Chad heard Tyrone cursing outside Todd's locker, after Todd left, and after Tyrone returned from the Lost and Found. Tyrone thought he was alone.
"Damn, cracker. Couldn't Chad just follow directions once. He dint, now he's a jockstrap. Towel boy said, "Coach emptied lost and found. So either Chad's landfill or coach's latest sniff and cum rag? Or maybe, Chad got mixed in with his own clothing. Not like he'll be needing any of this stuff, too bad most of it's too small for me? Aha, two jockstraps! Could one of them be Chad?"
No. Asshole, I'm in Todd's locker. Wait, what the fuck? Tyrone, you're my bud, my teammate, why would you turn me into Todd's jockst- oh, you meant for me to be your jockstrap. Jockstrap Chad was furious. Now Tyrone not only had turned him into a jockstrap, and lost him, but the so-called friend was ransacking his locker.
"Heh, heh, even his photo ID doesn't have his name anymore, and the photo is of a jockstrap!" laughed Tyrone as he rifled through Chad's wallet. "Wonder if the gift cards are still good? ATM probably's not. Cash is cash. Hell, I'll take all his stuff. It'll just end up in lost found if I don't. 'cepting for Chad, and me, nobody's gonna remember jock boy. I know I'll have these jockstraps bronzed, and use them for bookends!" Tyrone packed up Chad's only possessions, and left. It was going to be a long weekend.
Hanging helplessly in the dank locker in utter silence for hours was driving Chad mad. He spent the first four hours screaming and ranting at Tyrone. Then he spent the next six hours lamenting his current state. Damn, couldn't jockstraps sleep? Oh, guess not, He heard some activity at last, but it was the sound of a mop and bucket cleaning the floors. It was the janitorial staff. Chad was sure someone would come looking for him. They would check his locker right? Wait. If his picture ID showed a jockstrap, then what did his family photos look like? His parents must be freaking, or- ? He wasn't sure. But no one seemed to come looking.
Finally, it was Monday morning, and Chad heard the lock on Todd's locker spinning. He then heard voices.
"Okay, Todd, let's get you suited up and start your marathon training," said a male voice.
Todd answered, "You really don't have to do this, uh, Snake."
Snake? That dude Jason Tyler was coaching Todd for a marathon? He was buff. He used the weight room, but he wasn't on cross country or any other team, was he?
"No, but you do, Todd," replied Snake.
Todd was silent. He stripped under Snake's unflinching eye. He pulled on Chad, his t-shirt, short, and then socks and shoes.
"Don't want anyone to know you're training for this. So you'll run in the field house track," said Snake.
"I thought it was locked?"
"I got a key."
Silently the two left. Todd's movement suggested to Chad that he didn't want to be doing this either.
He heard the click of the lock, And the sound of the field house door opening. Snake hattd a key? Was he working with Tyrone to do this to Chad? Would Todd be next?
"Okay, Todd, lose everything but the jockstrap," Snake ordered.
"Huh? Wha-"
"Running barefoot will help condition your feet for the marathon, and you can run faster wearing only a jockstrap. On race day, I'll have something more suitable for you to wear- maybe even lighter weight than just that jock. But you need to wear that jock to keep from groin injuries."
"Okay, Snake," said Todd in defeated tones. Under his breath, he hissed, "Shoulda known Snake is a perv."
Snake pulled out his stopwatch, and pointed at the clay track, "Ready, Set..."
"Wait, aren't you going to turn on the lights?" Todd asked.
"What and let the world know we're here? Like I said your training is top secret. I'm going to cleanup with my bookie when a no-name non-runner wins the marathon."
"Wins? I-"
"Shut up, and run! Now!" Snake ordered.
Todd sighed, and started running.