“Do it,” Coach Strong said directly to him.
Ben took his place again. “Do it!” he said to himself.
Then, boos. Boos that rose in multiplied voices and volume as Coach Strong took him around his middle to hoist again.
“Booo!”
Ben’s heart skipped. See: He looked up at the bar. Smell: He inhaled the scent of the mats. Vinyl, just like at the practice gym. Touch: He moved his toes to feel through his socked foot the mat beneath it. Hear: He tuned in to the creak of the other equipment. Taste: Chalk dust was dry and bitter on his tongue, just like it should be. Ben focused on only those five things, even as he assumed the boos were for him, either because he was gay, or because everyone knew he was lying when he said he wasn’t. 41
Kale Omlet’s son had managed to procure his pop’s laptop.
“Well, well, well.” He spoke to his own face. His picture was his father’s screensaver. “I’ll be damned, old man. I didn’t know you cared.”
The next hurdle was figuring out the password.