Chapter Three
“You wanna explain this?” Isaac’s mother asked, holding up a picture of him and Tim on her tablet.
The same picture that had been plastered all over the internet by some asshole.
“It’s an iPad,” Isaac said. “They’re like smartphones, but bigger.”
His mother raised an eyebrow.
Isaac sighed. “It’s… last night I went out, like I’m definitely allowed to do, and I got talking to this guy, and it was kinda fun, and then he kissed me. And obviously someone was quick enough to take a picture. I dunno, mom. I didn’t do this on purpose.”
Mrs. Hudson sighed, setting the tablet down. “So when you say he kissed you…?”
“I mean it,” Isaac said. “Totally one-sided, I guess that just happens sometimes.”
“He should have asked first,” his mom said. Isaac smiled a tiny smile at her riding in to his rescue.
Even if she was a little mad at him now, Isaac never doubted that she was there for him. It was why she was his manager. The one person he was sure he could trust.
“I don’t think he was in on it or anything, for the record. I think he was just… lonely. And I am pretty cute.”
His mother snorted. “I’m gonna have to get the doorways widened to fit your head through them one of these days.”
Isaac grinned. He got his confidence from her, so if she didn’t like it, she only had herself to blame. And they both knew it.
“Okay, okay,” she said, sitting down on the couch opposite him.
It was nice to get to come home when his manager summoned him for a meeting. He knew other people who had to travel into inner-city offices just to get yelled at for living a normal life.
“What do you want to do about this, PR-wise? You’ve definitely got a… well-documented history with women, so…”
Isaac swallowed. Despite knowing he had his mom’s support, he was a little worried about the plan he was about to propose. If she didn’t like it…
Well, there was only one way to find out.
“So I’m thinking I wanna roll with it,” Isaac said.
His mom raised an eyebrow again.
“Hear me out, okay? Because the thing is… yeah, some people are being dicks about this, but I have so many messages from kids—teenagers and stuff—telling me how good it is to see someone like them in tennis. Kids who play and were afraid that not being straight would get in their way. I don’t wanna break their hearts.”
“So your solution is to lie to them?” his mom asked.
Isaac shrugged. It was possible he hadn’t entirely thought this through.
“I figure no one ever has to know. I was thinking actually… there’s a charity tournament in a couple of weeks, and it’s to support… you know, kids who aren’t straight. It’s called Love, All. And there’s nothing stopping me from entering…”
“Except your shoulder,” his mom reminded.
Isaac’s shoulder twinged as though it’d heard her.
“I’m most of the way recovered,” he said, genuinely believing that. The occasional twinge was nothing. He’d known going into his career that he’d come out of it with an injury or two, the kind that hurt in the winter.
He wasn’t ready to give up yet, though, and if he wanted to be fit and ready to go in time for competition season… this was a good option.
Besides, it’d help all those kids who’d reached out to him.
It feltgood, for once in his life, to be someone people could look up to. He wanted to hold onto that feeling with both hands.
