Sebastian whispers, “Could use your help, actually.”
Mason flicks up an eyebrow. His silence only elevates the ridiculous thump of Sebastian’s heartbeat. But a glint shines in Mason’s eyes. “Anything you need, Captain.”
30
It’s especially dark with the stadium’s floodlights off. The sky’s an inky blue over the deserted pitch. It’s been thirty minutes since Sebastian sent his parents a text saying he’d meet them later and twenty-five minutes since he sent the team off with promises of dropping by Sergio’s. It’s been twenty-two minutes since he hijacked Grey, whispered his idea in her ear while slipping her some money for supplies, and pried her hands from around his forearm as she leapt around ecstatically.
Sebastian grimaces at his surroundings.
Two dozen lit candles are spread around the pitch. Grey helped, cracking jokes about the grass catching on fire. Yeah, exactly what he needs. But as cheesy as it is, those flickering lights add to the whole grand-romantic-gesture crap he was aiming for.
Sebastian hugs himself against the dry, chilly air. He paid Clark, the stadium’s tech guy, to create an atmosphere. None of that One Republic or The Fray lameness. No Coldplay. Sebastian’s cheesy, but he can’t do corny.
In his head, the soundtrack to Sebastian’s life with Emir is vibrant and loud, like electric indigo. It’s thunderstorms over a city. It’s neon-bright, like summer fireflies.
The crappy PA system is playing M83, and it’s perfect.
Sebastian fishes out his phone and checks the time. He paces in a circle. He’s trying not to get too far into his own head. Lily’s words echo: “When the stars fall away…” They prevent him from having a panic attack. That is, until Emir says, “What the bloody hell is this?”
Sebastian winces, then turns slowly. Sweat prickles against his scalp. It only takes him five seconds to realize he’s not going to have a panic attack. No, this was worth the wait and the small bursts of anxiety.
Emir is staring at Sebastian, motionless. It’s discomfiting, but whatever, right? It’s not Emir’s first time using the “what the hell?” glare.
“Bastian?”
Sebastian beams, unashamed.
A line of candles separates them. Sebastian stretches a hand toward Emir. After a long pause, Emir’s palm slides over Sebastian’s. He steps forward, angling right into Sebastian’s body, hesitation be damned.
Sebastian says, “I’m sorry.”
“Okay.”
“For a lot of things,” Sebastian quickly adds. Emir laces their fingers together and it steadies him. “For years and years of being a total idiot, and for those last days at camp.” He didn’t plan what he’d say. He whispers, “Also, for not telling you a bunch of things.”
“Like?”
“I’ve missed you, forever. When you went to England, when I first saw you at camp, the last few days.” His throat tightens. “Before and after today’s game.”
Sebastian never had to express himself to Sam. With her lack of investment, she didn’t need it. Or maybe she did, but he’s chalking up to youth his failure to recognize such things. Now, with Emir, he’s learning to get his thoughts and emotions and nameless-whatever out of his system.
Emir says, “Me too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, reckon so,” says Emir, smiling. “You bloody well know that.”
Sebastian doesn’t know a lot of things, but he’s discovering them. He’s tired of being a coward. But things like this take time. He says, clearly and openly, “I love you. I didn’t know it years ago, but I don’t think you understand those things when you’re ten.”
“Me neither.”
Sebastian didn’t know how much he wanted to hear those words until now.
Emir says, “You don’t realize how much you’ve done for me. Abbu was so proud of me today.” Tiny flames make Emir’s eyes translucent gray. He’s meets Sebastian’s eyes. “It was so hard being around you at first. I wanted to walk away.”
Sebastian’s fingers squeeze Emir’s. Emir twitches, but doesn’t pull away. And Sebastian, full of calm and understanding, threads fingers into Emir’s damp hair to keep loose strands off his face.
“You’re losing your touch.”
“Your face is insufferable.”
“Weak,” teases Sebastian.
“And I want your bloody hoodie back. It’s mine,” Emir says. And scowls.
It’s the opposite of romantic, and Sebastian laughs, sudden and bright, until his stomach coils into a knot. “Better,” he says between breaths.
Amused lines form around Emir’s eyes.
“So, this is, um, me and you?” Sebastian pauses. “I’m allowed to call you my…”
It’s just one word. His brain isn’t used to referring to someone as his boyfriend. Maybe he wants to be okay with it. He’s already done the hard part, coming out to his family, defining what love is to him.
He can do this.
But Emir must sense his intent, because he brushes his mouth over Sebastian’s. He whispers, “Just call me Emi, okay?”
Lips still resting near Emir’s, Sebastian says, “Emi.”
His heart does acrobatics. Emir flashes this toothy smile that has been all for Sebastian since forever. So, he kisses Emir.
Five minutes later, slightly out of breath, Sebastian says, “I have no idea what I want to do after graduation.” If he’s going to do it, he might as well shed all his secrets.
