Cliff blushed at the unsexy, harsh-light-of-day part of sex: cleanup. He rummaged through his drawer for a T-shirt for him to wear. It was from their high school.
Brennan looked amazing in his old T-shirt. It had shrunk over the years and fit snugly around his biceps.
“I like waking up next to you.” Brennan smoothed over a piece of Cliff’s hair.
“Me, too.” Cliff glided his fingers over his mustache.
They had one more kiss, one that threatened to send them right back into his bed. But it was time to return to reality. Cliff peeked his head into the hall and made sure it was empty so Brennan could leave, with himself following behind a few minutes later. His heart sank during his solitary, lonely walk out of the dorm.
* * *
The next day,fresh off a victory against Columbus University the night before, Cliff met Mr. Wyndham at St. John’s ready to impart wisdom to the youths.
The church sat on a quaint residential corner in town. Ivy covered the side wall of the building, its brown brick contrasting nicely with the fiery maple tree in front, whose last leaves clung to the branches.
Cliff had spent his lunch yesterday writing out his speech. He was proud of it, despite not having a choice in the matter. He centered it around perseverance and the value of hard work. He wasn’t born a good basketball player or a good student. His parents instilled in him the idea that he could do anything if he worked hard enough and put in the man hours. He used examples from Malcolm Gladwell’s book about how anyone could become an expert in 10,000 hours. He hoped it got through to the kids, because that was all he had. It all boiled down to working hard.
He pulled open the door of the church, the musty smell of the pews giving him a flashback to his church back home. In the back pew, Mr. Wyndham chewed the ear off of the pastor. The kids spent their time in the front rows on their phones and chatting with each other.
“You must be Cliff.” The pastor shook his hand.
Mr. Wyndham clapped him on the back. “Did you find it okay? I know it’s a ways away from campus so this area may be unfamiliar.”
Cliff bit his lip. He knew the area well; they were only a few blocks from Brennan’s loft.
“Thank you for doing this, Cliff,” the pastor said. He had a remarkably thick head of gray hair. “I know it’ll mean a lot to the kids up there. We don’t have a pro sports team around here, so we root for the Whitetails. They look up to you and your teammates.”
“I’m a freshman, only playing for less than a week. I don’t know how much they look up to me.”
“They do. And Mr. Wyndham has told me what an upstanding young man you are. I know, I know.” He held his hands up. “You think they won’t be listening to a word you say up there. And frankly, that’s half-true. Your exact words may not stick, but they’ll remember you.”
Cliff never tried to be a role model; he found the whole thing weird. Who was he to be looked up to? Would they still think he was a role model if they knew the truth about what he liked to do behind closed doors?
“I’m going to go over some regular agenda items with them for a few minutes, then I’ll call you up.”
“Sounds good.” Cliff felt more relaxed. The pastor was a cool guy. Cliff sat down in a back pew next to Mr. Wyndham and read over his notes.
Mr. Wyndham pulled a piece of folded paper from his inner jacket pocket. “I had some ideas for what you could talk about today.”
“I wrote a speech, or notecards rather. I came prepared.” Cliff waved them for Mr. Wyndham to see.
“That’s great, Cliff. Really great. I had some ideas. I wasn’t able to chat with you about them earlier. I don’t want to tell you how to do this, but some suggestions couldn’t hurt.” Mr. Wyndham wore an uncomfortable smile of someone who wasn’t used to having to convince people of things.
Cliff unfolded Mr. Wyndham’s notes, dreading its contents.
“Did you hear about that kids performer who came out as trans non-binary whatever?” Mr. Wyndham rolled his eyes and did the ick shake. “Unfortunately, when you look at actors and singers and the weirdos on social media who are marketing themselves to kids, it’s a sorry bunch who traffic in poor values and seedy lifestyles. These kids deserve better.”
Cliff’s heart sank as he read Mr. Wyndham’s “suggestions.”
It’s important that you live a clean life away from sexual temptation. I know being in college, I’m surrounded by students who have fallen prey to bad sexual habits and immoral lifestyles. I’m sure you’ve heard stories or read things online. But God is watching you. He made you in his image; it is our responsibility to live up to his values. Myself and my fellow athletes live clean lives. That is how we win. If we gave into carnal temptation like pre-marital sex and homosexuality, then we would lose in court and in life.
Cliff blinked twice. He had to be sure that this was real. Apparently, Mr. Wyndham didn’t see what went on at afterparties. Or maybe that was okay to him because it was boys being boys. Mr. Wyndham watched for his reaction. He hid his shame, his disgust, his confusion all behind a blank stare.
“I, uh, didn’t know you wanted this in the speech. I thought it was about working hard.”
“And it is. But I think it’s important to include that last part about temptation. The world is becoming more loosey-goosey, and I can’t even imagine what kinds of stuff are going on at Browerton amongst certain demographics. It may seem old-fashioned, but I believe a solid moral core is paramount to success. I speak from personal experience. I want these kids to see that they don’t have to hop into bed or give up their virtue once they get to college, like the media would have them believe. I know in this day and age that can feel like a losing battle, but we have to let them know there’s another way, and I think you personify that, Cliff. I really do.”
He clapped Cliff on the shoulder.
