Tackling the Subject Read online

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  Tackling the Subject

  ISBN # 978-1-78651-586-5

  ©Copyright Jon Keys 2017

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright July 2017

  Edited by Jamie D. Rose

  Pride Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2017 by Pride Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, UK

  Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  TACKLING THE SUBJECT

  Jon Keys

  Sam struggles with issues from high school and his biology tutor triggers them all. Gordy isn’t sure he wants to deal with the trouble Sam represents.

  Sam Doherty, a twenty-two-year-old computer science major, is struggling to pass the required classes in biology. While Sam is out and proud, he’s secretly dealing with an assault he suffered in high school. Sam may be the president of the campus Gay-Straight Alliance, but he’s struggling to find balance in his life. When he realizes he needs help with his class, he signs up for a biology tutor, but the guy who arrives for their meeting sets off all his triggers.

  Gordy Hager is a biology whiz kid, the best tutor at the University Help Center—and the star tackle on the football team. Sam despises him at first sight. Gordy is the brainless caveman athlete that Sam still has nightmares about. Unable to control his reactions, he drives Gordy away and makes it plain he will never ask for his help. One week and a failed quiz later, Sam knows he has to swallow his pride.

  But while Gordy might be a nice guy, he isn’t going to help someone as insulting as Sam. Sam’s determination pays off, and he gets Gordy’s assistance, but his grades are only the first pothole their relationship hits. From their discovery that they both are gay, to supporting each other against family, their connection has more than its share of issues. But when their worst fears come to fruition, they struggle with a way to save Gordy’s college football career and face Sam’s issues of intimacy.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Volkswagen: Volkswagen of America Inc.

  Goodwill: Goodwill Industries International Inc.

  Wranglers: Wrangler Apparel Corp

  Pop-Tarts: Kellogg N.A. Company

  Monopoly: Hasbro Inc.

  Facebook: Facebook Inc.

  Red Cross: American Red Cross Incorporated Association

  Miracle Whip: Kraft Foods Group Brands LLC

  Tarzan: Edgar Rice Burroughs

  Texas A&M: The Texas A&M University System of Higher Education

  University of Texas: Board of Regents, The University of Texas System Governing Body

  Chapter One

  A shaft of light landed on the thick red hair covering Sam’s forearm. He shifted a little deeper into the tomb-quiet, cavernous room. The rows and rows of books in their order and symmetry had always comforted him—just like writing code for new software, which he was kick ass at doing. There should be logic to biology, too. It might not be obvious, but somewhere in all that squishiness it had order. Sam liked things that had order.

  He glanced at the screen of his computer. No new mail. Their appointment was at three. Not three-o-five. Sam was already angry that he’d had to ask for a tutor. Well, really more embarrassed that some whiz kid had to explain the confusing field of biology. Sam resented the hell out of it. Mutation? Computers didn’t mutate. Code didn’t mutate. It was driving him crazy.

  He glanced at his watch again. Two more minutes. He sighed and reminded himself that he had to pass this class. It was one of those courses he’d had to take outside his major. If I wanted to know about meiosis and mitosis, then I’d take the class on my own. But the university thinks I need to be educated about crap I don’t care about.

  The air conditioner came on and a shaft of cool air blew across him. It carried an almost antiseptic tang along with the faint musty scent of books printed before his grandparents’ time. He glanced at the screen on his watch. Another minute and he’ll be late. It figures.

  Sam stretched his long legs, letting his flip-flops dangle from his bare toes. He realized someone had invaded his part of the library’s fifth floor. His frown deepened when he recognized it was one of the brainless hulks from the football team. Sam tensed as the lumbering brute moved closer. Go away. Go back to your cave and leave normal people alone.

  His discomfort level grew as the guy walked toward him. Short dark hair, western shirt, jeans and boots. Well, he’s at the right university. Their distance narrowed and Sam dropped his gaze in the hope he would pass without stopping. His nervousness built until, by the time they were side by side, there was a slight tremble going through his body and bile in his mouth. Triggers from years past fired like a cheap six-gun. He tensed even further when the guy stopped beside him. Sam was angry and his appraisal turned into a glare he shot at the lummox. But before he said anything, he heard.

  “Are you Samuel Doherty?”

  At first, it startled Sam that the guy had his name. But his rancor flared when he realized the man was reading it from a card and held a copy of his biology textbook under one arm. This is my tutor? It’s bad enough I need help at all. This makes it insulting. He looked up and scowled. “Yes, I’m Sam.”

  “Cool. I’m Gordy, your biology tutor.”

  Sam sat stunned, staring in disbelief at the person they’d sent. Without considering the consequences, he blurted out. “Wasn’t there anyone else?”

