“You know that guy?” one of his teammates asks as they pass me.
“Remember that improv class I was telling you about?” Adam says. “He’s in it, too.”
“You sure that’s all it is?” another player taunts. “You know that dude is gay. I mean look at him. I’ll bet he goes back to his dorm room after class and jacks off picturing you naked.”
I slow down as they continue past, waiting to hear Adam put that homophobic fart nozzle in his place.
“I told you. We’re in class together. That’s it. Are we going to the Biscuit? I could really use a beer.”
“First one’s on me,” the guy who asked Adam if he knew me says. “For putting us over the top.”
That’s all I can pick up before they’re out of earshot, and it’s a good thing. I don’t want to hear what else Adam has to say. And I don’t want him to see the hot, angry tears welling up in my eyes as I stand there like a flipping statute and watch them walk away.
I was right. In the history of the most stupid ideas of all time, coming to this stupid hockey game under the stupid, misguided impression that I meant something more to him than an easy lay definitely takes the top spot.
13
Adam
“Next round is on Adam,” Lex announces, prompting a cheer from our teammates at table seventeen.
We’re already several rounds in, and there’s no way I’m ready for another. Hell, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. Three beers is usually my limit. I’ve never been into the drink-until-you-puke scene.
But I can’t say no to Lex. The guys have sprung for every single one of my drinks tonight. The least I can do is return the favor.
“Drink up, boys,” I say, lifting my still half-full glass. “But don’t order any of that fancy-ass fruity bullshit.”
I try to sound upbeat, but the truth is my heart isn’t in our celebration. Don’t get me wrong. I’m psyched that we beat UConn tonight. And stoked that it was my goal that sealed the win, which should help convince Coach to keep me on the first line.
But I can’t shake the image of Kolby’s face when Slags made that stupid remark about him jerking off after class. And even worse, his downhearted expression when I did fuck-all to stand up for him. It was like I’d stabbed him in the heart. With a rusty, serrated knife. And twisted it for good measure. I’ve never felt like more of a douchebag in my life.
I thought I could do this. Thought I could keep Kolby and hockey separate without hurting anyone. Christ, I’m such an idiot. The way I’m treating him is no better than the way Chase treated me. And he deserves more than that. So much more. He deserves a guy who’s proud to call him his boyfriend.
When I first spotted him in the concourse tonight, my heart swelled like the Grinch’s when that green fucker discovered the true meaning of Christmas. I know for a fact Kolby’s never been to a Moo U hockey game before. He told me so himself during our first skating lesson. Which means he came today for one reason—to see me play. Knowing he did that—went outside his comfort zone for me—made me feel like I could leap tall buildings in a single bound.
Then I remembered that I was surrounded by my teammates, and, like an idiot, I panicked, making me act like an even bigger idiot.
“Hey, Serrano.” Lex elbows me in the ribs. “You okay? You got quiet all of a sudden. And you look like you’ve seen Gretzky’s ghost.”
“Gretzky’s not dead.”
“Duh. Which is why seeing his ghost would make you look how you look right now. Freaked out. And pale as fuck.”
I’m not sure how much sense that makes, but I’m too preoccupied to argue with him about it.
“I’m not freaked out.” Which is true. I’m not. I’m pissed off. At myself.
“Whatever you say, man. But I know if I scored the game-winning goal—and I wasn’t dating the greatest girl on the planet—” He glances over at Kaitlyn, who’s doing shots with Tate Adler’s girlfriend, Maggie, with an expression on his face that can only be described as disgustingly devoted. “I’d have been all over those chicks who were here a few minutes ago. The brunette was definitely into you.”
Yeah, a little too into me. And a lot too forward. I thought I was going to have to pry her fingers off my arm with a crowbar. “Not interested.”
“You got a girl back home or something?”
Or something, I think. Not say. Because even though I know Lex is a good guy, and he’s the last person who would judge me for being bisexual, I’m still too chickenshit to tell him I have a boyfriend.
Or had. After tonight, I’m not sure where I stand with Kolby. I wouldn’t blame him if he kicked my sorry ass to the curb.
“I’m going to head out after I finish this.” I raise my glass, only slightly less full than it was a few minutes ago. “I’ll go find our waitress and square up for that last round.”
