Free Is He Or Isn't He? by John Hall

never had any interest in sports so he didn’t know the rules of any of the games. And gym class was nothing but games. Baseball, football, basketball, volleyball. All he knew wasthat the balls came in different shapes and colors.
    Yet because he was a guy, he was supposed to love sports. He was supposed to want to spend hours in front of the TV watching groups of guys running after a ball.
    Ugh!
    He had better things to do with his time.
    Okay, some of the players did look good in their form-fitting uniforms, but that wasn’t enough of a reason for him to watch.
    Gym class was a breeze in September because they often went out to Central Park and jogged. In October and November, they played football and basketball. Those games were never a problem. He could just run away from the ball—making it look like he was running after the ball, of course—and let his teammates who were into the game handle it.
    December was the month he hated most. That was when they played volleyball. Anthony shuddered. Volleyball was the one game where you couldn’t run away from the ball. If the ball was headed your way, you better hit it. Or else.
    Anthony knew about or else .
    On more than one occasion, he had missed hitting the ball when it came in his direction. Or he’d cringed at an approaching ball, afraid of getting hit, using his hands to shield his face. He’d had more than one irate teammate scream at him, “Are you blind ?! Hit the frigging ball!”
    â€œHey, Ants!”
    He looked up at the sound of Max’s voice. Anthony had gotten to class late and found a spot at the back of the gym. Max must have been hidden out of sight in one of the front rows.
    Anthony did a double take when he got a look at Max.
    Okay, it was time to rethink gym class.
    Max looked fine.
    Mighty fine.
    Unlike Anthony, Max’s gym uniform fit him perfectly. His shorts weren’t baggy and his T-shirt, instead of being loose and flowing, was tight and form-fitting.
    Like Anthony, he was drenched in sweat, but his sweat wasn’t in big messy patches. He looked cool and comfortable, like someone who had just stepped out of a TV commercial, and his hair was all in place, yet slick with moisture.
    Did this guy ever not look good?!
    Anthony shuddered to think what he looked like. Not his best. And definitely not cover model material. He wasn’t a ninety-eight-pound weakling, but he wasn’t buff and muscular the way Paolo was; his older brother had gotten all those family genes.
    Max punched Anthony playfully on the shoulder. “This guy’s pretty tough. I haven’t had a workout like that in ages.”
    â€œCoach Harris knows how to crack the whip.”
    â€œHe’s better than my personal trainer.”
    â€œYou have a personal trainer?”
    â€œOnly three times a week.” Max looked around, then leaned in close to Anthony. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. When I was younger, I was kind of chubby. No, that’s not true. I was fat. Kids at my old grammar school used to call me Maximum because I was so big. I had the worst sweet tooth. Still do.”
    â€œYou’re not fat any more. You’re all muscle.”
    Max lifted his T-shirt and slapped a hand across his abs.“That’s ’cause I work at staying in shape.”
    Oh my god, he has a six-pack!
    â€œA couple of years ago, it was all flab,” Max said. “Exercise made the difference, but I outgrew some of it, too. How about you? You look like you’re pretty fit.”
    He thinks I look fit?!
    Calm down, Anthony. He’s only making an observation. It’s not like he’s declared his love!
    Much to Anthony’s disappointment, Max pulled down his T-shirt, hiding his mesmerizing abs. But their disappearance helped. Anthony no longer felt like a powerless mouse being hypnotized by a hungry snake. He was able to focus again.
    â€œI’m not an exercise junkie, but I try to watch