Goodbye Bro

— Damn, man, never thought I'd say this, but Fred, fuck, turned into a goddamn bitch! — Steve slammed his fist on the table, frowning.

Mark sat across from him, holding back a laugh.

— And what did she do to piss you off so much? — he raised an eyebrow, keeping his gaze fixed on his angry friend.

— What did she do? Everything! — Steve leaned forward sharply, his face turning red. — You know how hard I worked to get into college? And then—just to stay on the team? We played together, man. Fred was my partner, my goddamn captain! And now... — he sighed heavily, as if unsure how to continue. — Now she wears these... these... rags!

— Hold on, — Mark leaned forward slightly to pour himself some water. — Is this all because she changed a few months ago? Or does it bother you that she switched to gymnastics?

— Not just that! — Steve slammed into the back of his chair, his eyes burning with anger. — You have no idea! She purposely showed up at our last game!

— So what? — Mark was starting to lose his patience. — She has every right to come.

— She sat in the front row, Mark! — Steve nearly yelled. — All in that tight suit, like she was doing it on purpose to distract everyone! I saw our guys staring at her, even the coach forgot about the game!

Mark thought for a moment. This detail was new to him.

— And because of that, you lost?

— Of course we lost! — Steve slammed his fist on the table again. — We lost so badly, it was humiliating. She sat there, laughing, like she was enjoying it.

— You're exaggerating, — Mark said, though deep down, he was getting more and more interested. — She probably just wanted to support you guys. After all, before turning into a girl, she was your captain.

Steve snorted, rolling his eyes, and leaned back in his chair as if he'd just heard the most ridiculous thing.

— Support us? Are you serious? Have you even seen how she looks now? What the hell, captain? — He leaned forward sharply, his face turning red. — You think she showed up for “support”? No, man, she came to feed her own ego or whatever she has now. Fred, fuck, has totally gone soft! Sitting there all... you know, like a goddess, in those rags, and the guys are drooling, forgetting that this was our buddy Fred! And she just kept giggling while the coach stared at her like some high school kid.

Mark crossed his arms over his chest, looking thoughtful.

— You're making too much of it. Maybe you're just jealous?

— Jealous? — Steve burst out laughing, but the laugh was more out of anger than amusement. — Do you even realize what you just said? I, fuck, jealous of this... pff... I don’t even know what to call it anymore, him, her... No, I definitely wouldn’t want to be in her shoes! Especially seeing what she’s become! She doesn’t have a damn thing masculine left in her! She’s probably su***g cock somewhere in an alley!

Mark grunted, stifling a laugh, but his expression grew thoughtful.

— Steve, you’re going too far, — he raised a hand, as if trying to stop his friend’s flood of anger. — You're reacting so emotionally, it's starting to feel like it's personal.

Steve exhaled heavily and closed his eyes.

— Fine, maybe I went overboard, — he grumbled. — But just think about how it feels to see your best friend, your captain, who was the epitome of strength and courage... like this.

— I get it, — Mark nodded, though his voice sounded more curious than judgmental. — But I’m still sure you’re exaggerating.

Steve thought for a moment, then pulled out his phone from his pocket, quickly scrolling through the screen.

— Exaggerating, huh... Alright, alright, let’s see what you say about this, — Steve grumbled, leaning over his phone. His fingers moved quickly across the screen until he stopped, straightened up, and seemed to prepare to drop a killer argument. — Here. Here it is.

He turned the screen towards Mark.

Mark leaned closer, looking at the photo. Two girls were standing together, hugging. Their gymnastic leotards in blue and yellow clung tightly to their slender figures, accentuating their athletic proportions. One of the girls—the one on the left, with light hair—looked especially striking, her confident smile and radiant posture drawing the eye.

Mark squinted, trying to figure out what exactly caught his attention in the photo. He focused on the line of the jaw, frowned a little, and finally said:

— Damn… is that really Fred? — His voice sounded as though he’d just seen something impossible.

— Yes! That’s Fred! — Steve exploded, almost pointing at the screen. — There she is, our former football star! Now a goddamn cheerleader! Fuck, just look at how pleased she is! Where the hell is the male pride? What the hell is this!? Why is she showing off her ass!?

Mark held his gaze on the photo and couldn’t stop a brief chuckle. His face seemed frozen between embarrassment and blatant interest.

— Showing off her ass? — he repeated, raising an eyebrow and trying not to laugh. — Steve, she’s just posing like all athletes do. It’s normal for gymnasts and cheerleaders. Chill.

— Chill!? — Steve threw up his hands, as if ready to tear that argument apart. — Do you even realize how it looks to everyone who knew her? This was our former captain! She could’ve been the face of the team, and now... now she’s the face of some glossy magazine for... for... well, you get it!

Mark laughed, leaning his elbows on the table.

— You know, honestly, I get her. With a body like that, it’s a crime not to show off.

— Are you serious? — Steve frowned angrily, as if he were about to slap his friend upside the head. — You’re talking like you... you...

— Like I also think she’s hot? — Mark cut him off, barely hiding his smirk. — What about you? Let’s be honest, Steve. When you looked at that photo, you didn’t for a second think she looked... well, you know.

Steve fell silent, his face turning red. He looked away, clearly uncomfortable.

— Listen, go fuck yourself with questions like that, okay? — he finally spat out. — This... this... isn’t right.

Mark shook his head, still grinning. He was clearly enjoying how his friend was getting tangled up in his own emotions.

— Uh-huh, — he muttered, pretending to return to his glass of water. — So, where’d you find that photo?

Steve frowned.

— Who cares? Found it online. Probably one of her “friends” posted it. They’re all the same now: “friendship, support, girl power,” all that crap.

— Uh-huh, — Mark dragged out, still not tearing his eyes away from the screen. — And where exactly did you find it? Come on, admit it.

Steve suddenly tensed, frowning even more.

— What? You too... — he looked at his friend like he was a traitor. — Listen, I showed you this so you’d understand how bad it’s gotten! Not so you could, you know, ogle her!

Mark shrugged, hiding his grin.

— Oh, come on, I’m just asking. It’s interesting. The photo’s great.

Steve opened his mouth, clearly about to say something, but then just waved his hand and turned away, muttering something like: “What’s wrong with you all...”