Pinned By You

“WHKX Hawkins Radio here with your Thursday forecast, and folks… It’s a scorcher. Expect it to hit 100 degrees by noon, and the roads will be scorching enough to fry an egg. If you’re planning to be outside today, maybe don’t.”

I switched off the radio, then sank back into my seat and rolled down my window. The hot wind blasted through my hair; I kept having to spit strands away from my mouth. It was a losing battle from the start. No matter what I did, it always got frizzy. I sighed in defeat and propped my feet up on the dashboard, letting the warm breeze hit my face.

Steve’s eyes narrowed as he reached out and slapped my feet down. “Dude. How many times do I have to tell you; stop doing that?”

“Not enough,” I smirked, adjusting my weight in the seat to sit cross-legged instead.

He rolled his eyes, his hand reaching down to press the car’s built-in lighter before digging around the messy center console for his cigarettes. “What time will you be done?”

I shrugged. “Late, most likely. Why?”

He looked as if he’d aged a couple of years overnight. He had dark circles dragging under his eyes, worry lines creasing his forehead, and a few of his faded scars stood out much more prominently than others in the daylight.

“Because I’m not waiting, or driving up here twice,”

The dashboard lighter popped out with a soft click. He placed a cigarette in the corner of his mouth and held the glowing coil up to the tip, inhaling until it caught. One upside to this death trap existed: losing a lighter was never a concern.

I sighed and nodded reluctantly. “You know how it is, so no promises.”

He took a drag of his cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke out the window, his eyes darting to mine for a brief second. “Just don’t be late. Alright?” Steve muttered, as he focused back onto the road.

He’s such a delight in the morning.

I turned in my seat to face him, leaning my shoulder against the door panel. His posture was rigid, and his knuckles were tightly gripping the steering wheel.

“What’s got your panties in a bunch this morning?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “Dad? Mom?”

His jaw tensed instantly, as short silence stretched thin between us “Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I just… I have a lot on my mind right now.”

I looked at him, chewing the inside of my cheek as I studied his expression. I wanted to press further, but if he was already in a mood, it wasn’t worth an argument. Instead, I leaned forward and reached into the glove compartment, digging through a messy pile of CD’s. I pulled out a random case and dangled it.

“Why hold on to these?” I teased, “You know they make those plug-in dashboard screens with Bluetooth now, right?”“Just pick something, Julian.”

I mocked, then placed the disc into its slot. It whirred before Nirvana played through the speakers. I leaned back, resting my head against the headrest. His taste in music, at least, didn’t suck.

“Because,” he continued, drawing my focus back, “You can never go wrong with something that’s tangible. It’s reliable.” Steve tapped his fingers against the dashboard.

My eyes flickered to the stereo. Thoughts, prayers, and a lot of electrical tape were the only things that held it together.

“Yeah,” I scoffed, turning back to look out the window as we finally neared the gym parking lot. “Reliable, my ass.”

I’ve been in gymnastics since I was four years old. I didn’t like it at first, but my parents insisted, claiming it would teach me discipline. It did. Over time, though, I grew to love it, and it eventually became a safe place for me. And that’s where I first met Robin. We clicked instantly; she was like my twin flame.

What people failed to realize is that the Harrington name is more like a curse than a blessing. Because God forbid one of us ever slipped up. Our parents’ affection was treated like a prized trophy, which naturally led to my brother and me being constantly pitted against each other. As much as I hated to admit it to myself, I got jealous of Steve growing up. Still do, sometimes.

Nowadays, our relationship is nothing short of a shit show. Steve’s the outgoing, charismatic socialite—the ultimate golden boy.

When I came out as trans, it went as well as you’d expect. They were livid, of course. Said It was a stain on the family name. It hurt like pure hell, but back then, I was still convinced that if I just did anything and everything they asked of me, they’d finally see me. But if I had learned anything in my twenty years of life, it was that I couldn’t keep being the naïve kid who desperately sought their parents’ approval.

There were a lot of late-night screaming matches between my brother and our dad back then, and normally I got immediately banished to my room. I always had my music turned up full-blast so I wouldn’t have to hear them. It never really worked.

When we were younger, we used to be a hell of a lot closer. Now, we could barely stand to be in the same room together for five minutes without something being said. Steve got back into wrestling over the last couple of years and was currently on track to go pro. Meanwhile, I was sitting right at the top of my state for varsity gymnastics.The cutoff of the engine suddenly pulled me out of my thoughts. I quickly unbuckled and shot out of the passenger seat, grabbing my duffel bag before slamming the car door shut behind me.

I held up my hand to shield my eyes against the blinding morning sun. The YMCA took up half the local strip mall; the front facade was a massive glass window display case filled to the brim with outdated flyers, posters, and plastic mannequins wearing glittery leotards.

Real tacky shit, if you asked me.Behind me, Steve groaned loudly, leaning his weight against the sun-baked roof of the car. “The door, Juls. Do it again and you’re walking home,” he warned.