  Gordy lifted an eyebrow and gave him a quiet expression of disapproval. “I aced the class you’re failing, so I’m quite capable of helping you. But it’s up to you if you want my assistance or not.”

  Sam sat without moving then realized the jock—What’s his name? Gordy?—was still waiting for an answer. Just getting help from one of the university jock squad had his muscles taut with anger and distaste. But the midterm was coming, and he had to pass this class. If this was who the Help Center had assigned him, then he was capable of
helping Sam. But with feelings approaching hatred, Sam didn’t understand how he would get the assistance he needed from Gordy. It had to be a damn football player?

  “I can go if you want. I had to rearrange everything to meet with you today, so…” Gordy said.

  Sam swallowed hard. I have to suppress my feelings. I don’t know him. He might be a good guy. I suppose that’s possible. That’s one of the goals from the therapist. That I shouldn’t paint everyone with the same broad strokes. Gordy frowned and turned to go, leaving Sam to his private corner.

  “Hang on. Yeah, I need help. Damn biology.”

  Gordy rounded the table and stopped opposite Sam. They studied each other for a long minute before Gordy took the last steps and sat beside him. Sam’s nose wrinkled. Gordy had the faint scent of sweat, bringing back those awful, secret memories. He had to fight the urge to put his hand over his nose to lessen the odor.

  “You’re in Bio 101, right?” Gordy asked.

  Sam pulled his sleeve down his arm and pressed his nose against it. Gordy’s funk was all he could think about.

  “Yeah, Bio 101 with Hawthorne.”

  “The labs or the lectures?”

  “Both. Some of it I don’t get.” Sam considered for a minute. “Actually, I don’t get most of it. It isn’t logical.”

  Gordy stopped flipping through the textbook and studied Sam. “It is logical. It all follows patterns and systems. What’s your major?”

  “Computer science. You can’t get more structured than that. It’s all ones and zeros. I understand it well enough that campus IT hired me.”

  “Biology is all made of elements. From there, you get molecules and everything else. That’s basic.”

  Sam ground his teeth, losing his nonexistent patience with his overrated tutor. Gordy’s odor had expanded and had become a distinctive metallic note on the back of his tongue.

  “Okay. According to Dr. Hawthorne’s syllabus, you’re at the part of the textbook covering cell division. Does that seem about right?”

  He slid the opened textbook over to Sam and leaned closer to check the information at the beginning of the chapter. The odor strengthened and the heat coming from Gordy’s body was obvious. Sam scrubbed his knuckles across his nose, becoming more frustrated with each passing moment.

  Gordy bounced his leg as he explained a particular part of the complicated heredity equation, which Sam understood none of.

  “Are you getting this? It’s confusing. A lot of people have trouble understanding how it works.”

  Sam’s anger flared again, but he calmed himself. “Yeah, it’s not bad. The cells split, the chromosomes split, everything splits. But it’s so boring. How do you keep it all in your head?”

  Gordy considered him for a moment. “You get the numbers, then. Do the structures make sense to you? Are you having trouble remembering the details?”

  Sam knew his face must be bright red. This jock wasn’t going to talk to him as if he was a fifth grader. He decided the time had come for him to let Gordy understand how he felt. “Look. I’m good at my major and can remember several computer languages. I wouldn’t be taking this stupid biology class if I didn’t have to so I can graduate. And what I don’t need is attitude from a damn jock.”

  Gordy pushed away from the table and his shirt billowed then fell against his chest, filling the surrounding air with the musky scent Sam found so offensive. That was the last straw. He lost what tiny amount of decorum he had.

  “Oh my God, you stink. You smell like a goat or something. Don’t you ever shower?”

  Gordy stared at Sam until the tension between them was palpable. His heavy eyebrows twisted together until the space between them almost disappeared. A muscle in his jaw knotted and unknotted so fast that it seemed to jump. His lips pressed together hard until all that remained was a tight slash across his lower face. Gordy dragged the textbook back and it was obvious that only strength of will allowed him to close the book with just a soft thud. He tucked the tome under his arm and started down the aisle.

  “That’s it? The whiz kid of biology is running off without doing his job? Isn’t that just typical? Well, run, Mister Football Stud, and take the funky locker room stink with you.”

  Gordy stopped, his muscles tensing as he drew in a breath and held it for a minute before turning to Sam. He stalked closer, leaning into Sam until their faces were inches apart. Light flashed across his deep brown eyes, and the amber filigree that surrounded the iris seemed to be molten lava. Sam recognized a trace of mint on Gordy’s breath as they glared at each other.

