The silence echoed as the words he’d let loose hung heavy in the air around him. Only the sharp chill of the mountain air kept Elliot steady.
“So you hate me because, what? Because I’m living my life how I want to? Because you think I don’t know what it’s like having to keep up an image?” Jennings asked. “Or because you have a problem with me being ‘out and proud.’”
Elliot kicked the ground. “Forget it, Jennings. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s the pressure of this extended selection period that’s getting to me, and obviously, you don’t have to worry about that.” He stomped forward down the trail.
“I’m not going to forget it,” Jennings said, standing stock-still. “I fucking dismissed it when my sister called you homophobic, so tell me right now, what is your problem with me being out?”
“My problem,” he replied, voice almost inaudible over the sounds of the forest, “is that I don’t get to be like you.”
He regretted the words the second they flew out of his mouth. There was no chance Jennings wouldn’t understand. He’d handed his greatest weakness to his biggest enemy. If Jennings said anything, even unintentionally, everything he’d worked for could implode. He wouldn’t be Elliot Owens, marathonrunner anymore—he’d be Elliot Owens,gay marathon runner. Reducing himself to that would be a slap in the face to his father’s legacy and sacrifice. Not only that, but it felt like a slippery slope to Jackson noticing Elliot’s inconvenient reactions in his presence. The way his eyes always lingered a little too long. There was nothing Elliot could imagine that would be worse than Jackson Jennings realising just how much of his brain power was dedicated to thinking about him on a daily basis.
Fuck, he hoped the terror gripping his heart wasn’t showing on his face. Jennings didn't say anything. He just kept walking. For a moment, Elliot could pretend he hadn't heard him.
The light was rapidly fading behind the peaks, casting long blue shadows over the snow-specked ground. Jennings stopped in a small clearing and looked up at the darkening sky, mercifully ignoring Elliot’s slip. “We need to stop and set up camp soon, or we’ll lose too much light.”
“Is the campsite nearby?”
Jennings looked at him like he had four heads. “Owens, the campsite is wherever we set up camp.”
“But what about showers and washing up and…”
“None of that until we head back to the hotel. Did you listen at all to Anders’s spiel?”
“Must have missed that bit,” Elliot replied.
“S’fine. I’ll start setting up. You can regale me with tales of how much harder your life is than mine.”
Jennings pulled the tent out of his pack and started putting the poles together. A cold gust swept down the slope, making the fabric flap and Elliot shiver despite the exertion. He tucked his pack closer to his chest and tried not to wince at the chill that seemed to settle in his bones.
“That isn’t what I meant,” Elliot said. Now he felt like shit. He’d always assumed it was impossible to kill JacksonJennings’s good mood, but apparently, he’d succeeded where others had failed.
“I mean—” Fuck, Elliot had never been one for heart-to-hearts. “—I mean, I know your life can’t actually be all sunshine and rainbows, even if it does kind of look that way.”
Jennings huffed, but a smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth. Good, that was better than the aggressive mangling of tent poles.
Elliot took a breath. “I… My family is…complicated,” Elliot explained. He waited for a reaction. Jennings had stopped fiddling with the tent beside him and was giving him his full attention.
Having the weight of those warm eyes on him spurred Elliot on. He continued. “My dad is my agent, that’s not a secret.” He watched Jackson nod, and it emboldened him. “He sacrificed a lot to get me where I am, so I—" Elliot stopped. The words wouldn’t come out.
“Owens, you don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s… He expects results, expects me to be worth all the stress I’ve caused, and I don’t know if I can deliver them. And he’s worried, worried about how much harder it could be for my career if it got out…that I’m…”
“Gay?” Jennings offered.
Elliot shook his head. “Bisexual,” he whispered. It was the first time he’d said it out loud. He was sure the moment should have felt heavier. But Jennings didn’t force anything. He nodded, offered a half smile, and returned to his tent, and Elliot stared at his own half-opened pack.
“Is that why you’ve been so stressed about selection?” he asked eventually.
Elliot nodded. “It’s definitely part of it. I still don’t qualify for lottery funding, so locking that in…”
“I totally get that,” Jennings replied. Then he beamed at him. “See? We’re sharing. We’ll be friends before you know it, mark my words.”
“Oh fuck off, Jennings,” he replied, but there was no heat in his response. Because he was probably right, but Elliot wasn’t sure he could handle friendship with Jackson Jennings. His heart was racing faster and faster the longer that grin was trained on him. He wanted it fixed on him every minute of every day, and that was fucking dangerous territory.
“Help me get these tents up?”
Elliot rose from his perch on the mossy log. “Of course, but you’ll have to tell me what to do, I’ve never camped before.”