I rolled my eyes as a small smirk tugged at my lips, looking back over my shoulder. “The car is fine, Steve. It’s seen a hell worse.”

He was shooting daggers at me. “You’re not the one who has to work on it.”

“I helped,” I shot back.

Adjusting my duffel bag over my shoulder, I headed toward the curb while Steve lagged a few steps behind me, muttering something under his breath.

“No later than ten,” Steve called out. “I mean it, Juls. Don’t make me wait.”

I waved a dismissive hand over my shoulder, picking up my pace as I neared the entrance. “Yes, I heard you the last ten times.”

I reached the door first and held it open for Steve. The cool air hit us at once as we stepped inside. The receptionist, Elanor, looked up from her desk and smiled warmly at the sound of the door chime. She was a tall, blonde, middle-aged woman, and the sweetest person you’d ever meet.

“Hello, boys,” she called out cheerfully.

“Hey, pretty lady,” I smiled and reached across the desk to grab a cherry lollipop from the jar. I unwrapped it and stuck it straight into my mouth.

Before I could even take a second taste, Steve reached over my shoulder, yanked the lollipop out from between my lips, and popped it into his own.

“Hey, Mrs. E,” he grinned, unbothered.

I whipped around on my heel, glaring up at him. “Hey! Why the hell did you do that?”

His smug grin only widened. “Because I can. And besides, I didn’t eat breakfast.” He turned back to nod at Elanor, waving his hand as he backed away from the desk. “See you later, Mrs. E.”

I rolled my eyes hard, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re a literal child sometimes, you know that?”

He gave me a lopsided smirk, then turned to jog down the hallway before spinning backward to face me one last time, shooting a warning finger in my direction. “Ten, Julian.”

I squinted at his retreating form, annoyed.

“By any chance, do you want another son?” I asked, turning back to face Elanor.

She just shook her head, smirking fondly at the two of us. “I already have three boys at home, sweetheart. I don’t need another one.”

I groaned dramatically. “Well, I tried. See you later, Eleanor.”

The corridor branched out into two separate gyms on either side of the hallway, one side for boxing, and the other for gymnastics. I slipped through our double doors and headed for the locker room to get changed.

There was a sudden tap on my shoulder just as I reached for the door handle. I turned around, instantly coming face-to-face with my brother’s girlfriend, Nancy. I tried to hold back a grimace and instead forced a tight, polite smile.

She was your typical ‘American’ girl with the perfect figure, hair, and a pretty face. But as far as I was concerned, that’s all she had going for her. She’s also his on-and-off-again girlfriend. I could barely stand her, but I remained civil for Steve’s sake. I tried to at least.

And it wasn’t like she was some innocent angel, either; I’d seen the way she played into the attention of my brother, then turned around and did the same to Jonathan. It’s fucked up, and anyone who wasn’t thinking with their dick could see right through it.

“Hey, Nance. What’s up?”

“Hey, could you possibly ask your brother to give me a ride home after practice?” Nancy asked, smiling awkwardly as she shifted her weight.

How does she always have the worst timing?

I sighed, gesturing vaguely in his direction. “Why don’t you just ask him yourself?” I arched an eyebrow, shifting my weight to one foot.

Nancy’s smile tightened. She had her own car; I don’t know why she would want to ride in my brother’s piece of shit car. That thing was a rolling hazard.

“I didn’t want to bother him, and you know how his coach is,” she claimed.

“So... you decided to bother me instead? Just text him, Nance,” I said, pushing the locker room door open with my elbow.

“Well, y’all rode here together,” she remarked, crossing her arms over her chest.

I let out a sigh. “Thank you, Captain Obvious. That doesn’t mean I’m keeping track of his every move, though.”

She just stood there; her smile didn’t waver as she made the puppy dog’s eyes. I couldn’t tell if she was doing this on purpose just to annoy me or what, and that only made me even more irritated. But if it makes her go away faster, I’ll say anything.

I gave her an unamused look, then let out a low groan under my breath. “Fuck, fine. I’ll ask him.”

“Thank you,” she sang out, already spinning on her heels in the opposite direction before the words had even fully left my mouth.

I rubbed my temples and headed straight toward a changing stall. I quickly pulled on my leotard, hung my bag on the hook, and stepped back out to the mirror. The meet was only a few weeks away, and I’d been working my ass off. I was excited, but also very nervous about it. But despite that, I was confident enough to know that we had a real shot at this.

As I wrapped my wrists, a hand suddenly snaked around my shoulder. “Hello, my antisocial friend.”

I tensed before relaxing, shooting a glare into the mirror at Robin as I finished up and pulled my hair up into a tight bun, smoothing out the baby hairs at my neck.

“I hate when you do that. And I’m not antisocial- I just choose to not entertain the stupidity of others.”

Robin smiled and shrugged, leaning up against a locker across from me. “You love me, and you, my friend, have a social life the size of a walnut.”

“Okay, ouch. My social life is questionable at best, sure,” I playfully jabbed her side with my elbow. “But why have them when I have you?”

