“Ugh, I hate that guy,” Sam whispers.
“Me too. Let me put this little gal to bed and I’ll make you hate him even more.”
When I makeit back to the lounge, the nacho plate is empty, Sam has found and cracked open two beers, and Lucas is curled up on the sofa, snuggled beneath a blanket, lost deeper to sleep than the baby upstairs.
“Poor little guy was tuckered out. Beer?” Sam holds the bottle out to me then nods to the empty space beside him. “You feeling better?” he asks when I take the beer, and drop onto the cushions.
“When was I … worse?”
“You looked like you were going to puke when me and the Sandman came in.”
“Yeah well. Confirming friendship then coming out is a lot for an introvert like me.”
For some reason, that provokes a hefty snort. “Dude, I dunno if you know this about me, but I’m kind of popular. That means I know, and have to deal with a shit ton of people. And in my experience I can assure you that you, my friend, are awkward as fuck, definitely an over thinker and anxious. But an introvert, no way.”
I take a sip of my beer. “You’re just full of compliments tonight, aren’t you?”
“I live to give.” Mirroring me, he takes a sip from his, then another, and I think that might be it. But no. “You like people. Maybe even need them, and leading the team energizes you. You’re an extrovert. Just a shy one.”
“Aren’t those things mutually exclusive?”
“Nope. A true introvert is mostly okay being alone. You seem to hate it, and do it more out of anxiety than anything.” I narrow my eyes.
“When did you become such a people expert?”
“Told ya. I’m a big deal. I also take psychology. Analyzing people is my jam.”
“Okay then, Mr. Expert.” Nudging his arm, I sit up a little straighter. “Analyze this. A certain spoiled brat team mate?—”
“Trent.”
“Trent.” I nod. “Knows I’m gay, and seems to be set on outing me. Do I tell Coach? Handle it with my fists? Or beat him to the punch and tell the team?”
Sam downs the rest of his beer in one go, then leans to place it on the coffee table. “Cubs, you won’t even wear your glasses in front of the team. Are you comfortable with coming out?”
“If you’d have asked me that a month ago, I would have said no, but something’s changed.”
“Would that something be a certain Bear with a surname that rhymes with bum?”
“Maybe. I’ve been a bit of a slut this summer and it’s beensogreat. I thought that was what I wanted, you know? Casual hook-ups to figure out what I liked. But now I’m not so sure. Hypothetically, if I did meet someone I was really into, if his name perhaps did rhyme with bum, I’d want them to watch me play, and come out to O’Reilly’s after a win. I’d want to hold their hand and kiss them without looking over my shoulder. I don’t want to hide who I am.”
Unexpectedly, I’m pulled into a full man-hug, back slaps, noogies and spilled beer included. “Then I say it’s time to cue Diana Ross, Cubby, ’cause baby, you’re coming out.”
A smile I couldn’t stop if I tried, spreads as I picture everything I just expressed happening with James. And maybe a little bit because of fucking over Trent.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”
“May as well gothe whole hog.”
An off-key chorus ofPink Pony Club, the team’s latest pump-up song, bounces off the walls as I linger outside the locker room. On a normal day I would have been the first inside, already having showered and changed before anyone else arrived. Today’s tardiness is deliberate … and a tiny bit the consequence of freaking the fuck out in the parking lot, and once as I stormed Coach’s office to alert him of my plans.
“Do you want me to act surprised?” he asked when I told him. “Or shocked? Because as you may recall, my daughter is in a poly-amorous relationship with two bisexual men. Nothing shocks me anymore.”
It was a slight come down, but hopefully the team will give me a bit of the fuss I’m lowkey craving.
If the gay thing doesn’t do it, I’m also wearing my glasses, my hair is in its natural floppy form, and Cherry, who was way too excited by this, forced me into wearing mySweattour t-shirt too.Give them a little visual aid,she whispered.
Like Chappel is doing for the boys, I take a fortifying breath, give myself one last pep talk, and take a step towards my destiny.
