For a second, it looks like Bradley might argue. Then he seems to register the expressions on his teammates' faces, the disgust, the anger, the complete lack of support, and something in him deflates.
"This is bullshit," he mutters, but he's already walking away. "Fucking bullshit."
The stadium is dead silent as he disappears into the complex.
Coach Daniels takes the mic from Omar and turns to address the crowd. "I apologize for what you just witnessed. That individual's views do not represent this team, this athletic program, or this university."
He pauses, jaw tight. "Pacific Coast University believes that everyone deserves a fair shot. Everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and respect. If that's too difficult a concept for some people, then they don't belong here."
A beat of silence.
Then someone starts clapping. Someone else joins in. And suddenly the whole stadium is on its feet, applause thundering through the bleachers.
My eyes are burning. I blink hard, but the tears come anyway.
JP's hand finds mine. Squeezes. Max grabs my other hand. Leo reaches past Max to put his hand on my shoulder.
We stand there, four queer kids in a sea of teal and silver, watching a football team publicly declare that people like us matter.
"Well," JP says quietly, his voice a little rough. "That was unexpected."
"Yeah." I can barely get the word out. "It was."
The rest of the exhibition goes by in a blur. I'm still processing what happened, still feeling that applause echo in my chest. The crowd is lighter now, happier, like Bradley caught acting like an asshole somehow purged the toxic from the air.
When the final whistle blows, I watch Gavin scan the bleachers. His face breaks into a sunshiney grin when he spots me, and he's jogging over before I can even process that he's moving.
"Doc!" He doesn't slow down, just scoops me into a hug that lifts me clean off the ground. He smells like sweat and grass and distinctly Gavin. "You came!"
"I said I would."
"Yeah, but—" He sets me down, hands lingering on my waist. "You're wearing my jersey."
"Don't make it weird." He’s smiling at me from ear to ear.
"Too late. It's weird. It's amazing." He's looking at me like I'm the best thing he's ever seen, which is ridiculous because all I did was put on a shirt.
"You were incredible out there," I tell him, and his whole face lights up even more somehow.
"Yeah?" He ducks his head, almost shy. "The skills stuff went okay. Fumbled one catch, but Coach said it was—" He stops, shakes his head. "Never mind. Not important. What's important is you're here, and you're wearing my jersey, and I'm so fucking happy right now."
"You're ridiculous."
"Probably." He spots my friends and waves. "Hey, guys! Thanks for coming!"
JP offers a small wave back. Max throws himself at Gavin in an enthusiastic hug, arms barely making it around the shoulder pads.
"That was amazing,” Max declares into Gavin's chest. "You just… and then he… and the coach…" He pulls back, wrinkling his nose. "Oh my god, you smell terrible. Like, aggressively terrible. Do football players not believe in deodorant?"
Gavin laughs, bright and loud. "Occupational hazard. I'll shower soon, promise."
"Please do. For the good of humanity."
Leo manages a stiff nod when Gavin offers him a fist bump. JP returns the fist bump like a robot, like he studied a YouTube tutorial on fist-bumping etiquette.
"Seriously, though." Gavin's voice softens. "Thanks for being here. All of you. It means a lot."
"We're trying to experience college," JP explains. "Sports are apparently part of that."