Robin dropped onto the bench next to me, reaching into her bag to grab a roll of athletic tape. “Very true,” she smiled.

“So, what made you late this time? Was it Vickie?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows.

Robin scoffed as I pulled my foot up to wrap my ankles.

“No, not entirely,” she sighed. “I woke up feeling anxious because we still have so much left to do. I ended up throwing up, and I didn’t eat yet-“

I quickly set my hand on her knee and gave a soft squeeze. “Robin, it’s okay. You’re gonna be fine. You’ve been working hard. We all have.”

Robin nodded, taking a shaky breath. I reached up and rubbed her back, feeling the tension start to ease in her shoulders. “We’re gonna kick ass, okay?” I offered her a warm smile. We had trained, practiced, and perfected our routine together for weeks.

I tilted my head back as the overhead vents rattled to life; I basked in the cool draft. This summer heat doesn’t play. As soon as you step out, you’re like a fountain of sweat.

“So how is our Stevey today? Does he have his usual stick up his ass?” She asked, a small smile cracking through.

I shrugged, tying off my ankle wrap. “What do you think?”

Recently, my brother came back after being out for three months because of a torn ACL, and it had caused a massive amount of tension at home. I knew it was hell for him being stuck under the same roof with our parents- whenever they actually bothered to show up, that is.

Robin gave a lopsided smile. “Bad day?” She asked, stuffing her duffel under the bench.

“You could say that, yeah.” I stood up and stretched, pulling one arm behind my head and then the other, feeling my muscles loosen up. “I’ll meet you out there.”

I stepped out of the locker room, leaving behind the silence. The gym was a mess of kids screaming, feet slamming against tumbling tracks, and coaches’ whistles echoing off the walls. The kids’ classes were in full swing for summer. I smiled as a group of six-year-olds ran past me in mismatched leotards. It was really cute.

I headed straight for the chalk bowl and dunked my hands into the chalk, making sure everything was evenly coated.

Suddenly, a set of familiar voices cut right through the noise of the gym, followed by a chorus of giggles. Curiosity got the better of me, and I turned around, seeing Nancy and her little group of plastics talking by the water fountains.

The second she caught my eye, she excused herself from the circle jerk and immediately started walking straight toward me.

Oh, shit.

I quickly snapped my gaze away from hers, gripping the edges of the chalk bowl. I frantically dusted the excess chalk off my hands. Please don’t come over here, please don’t—

“You look good, Julian. As always,” Nancy said smoothly as she walked up. She smiled warmly at me. Her voice was sweet, but it always carried that condescending edge.

I sighed, crossing my arms with the best fake smile I could manage as they approached.

Heather and Jazmine were close behind her, their smiles looking forced. Heather I could actually tolerate; she was sweet enough, but if she wore any more makeup, she’d look like a souped-up Barbie doll. And Jazmine—well, she was basically a carbon copy of Regina George.

“Uh, thanks. I guess.” I replied dryly. I rubbed my hands together, letting the excess chalk dust cloud between us.

“I talked to Steve, by the way, so I’m gonna ride with y’all. And-” She did a quick scan of me, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Steve invited me to Tommy’s party, so I’m inviting you. It’ll be fun.”

I stared at her for a second before a mischievous smirk slowly tugged at my lips. Oh, this was going to be fun. I had no intentions of going, but hell, might as well take this opportunity to mess with her.

“You know what? Sure, I’ll go,” I said, shifting my weight.

Nancy’s smile widened, and her eyes lit up. “Really?”

My face went deadpan as I shook my head, chuckling. “Nah, I’ll pass.”

Nancy’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, which made it even funnier. As she stammered, she looked back at her friends before glaring back at me. I smirked, brushing past her shoulder toward the floor mats before she could get another word out.

Asshole move? Probably. But I didn’t have the patience or the energy to deal with her today.

Robin caught up to me when I reached the mat, her eyes darting between Nancy’s retreating group and me. “What the hell was all that about?” she asked, mindlessly dusting a cloud of excess white chalk.

I shook my head, a small smirk pulling at my lips. “Nothing worth mentioning.”

“If you say so,” she murmured.

We stepped onto the larger floor mat together, the springs underneath the thick vinyl creaking softly with every step we took. I turned around to face her, an idea sparking in my mind. “Want to make this a little more interesting?”

Robin’s eyes lit up instantly as a matching smirk pulled at her lips. “Sure. What’s the stakes?”

I grinned, letting out a low chuckle. “Loser has to clean Steve’s car for an entire month.”

She rolled her eyes, moving off to the far edge of the mat to find her starting position. “You have got to be kidding me. I won’t be able to get that gross, teenage-boy funk off for weeks,” she countered.

“Then don’t lose,” I grinned.

As I stepped out into the center of the floor, I went through a quick final set of stretches, feeling a satisfied pull in my muscles.

Inhale.

I centered myself, blocking out everything else as I lifted my arms high above my head, facing the empty floor. Everything else faded away, and for the first time all day, I was where I was supposed to be.

Exhale.