and that was only to say, “See you.”
    Mitchell toyed with the idea of asking her out. He supposed he could do it, though he didn’t know where it would lead. He certainly didn’t want a girlfriend. Some of the guys, occasionally — not just guys on the team — had ribbed him about never having a girlfriend. He had never had one, not since the seventh grade, a girl called Amanda who had left West River High and gone to live in Rittersville. If Mitchell asked Sarah then he supposed it would be like that — stupid — because it had been stupid, though Sarah and he would be expected to do something more than simply hold hands — kiss, and, well .... Mitchell shook his head. He simply couldn’t do it. He put the thought out of his mind.
    That afternoon, Sarah was at training again. He waved to her and she waved back, and he supposed he would have to go over and speak to her once training was over, but as he picked up his gear he saw Luke walking towards her and he supposed he could get out of it. He could tell her he had been in a hurry. He turned and began to walk toward the showers, only realizing, as he did so, that he wanted to slow down. He didn’t want to get there before Luke, though he didn’t see how he could really avoid it.
    He had got used to the idea of the corner