The jeers and taunts about him being 'gay' had ended when Grant was adopted.The jeers and taunts about him being 'gay' had ended when Grant was adopted. Living in Cal's room, no one, not even Denny, dared to make a comment about the little ten-year-old boy being 'gay'. Rafael enjoyed his fleeting popularity, grinning happily as he went up the stairs to his 'new' bedroom. It wasn't any different to the one he'd lived in with Grant, except that Cal never picked up anything and the room was a perpetual mess. It was only when Mr. Edwards became angry that Cal did anything at all to clean up the mess. The boy sat down on his bed and smiled. For the first time in months Rafael felt proud, a joy in his heart because he was the 'hero'. His narrow chest was still heaving with excitement and the effort of his long, long run in the darkness, He had swerved, ducked and weaved through the other boys as they loomed out of the darkness. He could barely see but his eyes had searched for the concrete paving that marked the edge of the field and then made a wide swing to the left to score in the center of the soccer goal- posts. Rafael stretched sleepily, placing his hands behind his neck and arching his back with feline grace. He yawned. Luckily the next day was Sunday and he would get to sleep in an extra hour before he had to get up and attend the 'service' that Mr. Edwards held outside every Sunday, unless it was raining of course. |