Friday finally arrives, and I feel nauseated the entire day. Time is funny. When you look forward to something, time moves at a snail’s pace. When you dread something, it flashes by, and suddenly you’re right on the threshold of whatever it is you’re dreading. Which is how I find myself at six in the evening, an hour before the first playoff game of the season starts, leaning against the cold tile of the men’s locker room and trying not to vomit.
Kellan isn’t here. He was supposed to arrive from Mexico this morning, but he called and said his flight got delayed. A worst-case scenario coming true. I didn’t believe him, so I checked online. He was, in fact, telling the truth. Still, his flight landed mid-afternoon and he promised he’d come straight to my apartment to get his uniform. I waited for as long as I could—I even skipped my classes—yet he never showed. When I tried calling his cell, it went straight to voicemail. Either his phone was dead—a highly unlikely scenario—or he’d turned it off.
Coach Wheeler is supposed to meet with us once all the players arrive. About half have showed up so far, but Max isn’t one of them. I’m not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. What we shared over the weekend—I’ve never shared anything like that with anyone. His emotions were plain as day—the trust, the happiness. He has no idea I’ve betrayed him in the worst possible way.
The plan had never been to fall in love with one of Kellan’s teammates.
I’ve approached this scenario from every possible angle. There’s nothing I can do at this point. My guess is that when Kellan returns, he’ll have no choice but to reveal the ploy, because Max will be under the impression that he’s with the real Kellan, not his twin brother.
It will break Max. Humiliate him. I already know it. But I’m too much of a coward to come clean.
The guys are busy changing in the locker room, joking amongst themselves. Me, standing in a room of half-naked men. And I don’t feel a thing. There’s only one guy I’m interested in, and he’s not here.
The last few days of practice have sucked on the physical side. No surprise there. Kellan’s teammates have begun treating me with borderline hostility in some cases. I get it. I suck. They want to win, want to get into the playoffs, want to win the National Championship title. They can’t do that when one of their best players suddenly decides he can’t play for shit.
Outwardly, Max treats me differently. Brief touches when he thinks no one is watching. Soft smiles, a few teasing remarks that make my blood heat, make me long for a bed where he and I can lose ourselves in one another’s bodies. It hurts worse now when he calls me Kellan. Sometimes I can’t stop my flinch.
I check the time. Fifteen minutes before warm-up. I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready. The last thing I want to do is blow Sebastian’s and Kellan’s chance at a national title. I don’t want to disappoint Max either.
On the other side of the locker room, Sebastian begins slipping on his shin guards. I approach before I lose my nerve.
“Hey, can I talk to you?”
Sebastian pauses in pulling on his socks, giving me a curious look. He would be suspicious. I never talk to Sebastian under normal circumstances. The fact that I’m about to ask him for life advice is unprecedented, but I have no one else to ask.
He jerks his chin to the exit doors and leads me out into the hall. We go to Coach Wheeler’s office, which is empty. He sits on the desk, a headband keeping the hair from his eyes, hands clasped loosely between his legs. I pace in front of him.
“I don’t know what to do.” The first words out of my mouth.
“Kellan will be here, Noah.” But he doesn’t sound too sure of that.
“I’m not talking about the game. I’m talking about Max.”
“Ah.” Understanding lights his gaze. He swings off the desk and comes to stand in front of me, head tilted. He studies me. For what, I don’t know.
He says, voice grave, “You care about him.” Hazel eyes regard me with no small amount of compassion. Why does the sight of my older brother looking at me with such understanding make my legs want to fold, my eyes to fill with tears? Maybe because he’s never looked at me this way before? Have I wanted him to? I think I have. Sebastian and I have never connected. He has soccer, I have coding. He has friends, I have myself. He loves to flaunt his talent. I like to hide.
No point in denying it any longer. “I do.” Although it’s gone beyond caring at this point, if I’m being honest.
“And you don’t want to hurt him.”
“Right.”
“But you will, once he learns about what you and Kellan have done.”
The word sticks in my throat. I force it out. “Yes.”
He dips his chin, rubs at a spot on his jaw, thinking. Since entering a relationship, Sebastian has mellowed out a lot. He’s a better listener. It’s pretty bizarre, if I do say so. “The way I see it, you have two options. You can tell him directly and accept the consequences. Or, you don’t tell him, but he’ll probably find out anyway when Kellan comes back and he denies ever sleeping with him.”
I startle. “How did you—”
“It’s all in the glow,” he says, and grins at my shock. I didn’t realize I looked any different after sleeping with Max. But I feel different. I feel… changed.
“If I were you, I would tell him as soon as possible. If he finds out secondhand, I don’t think he’ll be as forgiving. At least if you come forward, there’s a chance he might hear you out.”
Neither option is ideal. If I could go back in time and change things, would I? If I hadn’t agreed to Kellan’s stupid plan, I’d have never met Max. Is the hurt that’s bound to come worth being with him, if only for this short time?
I think it is.
