5
Sal and Curtis weren’t able to meet up for two days after the game. Sal had called him as soon as the final siren had buzzed, leaving a near-incomprehensible voicemail babbling about how amazed they were, and Curtis had called back a half-hour later.
“You saw it?” he asked, his breathing still heavy from the game. “You’re not mad?”
“Mad?” Sal was so dazed they could hardly think, but mad wasn’t even in the top fifty emotions they were feeling. “I just can’t believe you did that. You don’t know what that meant to me.”
“It means a lot to me, too,” Curtis said quietly.
Sal had almost choked on their own breath. “Oh, Curt… you understand now, don’t you?”
He chuckled. “Took me a while, but… yeah. I think I do. I hopeyouthink I do. And even if you don’t want a bar of me anymore, I’m still happy I did it, but I really do want us to get together, Sal.”
Silence draped itself between them, a tight silence that seemed louder than anything Sal had said so far.
“It’s hard,” they admitted. “Because I don’t think my issues were ever about you not being willing to learn. At least, not all the way. I was scared. I didn’t know if I could handle being with someone so…”
“Sexy?”
They laughed. “Kind of. But I’ve decided I can’t resist anymore.”
“Does that mean…? Can we stop pretending like we’re just mates in public? Can I tell people we’re together?” Curtis’ voice was light, but Sal could hear the fear vibrating around his words.
“I think,” Sal said, careful with every syllable. “I’ve never wanted to be with anyone the way I want to be with you. And after you showed everyone the non-binary armband, I’d be the world’s biggest twat not to let you shout about us from the rooftops, because I wanna do the exact same thing.”
“Sal,” Curtis had choked out. “I’m so fuckin’ happy to hear that.”
“So, why are you crying?” Sal shot back, as though they weren’t also crying.
Curtis had wanted to fly straight home, but he had sponsor stuff in Perth, and Sal didn’t want him to get into any more trouble.
The day after the game, Patrick Normal’s wife, Cheryl, had texted Beth to say Curtis had copped a fine for wearing the boots and armband. He hadn’t gotten them approved by the club in time, and violated uniform guidelines by going out in them anyway. He’d be losing fifty percent of his match pay, and while Sal had no idea how much that was, they guessed it was a lot more than a month of teaching assistant-ing. Not that Cheryl seemed to think the fine was all that serious. Like Beth, she seemed to find the whole situation charming.
Word on the street is, he’s infatuated with a certain non-binary god-queen, Cheryl wrote.Tell Sal I said congrats, and I’m not surprised. They’re a gem, and Curtis is a sweet pea. Match made in heaven.
“Do you really think he got a fine on purpose for me?” Sal had asked Beth on the phone. “Maybe it was a mistake?”
“Like, he mistakenly acted like an absolute king for you?” Beth had crowed. “Not fucking likely, Sal. And don’t think I don’t see you avoiding acknowledging that Cherylalsothinks you and Curtis are a great match.”
But Sal couldn’t engage in that kind of thinking. “Do you think Byron’s pissed?”
“Who cares? Byron needs a little more excitement in his life.”
Byron, it turned out,waspissed. Beth called the next day to say he’d been the one to tell Curtis to take the boots off, accusing him of showboating and trying to blackmail his sister into liking him.
“Curtis told him the only way he was taking the boots off was if Byron tackled him, and he was too over the hill to keep up,” Beth gloated. “What a hero. I don’t wanna put pressure on you, Sal, but I hope you and Curtis get married and live happily ever after.”
Sal hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry. In the end, they settled for a bit of both.
“Is Byron losing his shit? Should I call him and tell him to back the fuck up?”
“No, he’ll get over it,” Beth said cheerfully. “He’s already changed his tune. Said it’s stupid of the club to fine players because it just pulls more attention to the uniform issues, or whatever. I think he ended up respecting Curtis more for doing it. You know how straight men are.”
Sal didn’t. That was part of the problem. But they had to admit that knowing Curtis had broken the rules for them made them want to book their own flight to Perth, show up outside Curtis’ hotel—preferably in the pouring rain—and tell him he might just be the one. They’d settled for a text.
Thank you so much for what you did.Want me to help you pay the fine?
Curtis’ reply came a minute later.
