I look away. “I didn’t go anywhere, Mom.”
“Yes and no. You’ve been through a lot; of course it affected you. All I ever want is for you to be happy. You know that, right?”
I nod, thankful that she’s my mom, that she wouldn’t care what I want to do with my life as long as I’m happy. Even when I came out as bisexual. I worried about how the world would take it, how football would take it, how Coach Blake would take it, but I never worried about her.
“I do. And you’re right, things are good, and it’s not only because of football, but also…” How can I say what I mean without bringing up Lucas?
“You don’t have to feel guilty if you’re happy, Hunter. And you don’t have to feel guilty about moving on. I know you loved Ellis, and he loved you. He was such a good friend, but he’s gone, and you’re alive. You can remember what you had and still give yourself a chance at a future. You’ve spent the last few years like you’re afraid to be happy, afraid to move on. That’s no way to live. Ellis wouldn’t want that.”
My vision blurs as a tear sneaks free. I wipe it away, hoping no others escape. Would Ellis want me to be happy and move on if it’s with Lucas? Is that even what I want? Why can’t all this be easier?
“I know, Mom. Thanks. Right now, I’m…trying to figure out who the hell I even am anymore.”
“You’re Hunter King. The best son in the world. The best friend, boyfriend, running back—even if you never touched afootball again. Everything else can change or grow.”
Despite her not knowing what’s actually going on, talking to her helps. We enjoy a couple of hours together before I have to head to the Blakes’, then back to the hotel. Technically, I should be eating dinner with the team, but they make an exception because of who Coach Blake is and how I’m like a son to him.
“I love you,” I tell Mom as we say goodbye.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
It’s not until I’m in the rideshare that I realize what she said. “He was such a good friend.” Why had she called Ellis a goodfriendand notboyfriend?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Hunter
For the firsttime since meeting Ellis’s folks, I’m nervous to see Coach Blake and Abbie. After Ellis died, I was sad seeing them, felt guilty, but I was too heartbroken to be nervous. Today, though, it’s all I can concentrate on.
I ring the doorbell, knowing it will be Abbie who answers. They’ve always kept very traditional roles in the Blake household.
If Ellis had been with anyone but me, I don’t know if Coach would have accepted him. It’s also why he struggled with Lucas so much. He couldn’t understand why a kid who showed natural talent for football—this masculine, perfect sport in his mind—would rather take photos, or lie in the grass and look at the sky, or go to museums. He always tried to toughen Lucas up, not realizing that Lucas has always been tough—tougher than Ellis and me, honestly, because he has always insisted on being himself.
The door pulls open, and Abbie beams. “Hunter. It’s so good to see you.” She pulls me into a hug, and there’s no doubt in my mind she loves me, or that she loves Lucas just as much as she loved Ellis. I’m like a son to them, and everything that’s happened since the day Ellis died makes me feel like I’m lying to them, that feeling magnified now, given what’s going on with Lucas.
“It’s good to see you too,” I say, squeezing her back.
I follow her into the house. Coach Blake comes out of his office, looking as stern as ever. He’s a big, burly man, wide-chested, with a full beard and mustache, but eyes so similar to Lucas’s, it’s jarring. Lucas’s are softer, though, more guarded, like he’s always protecting himself.
“It’s good to see you, son.” Coach shakes my hand.
“You too.”
He turns to Abbie. “Is dinner ready?”
He knows I don’t have much time, and I know he’ll be working tonight as well, making sure Kansas City will do everything in their power to send us home with another loss. More than ever, I’m determined not to let that happen.
“Just about,” she replies.
“Do you need any help?” I ask her.
“I’m fine, dear,” Abbie says, in unison with Coach’s, “Come outside with me for a minute.”
My spine stiffens in a way it never used to around him. Offering to help Abbie is something I’ve always done, but I’ve never wanted her to say yes as badly as I do right now.
I don’t want to be alone with him. I see him differently now, and I’m not sure how to feel about that.
He leads the way, and I follow, just like everyone does when they’re in his space—everyone except Lucas. How hard that must’ve been for him… How did such a little boy find the strength to tell this man no?
