I sighed, dropped my head, and jogged out after him.
The field was kind of dull on these days without a crowd watching us. Sometimes there would be a few people in the bleachers – girlfriends of other players mostly. But it was cool to think of what it would be like on our first game. Everyone screaming and cheering for us.
I looked up –
And then my day got so much worse.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
I’d completely forgotten.
I’d told Keaton he could start filming our practice today. Coach had agreed to it, so it didn’t seem like a problem. He’d already filmed a lot of extra stuff. I’d taken him on a tour of the locker room when it was empty. He’d been practicing how to record while we were studying. Or that was what he said. I couldn’t imagine why else me looking at books would be interesting for the documentary.
Apparently, our little argument last night hadn’t stopped him. If it was me, I would have thought twice about coming. I would have imagined I wasn’t welcome anymore. I would have gone and filmed something else to get something for my project.
But, no. There he was. I would recognize Keaton’s mop of messy dark curls anywhere. He was sitting in the bleachers with his camera set up.
And pointing right at me.
I squinted at him and pursed my lips. Then I turned and ran towards the other players. There was no point in going up there and arguing with him when I had training to do.
And even though I was mad…
I really didn’t want him to screw his project up just because of that.
“Alright,” Coach shouted. “Let’s start with a run around the field and then drills. After that, I want to discuss the starting lineup for the game. Got it?”
“Yes, Coach!” we all chorused from around him. He sent us off with a wave of his hand.
The second time past Keaton, I actually managed not to scowl at him. It probably wasn’t going to look great on camera if I clearly had a problem with the cameraman.
And anyway, if I was being honest, I didn’t have a problem with him. I had a problem with myself.
With all the stupid, dumb, idiotic things I had done.
No matter what Keaton said, I was always going to carry guilt over what I had done in high school. All the times I had picked on him, whether small or large. I would always feel bad that I didn’t tell people to leave him alone. I would always feel bad that I was there and didn’t jump in front of him to stop that beating. Even though he recovered from it, it didn’t make me feel better. Even though he said worse things had happened after I left the school, it didn’t make me feel better.
Now I was starting to see that even if I stayed by his side and protected him for the rest of college…
Maybe it wouldn’t make me feel better.
I was failing my classes. I was too dumb for college. And because of that, I was going to lose my football career.
On top of it all, I was having idiotic feelings I shouldn’t have been having. Wanting to be with Keaton all the time. Wanting to touch him. Getting that physical contact between us. Wanting to talk to him and watch movies with him. All things that he didn’t want.
Things I had no right to expect from him even if I thought he wanted them. He would never want them withme. Even if he did want them back, I didn’t understand why I wanted them. Why I wanted to be close to this openly gay guy when I knew I was straight.
And then the absolute fucking cherry on top was the fact he still hated me anyway. He couldn’t wait to get rid of me.
And I couldn’t even think of a reason to blame him.
It was all my own fault.
“Let’s get those drills started,” Coach shouted as we neared the finish line on the third lap. He started calling out assignments and getting us set up on different parts of the field to work on different things.
He wanted me to work on tackling, of all things.
I lined up behind Aiden, opposite one of the giants of our team – Caleb. He was built like a house, tall and wide. Perfect for tackling practice. Most of the time we used huge punching bags that were set up on stands for practice, but today Coach was running more realistic drills. I guess he wanted to see who could perform ahead of the first game.
