“Yeah, I only got off because she had boy band posters on her wall, I stared at them the entire time.”
“Boy bands?” she asks. “So which was your type, the cute boy next door, or the bad boy with the tattoos?”
“I don’t know, I don’t let myself look at guys.”
“Ever? Not even when you’re alone?” she asks.
I shake my head. “It’s too risky, I’m scared it would be like a butterfly effect.”
“Like opening gay floodgates?”
“Exactly,” I chuckle, “giant rainbow floodgates!”
“I get that,” she says. “So now your dad is in prison, you still don’t think it would be safe?”
“No, he made sure the club had a rule in place that no gay people were allowed in or anywhere near it, and with my brother being a member, it’s too risky.”
“Are you sure your brother isn’t just an asshole too? What did you say his name was, Diablo? As in literally the devil?”
“Yeah, Diablo is… complicated. On the one hand, he’s the best brother I could ask for. He’s protected me from Frank all my life, protected my mom too, and he’d be there in a heartbeat if I needed him, always having my back. He’s not a bad guy, a bit too serious, and angry maybe, but honestly I can understand that after dealing with Frank since he was a kid.
“He’s different with the guys at the MC, they’re also like his brothers, and he’s more relaxed around them, especially now they’re not into all the illegal shit. But the gay thing… I think there’s too much history there, with my dad, the club, their rules…”
“Hmm, so not a complete asshole. But I’m still going to hate him a little bit for not making you feel like he’d accept you no matter who you love.”
“That’s fine, you can hate him,” I chuckle. “You should come to the clubhouse with me sometime though, maybe it will help, them seeing me with a hot girl.”
She brings her hands to her chest. “Donovan, are you asking me to be your fake girlfriend, because if so, you should know that I will absolutely be fucking other guys.”
“No,” I laugh, “you’ll be my friend, but let’s just say I’ll keep my answers vague when people ask me about you.” I look up at her with puppy dog eyes. “Please?”
“Okay, the puppy dog eyes are officially banned from our friendship; they hold too much power. But fine, I’ll come and hang out with your asshole brother and his motorcycle club friends.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I pull her into a hug, and she laughs as I tickle her.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so free. A few hours ago, I was alone, being eaten alive from the inside by my secret, but now I have a friend who I feel like I’ve known for ever. And she’s cool, and open, and can help me navigate this whole thing. For the first time there’s a sliver of light in my future, and some hope that it won’t all be completely bleak.
Prologue 2
Stephen
I’vekepttonightprettylow-key; people wanted me to make a big deal of it, have the whole team over and make it a party. But I’m too nervous for that. I know not everything rests on tonight, but it’s still a big fucking deal. And if it doesn’t happen now, I’ll have even more up-and-coming talent to contend with next year.
No, this needs to happen tonight. The NFL Draft.
This is the moment I’ve been building towards my entire life, ever since the first time I held a football. I can still remember the feel of the leather. I say held, it didn’t exactly fit in my hands, way too massive to hold as a kid, but once I started playing, I knew that was it, this is what I want to do with my life.
We’re at my parents’ house, the three of us and Coach Jenkins. They’ve all been there for me every step of the way. Coach even came with me to the Scouting Combine; even though my dad went through it all himself when he was pro, it’s hard for him not to get emotionally involved. Coach can stay grounded, realistic, and thanks to him, I came out on top for my position.
That’s when the hype started to build. The results of the combine are used to make player predictions, and for teams to start picking their next year’s players. Suddenly everyone was talking about me, Stephen Choi, Wide Receiver. I’d gotten some attention as a college football player, but this was next level.
Technically I shouldn’t have even been in the combine, but I’d been invited a year early after a team showed some interest in me. The Tynerston Warriors. When I say they’re the dream, I’m not exaggerating. Back-to-back two-time Super Bowl champions, all eyes are on them right now, and they want me.
Fuck, it still doesn’t feel real—it won’t until it’s been announced. Yes, we’ve been negotiating for months, discussing terms and contracts, how this will work with school, but it won’t be official, won’t be real, until they call. Tonight, during the live stream of the draft.
I was invited to be there in person, a lot of players choose to, waiting backstage with their families, before striding out onto the stage with the jersey for their new team. A part of me wishes I could have done that, but with how I’m feeling right now, it would have been a terrible idea.
My heart is in my throat, I feel like I could throw up, and I keep forgetting to breathe. My parents and Coach Jenkins are leaving me be, knowing how I prefer to be alone when I get this anxious. I know other people are trying to help, but when you can’t breathe, and someone is telling you to ‘just breathe’ it stresses me even more.
