by Eden Finley
This kid is talking a million miles a minute. Someone get him some Adderall, stat.
This whole thing is bullshit. I wish I could say it wasn’t pure jealousy filling my veins with anger, but I know it is. This guy, who has the same amount of talent that my little finger did when I was top of my game, has an agent. He has the fucking idiocy and disrespect of going out the night before a game, but he has a future in baseball. What do I have? I have to sit back and watch others—others who don’t deserve it—succeed where I failed.
I grit my teeth and force myself to stay professional and calm. “Well, congrats on the contract. I need to get back to the office and inform my bosses you’re already taken.”
“Wait. Can I get a selfie?”
Jesus Christ on a cracker.
“Sure.”
He takes his phone out of his pants—geez, if either me or my teammates had our phones on us in the dugout, it was immediate one-game suspension. Guess Newport has higher standards than OU. Logan snaps the shot, and my feet practically make divots with each hard step I take from the dugout to the field entrance.
It’s not until Maddox catches up to me I even remember he’s here.
“Didn’t go well?” he asks.
“You could say that.”
Maddox grabs my arm to stop me from walking so fast. “What happened?”
“He signed with another agency.”
“Isn’t that a good thing? You didn’t want him.”
I shake my head and walk off again. Maddox doesn’t get it. He won’t ever understand it.
“Damon—”
I spin on my heel. “How is it fair? That kid has my future, and he’s half the pitcher I was. After my injury, I became kryptonite. No one wanted me. Even if I’d pushed hard and risked further injury to get back to where I was, all the agents had disappeared.” I don’t realize I’m yelling until I notice the people around us are staring.
“Come with me.” Maddox grabs my arm and pulls me down the path that runs behind the bleachers.
“Bet you spent a lot of time back here,” I grumble.
Maddox laughs. “I was a bleachers type of guy in high school. In college, I had class. Used to fuck behind the stacks in the library.”
“Much classier.”
Maddox pulls me down to the ground, and we sit with our backs against a concrete pillar. His arm is flush up against mine, and I like it way more than I should.
“Was this the first baseball scout you’ve done?” he asks.
I nod and stare into the distance.
“Okay, so that’s going to be hard no matter what. Now the first one is over, the next one will be easier.”
“I was fine until he told me he’s already got an agent when nothing here today showed me he was ready for it. Kinda lost my shit.”
Maddox laughs. “Just a bit, and can I just say, I’m liking this freaked-out Damon more than I should.”
“You what?”
“You always seem so together and in control. You have direction and drive. You’re like … a grownup.”
“Hate to break it to you, but so are you.”
“Nah, I float by on life and run away from my problems. I have a job I’m good at—and don’t get me wrong, I love it—but I had plans when I went off to college to travel and see the world once I was done. But I went straight into my job, and even though I have the funds, I haven’t done anything about going anywhere. I graduated almost a year ago now. It’s like I’m content to always think about what I want without acting on it. What made you decide to become an agent?”
“It was always my backup. I knew the chance of playing ball professionally was small, but I was so close. The first year of law school was the hardest, because I was still dealing with the fact I was never going to play again. Not at a competitive level. And then I was angry at everyone who abandoned me. My agent, the millions of offers from other places. I understand why they did it, but it made me want to be better than them. I wanted to become the agent those guys weren’t.” I haven’t told anyone about this shit. There’s something about Maddox that makes me lay it all out there.
“Since I met you, I’ve had this weird awe-slash-jealousy thing toward you,” he says. “Until now, the most I’ve seen you close to losing it was when I cornered you in my apartment and you fled like your ass was on fire. Even then, you were still in control of that whole situation. So, yeah, as mean as it is, I like seeing you ruffled. Makes you more human.”
“Don’t put me on a pedestal I don’t belong on, Maddy. I may act like I have my shit together, but I’m faking it. I think most adulting is faking it.”
Maddox grins.
“And I think you should just do it,” I say. “Plan a trip somewhere. Anywhere. Go to Niagara so you can say you’ve been to a different country, at least.”
“Canada doesn’t count, but you’re right. I should just do it. Maybe Stacy will come with me.”
I almost blurt out I’d go, but that’s not going to happen. I don’t have time to go away. Then there’s the long list of other reasons like being around Maddox drives me crazy, I want him, and it’s still a bad idea to be with him.
“As far as baseball goes,” Maddox says, “it sucks you can’t be the one on the other side of the contract. But look at it this way, when you find that ballplayer who’s great—who’s even better than you were—you’re going to do everything in your power to give that guy what you couldn’t have. His success will be your success, and you get to be by his side when he makes it big. It won’t be the same, but it’s the closest you’re going to get. And not everyone has that opportunity.”
I turn my head to find his blue eyes piercing mine. “I see it now. The TA thing. I can see why they all loved you.”
His gaze drops to my lips. I want to kiss him, and it’s getting harder and harder to remember why I shouldn’t. But when he shifts, my immediate reflex is to break the connection and turn away.