  Gordy bit off his first words. “So, you think I stink? Some of us don’t have everything handed to us. We have to work to pay for school. You’re the one who whined to Connie in the Help Center and said you had to get help today. I rearranged my schedule, did my workout early to shower and get here on time. And what you smell is soap. I don’t know what your problem is, but it started long before I got here.”

  Rage, indignation and a slight amount of fear coursed through Sam as he stared at the big linebacker. He refused to let himself be intimidated by their differences in size. He’d never let someone bully him again. “I thought you could be professional and do your job. But I guess if it’s not football, you don’t give a fuck about it. I’m sure you’re already getting paid for this session, so why don’t you shuffle off to meet with your no-neck Neanderthal buddies to talk about trying to intimidate the person who paid you to help them.”

  Gordy’s jaw clamped down hard and the bouncing jaw muscle became a fixed point. “Before I lose what little cool I still have left, I’m leaving, but you’re an ass.”

  “At least I’m not a mindless thug who picks on people smaller than them and enjoys it.”

  Gordy grabbed his bulging backpack and tossed it over his shoulder as if it were weightless. He turned to Sam again. His expression contained more pity. “You have issues. You should get help.”

  Rage flared in Sam as Gordy turned and made his way off the floor.

  “Wait a minute!” Sam yelled.

  “Hey. Keep it down. I’m trying to study for a chem test and I can’t concentrate.”

  Sam glanced in time to see the person who had scolded him disappear behind his desk. By the time he turned back, Gordy was gone.

  Sam ground his teeth as he gathered his bag. He would pass this class, and he didn’t need the help from a muscle-bound jock.

  * * * *

  Gordy tried to focus on helping Sarah with the tamales she was making. He’d worked for weeks talking her into making a batch of the labor-intensive treats. He’d eaten them before at various Mexican restaurants but had never been impressed. Then his best friend Nate’d had him over to try the version his then-girlfriend made. They had been delicious. Since then, he’d nagged Sarah constantly for more of the cornhusk-wrapped delicacies.

  Sarah peered over his shoulder. “I don’t want it too hot. Just melt the lard and it makes it easier to stir with the masa. It’s one of the tricks of my tamales.”

  Gordy stirred the contents of the saucepan carefully before he shot Sarah a grin. “Are you kidding? I’ve been trying to get you to make more tamales since yours and Nate’s wedding. I’m planning to do exactly what you tell me to do”—Gordy’s expression tightened—“unlike the idiot who signed up for tutoring today. He was an ass.”

  “Gordon Hager, watch your mouth,” Sarah scolded him.

  Gordy rolled his eyes at Nate but apologized. “Sorry, Sarah, but he was. He said I stunk and that I was an ignorant jock. I’ll have him know that I’d just showered before going to the library. And it wasn’t like I asked him to meet on Sunday. Pis…” He glanced at Sarah as she shredded the pork. “Pulling something like that ticks me off.”

  “What was his major?”

  “Computer science. He said biology didn’t make sense.”

  Nate chuckled as he ate one of the cookies Sarah had made. “The whole school thing isn’t as easy for some of us as it is for you.”
>
  Gordy rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. He concentrated on filling the tamales, folding them and stacking them in the steamer. When the first layer was finished, she turned to Gordy with a smile.

  “He was cute, wasn’t he? You thought he was cute.”

  Gordy frowned at her. “That had nothing to do with it. He was such a jerk. It was unbelievable.”

  Sarah carefully spread a layer of the tamale dough over the cornhusk and handed it to Gordy. After a few minutes passed, Sarah began to talk. “What’s he look like?”

  Gordy refused to meet her gaze. “I don’t know. About my height. Skinny. You know, typical college guy.”

  Nate came around the counter to help fit the last of the tamales into the steamer. They finished the final layer, put on the lid then Nate carried it to the stove. He turned and wrapped his arms around Sarah and grinned at Gordy. As always, Gordy couldn’t keep from thinking what a beautiful couple they made. Nate’s muscular body and mahogany coloring were the perfect foil for Sarah’s bright red curls and porcelain skin. He started to mention to them again about what a good-looking couple they made, but Nate waved dismissively.

  “Stop stalling. What aren’t you telling us? You’re avoiding the questions more than I did when I was telling my mother I’d proposed to Sarah.”

  “And how did that go?”

  Nate grinned. “We’re married. She speaks to us. If we ever have kids, she’ll be happier, but then she’s that way with my brothers and sisters. And we did go through the whole marriage thing.”

  “Good information, even if I think my parents will implode when they find out their oldest son likes dudes.”

  “They did fine when they met your black roommate. Give them a little slack. But you’re stalling. What is it about difficult-tutor-boy that makes you grin every time you talk about him?”