“Total klutz,” I said. “He’s always dropping stuff and stuttering when he has to read out loud. He’s nice, though.”
Maddox made a noncommittal grunt of assent to that, and I didn’t expect there to be anything else to say, until Isaak seemed to spot us and started heading over.
“Uh, hi!” He greeted us as he walked up. “Aspen,” he said, giving me the best kind of wave he could with his arms full.
“Isaak,” I retorted, trying not to sound confused as to why he’d be walking up to me in the campus gym. He was nice and everything, and I appreciated his obvious passion for queer history and activism, but I couldn’t remember ever having a conversation with him that hadn’t revolved around the curriculum.
He cleared his throat, shifting his gaze over. “And you’re Maddox Holmes, right?”
“Yeah, so?” He answered, before taking another swig of protein. He was nicer than I ever thought a jock could be, but he could sound harsh and blunt at times.
“And this is Cyprian Knight,” I piped up quickly, gesturing over to him, mostly just because the silence would be incredibly awkward if I didn’t. He raised his hand in a friendly greeting.
“Um, hi,” Isaak said, giving a quick smile to Cyprian before turning back to Maddox. “Uh, so actually I’ve been meaning to talk to you for some time now.”
“Me?” Maddox asked incredulously.
“Y-yes. See, I’m, um, I’m writing a paper on toxic masculinity in college sports culture a-and the effect on queer athletes choosing to stay in the closet, so…”
“Seriously?” Maddox asked, sounding surprised and instantly embarrassed.
Isaak cleared his throat, glancing down at the ground so fast his light bangs shifted and flopped over his forehead. He looked supremely miserable, and I couldn’t help but feel a little bad.
“Well, I-I’ve seen the video from last year,” he started.
At Maddox’s harassed expression, I felt a hysterical laugh building up in my throat and tried desperately to keep it from bubbling out. When a single little sob escaped, Maddox turned to glare at me.
“Sorry,” I said quickly, trying to cover it all with a coughing fit. When I snuck a peek over at Cyprian, he was clearly trying to hold it in, too.
We’d both been present in the arena the night Maddox had reached his limit on homophobia from the assholes on the swim team, when he’d very loudly announced that he had a boyfriend, followed by the fact that he and his boyfriend enjoyed fucking, before unceremoniously quitting. We’d been shocked by his announcement (not by the news itself, only that he’d chosen such a public setting for it), although no one had been more shocked than Maddox’s own parents, who he hadn’t even been aware had shown up there to support him at the swim meet.
Unfortunately some people in the stands had happened to be filming that night, and Maddox’s meltdown had gone just a little bit viral. The attention had been blessedly brief and faded away quickly, but I was sure he wasn’t too keen on hashing it out and reliving it.
“A-and I know about Dean Torres launching that investigation into the swim team, and how Coach Larson was fired. I’ve done interviews with some of the other guys that were on the team with you,” Isaak continued, talking quickly, like he just wanted to get it all out so he didn’t lose his courage. “And so all I really wanted to talk to you about is your experience with the whole thing and just, um, y-you know, how it all made you feel.”
“Feel!?” Maddox repeated the word like it was a vulgar slur, recoiling like he’d been slapped. And for him, the concept offeelingspretty much was a dirty word.
Cyprian gave him an encouraging pat on the arm, a compassionate expression clear on his face, while I just kept trying not to double over, laughing hysterically.
“Y-you know what? Actually, I can come back,” Isaak said quickly, swallowing hard as he shifted his books in his arms and prepared to turn tail and retreat. “You’re obviously busy, and-”
“No,” Maddox cut him off, groaning lightly as he pressed his palms to his closed eyes. “It’s fine. Just… Just ask what you want to ask, alright?”
“Oh, gosh,” Isaak said, after breathing an obvious sigh of relief. “Thanks a lot. Do you mind if I record you? Just to make it easier for quotes and stuff.”
“You’re not putting this online or anything, right?”
“No!” Isaak promised, shaking his head frantically. He sort of reminded me of Ren, because they both had the socially awkward yet cute nerd thing going on, although Ren was like a cheerfully devoted puppy always under your feet that you had tobe careful not to trip on. Isaak was more like a squirrel, jumpy and jittery. “I’ll delete it when I’m done writing my paper, I swear.”
I had a shift at the café coming up that I wanted to go get ready for, but I’d have felt like a giant asshole abandoning Maddox during his very difficult time, so I hung around and, along with Cyprian, provided some color commentary during the parts I’d been around for. By the time he’d begrudgingly recounted the whole tale, ending with the dramatic climax at the swim meet, Isaak’s books and papers were on the floor and he was frantically scribbling notes into a notepad, despite the fact that everything was being recorded.
Isaak thanked him profusely for his cooperation, heaping gratitude onto him, which only served to embarrass Maddox more, but Isaak didn’t seem to notice.
“It seriously means a lot,” he said, kneeling down to gather up his stuff. “I hope this paper turns out really great.” He went on to explain a bit about how he was going for his master’s, but would need a Ph.D for the tenure-track professor position he dreamed of. I knew from some of his lectures and broad knowledge on queer history and culture that it was incredibly important to him. I couldn’t help but admire that a little, even if the degree I wanted was admittedly a bit cold and soulless, business analytics with a minor in marketing. I didn’t dream of inspiring people or changing the world. I just wanted enough money to feel secure for once in my life. And as long as I had that, then I could take care of the people close to me, anyway.
Caelyx was also getting a business degree, mostly because he knew that was what would satisfy his dad, so we actually had a good handful of classes together. Thinking of him reminded me I’d have to swing by his house on the way to work, because we were closing together again.
“So then I guess that means you’ll be at that party on Saturday?” Cyprian guessed, a naturally friendly smile gracing his mouth.