“What are you doing on the weekend?” Did I swallow a chunk of dirt in the last five seconds? My mouth is dry and my voice comes out rough.
He sighs, probably because I’ve rejected him again. “Have to head back to PA. Crazy aunt’s visiting.”
“Right. You said that. Need your fake boyfriend to tag along?” What am I doing? I can’t survive another weekend with him.
“You’ve got finals coming up. You need to study.”
The disappointment is heavier than I expect. I do need to study, but I can’t make myself care about it. I’d rather be in Pennsylvania, pretending to be Maddox’s boyfriend.
“I can study anywhere, but if you don’t want me to go—”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”
He doesn’t.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MADDOX
Philadelphia is out of my way, but I figure I’m already making the long-ass trip to see my parents, and a small detour won’t hurt.
I catch the train, but when I arrive in Philly, I wonder if I’m making a huge mistake. Against my better judgment, I messaged Matt the night his news leaked. The way he was outed was harsh, and I wanted him to know he wasn’t alone. Or something. I don’t know. My gut told me to message him. Now I’m wondering if this is a dumb idea. He gave me his address when I told him I’m coming home this weekend and said we should catch up.
My GPS app on my phone says Matt’s place is around this corner, and for some reason, I feel sick. And when I see the media circus outside his building, my gut churns more.
The news broke six days ago, and they’re still camped outside. I’d hate to be Matt right now.
Matt’s doorman stops me and asks my name and who I’m there to see. When I mumble it so the vultures behind me can’t hear, he repeats it into a two-way loud enough for the whole building to hear.
Thanks, dude.
That’s when I realize he’s not a doorman but hired security. For Matt.
The back of my neck burns as cameras go off behind me. My ass mi
ght be in some tabloids tomorrow, but I refuse to turn around and give them a money shot of my face. I’m not ashamed to be here, or for them to speculate who I am or what I’m doing, but I don’t want to bring more shit to Matt’s life. And considering I’m holding my duffel bag for the weekend, they might print Matt and I are getting married. Because duffel bag equals serious relationship in the tabloid world.
The security guy waves me through, and I head up to Matt’s apartment on the top floor. When he opens the door, the late afternoon sun pours into his huge-ass loft. His brown hair sticks up at all angles as if he just crawled out of bed. He hasn’t shaved in God knows how long, and his tight wife-beater and sweats are dirty.
We stare each other down, and then wordlessly, he steps aside to let me in. His apartment is the size of my entire floor which has nine studio apartments on it.
“Damn. The NFL must pay the big bucks, huh?”
“Something like that. What are you doing here, Maddox? Are you here to yell at me too? I actually deserve it coming from you, so go ahead and get it out of your system and then leave.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m here to make sure you’re okay. Who yelled at you?”
“Let’s just say not all of my teammates were happy when the news broke last week.”
“Are you serious? Like … serious, serious? Who was it? That’s not okay.”
“Doesn’t matter now. It’s done. My career is done. They win.”
“Why is your career done?”
Matt stares in disbelief and he asks again, “Why are you here?”
“Because we were roommates? Because of … what happened between us? Getting outed the way you did, it’s got to suck.”
“But I—but we—and … you don’t hate me for misleading you years ago?”
“Did you do it on purpose?”
“I-I … Shit, I don’t know. I think I was in denial when you and I hooked up, even though I did mess around with a high school buddy too—I didn’t lie about that. I wanted to be straight but I just … wasn’t.”
“So how was I to know if you didn’t know?”
“I’ve always felt guilty. Like I took advantage or—”
“Uh, pretty sure I never told you stop. Or returned the favor. If anyone was taking advantage, it was me. I enjoyed myself. A lot.”
Matt grins.
“And the joke’s on both of us, because even after what happened between us, I thought I was still straight. Turns out, not so much.”
“You’re—”
“Bi. Apparently. It’s a new revelation. Still seems fake when I say it aloud, but I’m slowly getting there.” It’s rolling off my tongue easier now. My head knows it to be true, but I don’t know why it’s hard to admit it aloud. There’s a small part of me that worries how people will react, but I don’t know why. When I was outed back home, I didn’t give a shit what people thought. Maybe that’s because I thought it was fake. This is real. And the threat of someone reacting violently is real, even if the world is getting better. Slowly. Really fucking slowly.
The smile on Matt’s face falls. “Wait, is that why you’re here? So we could …” He waves a finger between us. “Because I don’t think that’s a good—”
“No. I’m not here for that. It’s a long story, but my hometown thinks I’m gay, so I guess, technically, I’m already out. I haven’t had a massive struggle with this. But the thought of going through what you are right now …”
“Oh, so this visit is out of pity? Thanks, but I don’t need it. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“No. It’s not pity. I’m screwing this up. I’m here as a friend, letting you know you don’t have to do this on your own if you don’t want to.”
Matt’s eyes glisten but he shakes it off to hide it. “Want coffee?”
“Sure.” I dump my bag on his couch and follow him into the kitchen.
“Plan on staying?” He tips his head toward my bag.
“Nah, heading home after here to see my parents and aunt who’s visiting.”