Emir circles his arms around Sebastian’s neck. “College? Pros? Stripper?”
Sebastian snorts. He wiggles his eyebrows, and Emir quickly protests, “I’m not sharing you with anybody.”
“That’s good to know.”
The low-burning candles shine light across their faces. Sebastian slides a hand up Emir’s spine. “What about New York?” he asks. “I don’t have a plan, but if the pros don’t work out, maybe coaching?”
“Good idea. You’re getting better at that.”
“I’ve got a lot of practice with a stubborn player.”
“New York sounds good.”
“Yeah?”
Emir’s cold fingertips press Sebastian’s nape. His warm breath brushes Sebastian’s cheek. “We could make do.”
Sebastian almost loses focus. Emir’s thumb rubs that soft spot behind his ear, and Sebastian cranes his head back. We. Emir said “we,” and Sebastian has to be sure. Emir’s shy expression is confirmation enough.
“I’ve applied for a scholarship, and my parents have found some good deals on apartments,” Emir says. “The Village?”
It takes a second before Sebastian comprehends: Emir is asking him. “Yes” slips from his mouth. And then he kisses Emir, again. It’s not perfect. Sebastian doesn’t care, because nothing about them has ever been perfect. But it’s soft, and he settles into the shape of Emir’s mouth, slow-building toward incredible.
“Finally!”
It’s Willie hollering, followed by wolf-whistles and laughter. In the bleachers, the whole team is either making dramatic kissy faces or gagging like total assholes.
Sebastian loves them. He loves that Emir hides his face in the crook of Sebastian’s neck, earning them a few more catcalls, before Emir owns his abashment. Sebastian loves that Zach is arm in arm with Jack.
Charlie screams, “Get it, Hughes!”
“I got it all on video,” yells Grey, shaking her cell in the air. She’s hip to hip with Willie, and Mason is leaning into her. Huh. That might work out.
A quiet coolness settles in Sebastian. He hasn’t figured it all out yet. But an entire season is ahead of him. And then graduation.
There’s still time.
The future is only grim because people see it that way. It’s unpredictable. Life is a summer storm of insecure thoughts. There’s an umbrella of precautions to prevent insecurity,
but it doesn’t always keep the rain out of your face.
Besides, over the summer, Sebastian’s learned that he doesn’t mind the rain. Good things happen in the rain. It’s great for scrimmages and sleeping in and accidental kisses with the one person you think hates you most.
Right now, the future can kiss Sebastian’s ass.
He’s under a blue-purple sky. The air smells of burnt wax, ground spices, and chilled cider; his favorite autumn scents. And his team—nope, his family—is cheering him on. The future looms, and it isn’t promising him a chance to watch Mason make the pros, to see Zach get the hell out of Bloomington, to crash in Willie and Hunter’s dorm. And that’s okay. He doesn’t let it ruin the moment.
Sebastian is sometimes directionless. The old scars from bullies are still healing. And, yeah, he can be dull and boring, but he’s okay with that. His family and friends are okay with it. His boyfriend, which sounds weird but awesome, is okay with it too. It doesn’t need to get better than this. It can; he hopes it does; but maybe that’s for another summer.
“Hey,” Sebastian says, his thumb rubbing Emir’s cold, dry lips. “Are you gonna get up early and go running with me tomorrow?”
“Shut up, Bastian,” Emir says. He grins. “Of course I am.”
Acknowledgments
This book has been a journey from the first word but it’s a journey I would’ve never taken had it not been for quite a few amazing people.
Thank you S.A. McAuley for pushing me to finally write a book instead of hiding in a corner. You saw the first draft, the first synopsis, and the first rejection. You never let me quit. You are my hero, my writing guru, but, most of all, you are my friend. I love you.
Thank you to everyone at Duet Books and Interlude Press for believing in Sebastian’s story and in me. Annie, you’ve been one of my biggest cheerleaders since the beginning. Sebastian is as much yours as he is mine. Candy, you’re a rock-star. I am still unsure how you do everything you do, but I am grateful you’re always the first to jump in and get your hands “dirty” for every author. C.B. Messer, you’re a magician. You pulled the book cover concept out of thin air! It’s beautiful and everything I didn’t know I wanted but am thankful to have. To quote Willie, your talent is “Epic.”
Forever grateful to my editors Annie Harper, Nicki Harper, and Zoë Bird. Each of you embraced the story I wanted to tell. I went through loops and challenges and a few teary-eyed moments, but it was well worth it. Thank you for taking my lump of clay and carving it into something beautiful.
To my beta readers: Caroline, Gaby, Daniela, Lincoln, and Tiffany—the things each of you did to help me fine-tune this book cannot be repaid in simple “thank you’s.” I love the bond we’ve made over the Lions.
Special thanks to my sensitivity reader, Fadwa. You helped to craft who Emir is and helped me to understand him in a new light. I hope Muslim teens everywhere see a part of him in themselves.
