Devin's got him backed against the lockers so fast I barely register the movement, one second he's across the room untying his cleats, the next he's got Bradley pinned with his forearm across his throat. The metallic clang of Bradley's back hitting the locker echoes through the suddenly silent room.
"Say that shit again," Devin's voice is deadly quiet, nothing like his usual easy-going drawl. "I fucking dare you."
Omar and Wyatt materialize behind Devin like the world's largest, most intimidating backup dancers. Omar's still holding one cleat in his hand, knuckles white around the laces. Wyatt'scracking his knuckles with deliberate slowness, the sound sharp as gunshots in the tense air.
The nervous laughter from before? Gone. Dead silence except for Bradley's ragged breathing and the distant sound of showers running in the next room. Even the guys who were minding their own business have stopped what they're doing, towels frozen halfway to lockers, deodorant cans suspended mid-spray.
Nobody's laughing now.
"Whoa, whoa!" Jamal's voice cuts through the tension like a blade as he shoulders his way between bodies. He gets everyone's attention right away. The quarterback's got that captain authority in full effect, the kind that makes grown men twice his size step back and listen.
"Everyone, calm the fuck down before this turns into bullshit that gets us all benched."
He positions himself squarely between Devin and Bradley, one hand pressed firmly against Devin's chest, the other held up in warning toward anyone thinking about escalating this further.
The muscle in his jaw twitches. Jamal looks pissed as fuck, but he's in captain mode now.
"I'm just saying," Bradley tries, but his voice wavers. "Gays in the showers?—"
"Get the fuck over yourself," Wyatt cuts him off. "Gavin's got eyes for one twinky geek, not your pasty white ass."
Wait. What?
I laugh, which, okay, probably not appropriate right now, but I'm kinda shocked. My teammates… they're... defending me?
Fuck. I lumped them all in with the assholes. That's not right.
"This is bullshit," Bradley spits. "Fairies on football teams?—"
Devin's fist hits the wall beside Bradley's head. The crack echoes through the locker room.
"Enough!” Jamal physically hauls Devin back. Then turns on Bradley with the look that makes freshmen piss themselves. "You want me calling Coach? The Dean of Athletics? Explain how you're creating a hostile environment with conduct unbecoming?"
Bradley goes pale.
"That's what I thought." Jamal's not done. "You need this team. You need that scholarship. Way more than we need your mediocre ass catching balls."
"Barely catching them," someone mutters. Might be Mark.
Omar leans in close to Bradley. "So here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna sit down, shut the fuck up, and keep your bigoted fucking nonsense out of our locker room. Got it?"
Bradley nods, his throat visibly working up and down.
"Good talk." Omar straightens up, casual as anything. "Anyone wanna hit that new Mexican place after this?"
Just like that, the tension breaks. The weird energy that had everyone wound up just fades away into a nice normal, locker room level. Guys go back to changing, peeling off practice jerseys and shoulder pads like they didn't just collectively threaten someone for me.
The casual chatter picks back up, weekend plans, assignments due Monday, and whether Coach is gonna run suicide drills tomorrow.
It's surreal. Five minutes ago, I thought I might lose my team, and now Wyatt's asking if anyone wants to study for the sports psych exam while Omar debates the merits of carnitas versus barbacoa.
As they filter out, I get shoulder pats, fist bumps, even a hair ruffle from Devin that leaves my already-messy hair sticking up at weird angles. "You good, big guy?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
Devin grins, that trademark smile that gets him out of trouble with coaches and professors alike. "Course, man. Besides, anyone who can make Sebastian Moretti smile like that? You're doing God's work. Little dude is straight up scary."
Les claps me on the shoulder as he passes. "Team's team, Robins. Don't matter who you're taking to dinner."
