“This’ll be fun. I’ll get to learn more about you.”
Cliff tried to snatch the paper away. Brennan stood up, turned to the article, and began reading.
“When students returned to campus after Thanksgiving break on Monday, they all had the same question on their lips: who is Cliff Warner?” Brennan walked around the loft smiling. He had Browerton’s mystery man all to himself.
He skimmed the article, pausing to read aloud his favorite parts. “Said Warner of his now-famous Hail Mary pass: ‘We needed one more basket. I wanted us to win.’” Brennan paused for effort and gazed at Cliff playfully. “That...now that was poetry.”
Brennan became more impressed by Cliff’s skills as he read. He was happy Cliff was being recognized, even though Cliff hated the attention. Even now, Browerton’s freshman hoops all-star himself had a queasy feeling on his face as he watched Brennan read.
“Oh! Now we come to Clifford’s social life.”
“The reporter asked this out of nowhere. It was dumb.” Cliff jumped out of his chair to steal the paper away. Brennan had learned a thing or two about playing defense; this time, he weaved out of Cliff’s clutches. He jumped onto his bed.
“And for you ladies wondering…” Brennan raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Cliff is single and ready to mingle.” His zippy energy escaped his body in one breath. “Quote ‘I am definitely looking for a girlfriend, a nice girl I can bring home to meet the folks.’ End quote.”
Reading that made Brennan want to throw up. It didn’t sound like a real person; it sounded like someone desperately trying to be a real person and failing miserably.
“What the fuck was that?”
“The reporter asked if I was dating someone. I thought we were just going to talk about the game and basketball.”
Brennan hopped off the bed, his excitement hardening into anger. “And this is the answer you gave her?”
Cliff laughed it off, his chuckle like tiny stabs. “What was I supposed to say?”
“No comment.” Brennan’s lungs worked overtime to take in air. “Or that you’re not looking to date. What is this shit with using the student newspaper as your personal Find-a-Beard matchmaking service?”
“I panicked, okay?”
“Afraid someone was going to find out your deep, dark secret?” The night was making sense to him. Cliff just wanted to draw. None of the gay shit. It was time to shove that into a box.
“It’s a stupid quote. You know it’s not true.”
“But you still said it.” Brennan knew it wasn’t true, yet he knew that his anger was justified, too. Thishurt. He thought of all the lies Paul told about his dating life to friends and faculty and students who asked. Brennan knew the drill, but they still dinged him. And now history was repeating itself. Why was he the boyfriend guys needed to cover up?
“Is this how it’s going to be?”
Cliff nodded, his eyes heavy. “I’m sorry.”
He made it excruciating for Brennan to be mad at him. Brennan walked to the window, watched the snow fall in fat flakes. “What if you had told the truth?”
“I can’t do that. You know that.”
“Why not? Do you really think your family is going to disown you? I may not be a Warner, but I spent plenty of time with them. They won’t.” Brennan thought Cliff was making progress. They held hands and were all cuddly at the bar trivia night. He gave Cliff awell?head nod. “I didn’t ask a rhetorical question.”
“Brennan, I’m sorry.”
He got right up in Cliff’s face. “I know how hard it is to come out. I may not have been an athlete, but that didn’t mean it was easy for me. I know that you need time, but then you give this interview, and it’s like youneverwant to leave the closet. You want to play this game your whole life. I can’t stand beside you as you do that.”
“Nobody asked you to,” Cliff said, each word a punch in the gut.
Brennan held onto the column for balance. What was he thinking letting himself fall for someone? Why didn’t he learn his lesson with Paul?
Because you’re damaged goods, Paul sneered in his head.Maybe if you weren’t trash, then Cliff would want you as a real boyfriend. You were the sad puppy at the Warner dinner table.
Cliff ripped his body open, exposing every nerve for maximum pain.
“Is this really the life you want to lead?”