Jude Sierra, Pene Henson, and Ben Monopoli—thanks for encouraging me to submit this book! Also, thanks for dealing with my moments of self-doubt and pure panic over it, too. C.B. Lee, you’re awe-inspiring; I can’t begin to thank you for all you’ve done for me. Rebecca Bratton, you told me to quit my job and pursue this dream. You wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. I am forever indebted to your bravery, your words of wisdom, and your friendship.
To every fandom reader and writer who has messaged me through the years: a heap of gratitude and love for always standing by me. You sparked a fire in me that I hope never goes out. Special thanks to Eszter, Lynn, Jazz, Avery, Rayza, Ashley, and Ducky—your “you can do this” messages have been incredible.
My wonderful family and friends—Wow! This really happened. Thanks Mom for taking me out of a dark place and telling me I can pursue this dream. Thanks Dad, Sonya, Tamir, Lindsay, and everyone who cheered me on. Tamica, Jason, Ahmad, Angela, and Tony, thanks for always letting me be me.
Finally, to all the LGBTQIA+ teens everywhere—you’re my inspiration. You’re the leaders. You’re the star players. You’re the true heroes. The future is yours whenever you’re ready to take hold of it. Until then, burn as bright as you want!
About the Author
Julian Winters is a former management trainer who lives in the outskirts of Atlanta, Georgia and has been crafting fiction since he was a child, creating communities around his hand-drawn “paper people.” He began writing LGBTQ character-driven stories as a teen and has developed a devoted fan fiction following. When he isn’t writing or using his sense of humor to entertain his young nephews, Julian enjoys reading, experimental cooking in the kitchen, and watching the only sports he can keep up with: volleyball and soccer. Running with Lions is his first novel.
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Q&A with Julian
Q: How did your love of team sports, culture, and dynamics inspire and influence your writing?
At the heart of any team sport is one underlying theme: family. I believe we have two families in life—the one you’re given and the one you create. That’s the culture you witness while watching team sports. It’s very inspiring. In the soccer world, there are so many moving parts—so many cogs in this fantastic machine, and every piece is important. But what I also love are those moments of players laughing and teasing each other and bonding. They’re the first ones to stand in defense for one of their own. I wanted those dynamics reflected in Running with Lions. Every character is an important piece of the machine. At the end of the day, this sport created a second family for them.
Q: Was diverse representation something you set out to achieve?
Yes and no. We live in a time when it’s rare to go through everyday life without interacting with people from diverse backgrounds. It’s one of the most beautiful aspects of life: building those connections with people unlike ourselves. A lot of the characters, their backgrounds, were organic for me. I didn’t set out to feature characters from different races, religious beliefs, or social backgrounds in order for my book to reach a diversity benchmark. It’d be unrealistic for me to write a story that didn’t feature characters who weren’t from different backgrounds when, for most of my life, my friends and coworkers and classmates have all been from diverse backgrounds.
It’s time we normalize diversity in books, films, and TV. It needs to be the standard rather than the unique occasion.
Q: What drew you to writing a Young Adult novel? Are there particular themes of YA that you felt were important for Running with Lions?
I want to write books that inspire or comfort young adults because I didn’t have those things growing up. A lot of who I became as an adult were manifested in those years. I didn’t always have places to look for encouragement or understanding. It’s an opportunity to use my voice and reach queer teens, to tell them I understand, to let them know life’s not perfect but it truly does get to a better place.
One theme that was very important to me was Sebastian’s indecision about his future. It’s a topic I wish was explored more in YA. Not every teen walks into the first day of high school with their future planned out. Some aren’t even sure what they’ll do the day of graduation. Those young adults need to know it’s okay. They need to see their fears or concerns or indecision represented on the page. The speech Lily, Sebastian’s mom, gives at the end of the novel was my way of telling those teens that life will happen when you’re ready for it to happen. Until then, carry on the best way you can.
Q: What books did you love when you were growing up?
I’m old school. I loved The Outsiders. The family aspect of that novel really resonates. Another favorite was The Catcher in the Rye. Unfortunately, there weren’t many LGBTQ+ novels accessible to me, but I’m thrilled there are so many choices now.
Q: What books have you read lately that you wish were available when you were a teenager?
As a certified comic book geek, I wish C.B. Lee’s Not Your
Sidekick was around when I was a teen—not just the superhero aspects, but the storytelling, the setting, and the diverse characters. It’s nice to see myself in so many aspects of that book. Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz is a book that would’ve helped me come to terms with my emotions and my sexuality in a much healthier way. I would’ve also loved books like Noah Can’t Even by Simon James Green, Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli, Whatever by S.J. Goslee, and The Rules and Regulations for Mediating Myths & Magic by F.T. Lukens because they’re fun books with clumsy, comical, and earnestly confused main characters, which perfectly describes me as a teen!
For a reader’s guide to Running with Lions and book club prompts, please visit duetbooks.com.
@duetbooks
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