“And everyone at home thinks you’re gay?”
“It’s not an interesting story. Trust me. It also makes me out to be an asshole, so I’m not going to share it right now.”
“What’s the fun in being losers if we can’t make fun of ourselves while doing it?”
“Matt, you’re not a loser.”
He lets out a sad laugh. “My contract, which was in the middle of negotiations, isn’t up for renewal anymore. Funny how it disappeared when the photos were leaked. I can’t leave my apartment without being stalked by paparazzi, and my management team has told me there’s nothing they can do in terms of getting me a new contract. No one wants to invite this circus to their club. And to top it off, my endorsements are gone. If that doesn’t tell you I’m a loser, then maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
“You haven’t left your apartment in a week?” I realize he spat a whole lot of other important shit at me, but that’s the thing I get stuck on.
Matt shakes his head.
“Want to come home with me for the weekend? No one’s going to be looking for you in the sticks.”
“Really?”
I shrug. “Sure. Last month I brought home a baseball player. This month a football player—a famous football player. That’s one way to keep the gay rumors afloat.”
“Okay, please tell me that story.”
“I will on the long-ass drive. We can take your car, right? Otherwise, you might be spotted on the train.”
“No problem. I’ll go pack a bag.”
***
Getting out of Philly proves more difficult than we expect. Those fuckers with cameras follow us in their vans. Doesn’t help Matt drives a Lamborghini. Way to be inconspicuous.
We think we lose the vultures around the exit for Red Hill but can’t be sure. It takes half as long to spill my story to Matt than it does to lose the people chasing him.
“Wait, wait, wait. Your ex told your entire town you were gay, you never bothered correcting them, and it turns out you do like guys?”
“Yup.”
At least my story puts a smile on his face. I get the feeling he hasn’t smiled that wide in a long time.
When he pulls up to my parents’ driveway, he makes no move to turn the car off. “I’ll leave you to your family thing if you point me in the direction of the nearest hotel.”
“The best you’ll do in these parts is a motel, back on the main strip. You have a choice of one. Told you we’re small town.”
“Better than the four walls of my apartment.”
“I was in your apartment, and I guarantee you, there’s way more walls than four.”
He waves me off. “You know what I mean.”
“Okay, well, I’ll have dinner with the folks and message you later. Maybe we can hit a bar tonight or something.”
“Uh, dunno if that’s a good idea.”
“Right. Public. We can hang out in your room. Might be an idea to book the room under my name. We may be small town, but we are connected to the internet, and news of a celebrity will spread.”
“Thanks, I’ll do that.”
Mom’s already waiting for me curbside when I get out of the car. “Who’s your friend?” She ducks her head to peek through the windshield.
Matt gives an awkward wave before he drives off.
“Friend from Philly. He needed to get away for a few days so he’s staying at the motel in town.”
“Where’s Damon?”
“He had to study. He’s got less than eight weeks of graduate school left, Mom. He can’t drop everything to come home with me every time I need to.”
“Your … friend …” She points toward the direction Matt went. “He’s just a friend, right? Because we love Damon.”
I roll my eyes. Hard. “Just a friend.”
“Okay, well, Aunt Cheri hasn’t arrived yet, but she should be here soon.”
“Why does she want to see me anyway?” I
ask as I follow her into the house.
“You’ll have to ask her that.”
Dad hands me a beer as soon as I walk in and tells me to take a seat in the living room. Seeing as I was here a month ago, we don’t have much to talk about. We rarely have anything to talk about normally, but the silence is familiar—comforting, even.
When the telltale sound of a car idling in the driveway comes, Mom and Dad rise to meet Aunt Cheri at the door.
“Do you have any cash?” she asks. “I’ve only got my credit card and I have to pay for the cab. Sorry, I’ll pay you back.”
“I’ve got it,” Dad says and heads outside.
This whole visit is odd to me. As Jacie and I grew up, we’d see Aunt Cheri sporadically, but she never once asked to see me that I know of, so I don’t know why she wants to now. The last time I saw her, I was a teenager, and I can’t remember the exact specifics. I could’ve been fifteen or seventeen for all I know.
She’s a vision of perfect hippiness. When she takes off her coat, her long white dress flows over her thin frame, and her long blonde hair falls down her back. The only thing missing is a halo of flowers on her head.
“Maddox,” she says, her voice melodic.
I hold my arms out, because Aunt Cheri has always been a hugger like most of that side of the family. She’s nearly as tall as me and double the height of Mom.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Mom says. Aunt Cheri stares at Mom in silent question. “I have a vegan option for you,” she adds.
Still a nutcase. Vegetarians, I can forgive. Vegans? Are they even real humans?
Aunt Cheri drags me over to the couch and sits next to me while Mom and Dad putter around in the kitchen. “So, tell me about your life.”
“Uh … well … I work for Parsons’ Media.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s an advertising firm.”
“Does that pay well? Living in the big city, it’s exciting but expensive, right?” And this just got weirder. She’s never been interested in my life as far back as I can remember.