“I’ll be there,” I assured him, looking back at Griffin, who was still sound asleep. I should wake him. He’d probably be pissed if I didn’t, but I didn’t want him there for this morning’s meeting. I wanted him to be blissfully unaware of what might happen, because it was too much to hope that everyone would react the way those who already knew I was gay had. The law of averages said that was nearly impossible. At least a few of the guys were going to be pissed.
I quickly pulled on yesterday’s clothes, hoping no one would notice because there wasn’t time to head back to the dorm for a shower and outfit change. I’d almost reached the door when it hit me that Griffin waking up and me being gone could turn out badly. I snagged a pad of paper and pen off the nightstand and wrote a quick note giving him Nixon’s number to call for a ride back whenever he woke up. As I re-read the note, I added “love you” at the bottom, just so he knew I wasn’t trying to avoid him.
The ride back to campus was quiet. I wished Lincoln would start a conversation, because I sure as hell couldn’t come up with anything. The silence allowed me time to build up the worst-case scenarios in my mind. My teammates refusing to share the locker room with a queer. Coach deciding he had to do what was best for the team, despite his assurances that he’d support me wholeheartedly.
Or the very worst scenario of all; that we’d get in there and I’d decide I wasn’t ready to do this. After all, Griffin made a point when he suggested the network wasn’t officially going to out me, so there was still time for me to put off opening up to my team. The only thing stopping me from taking the coward’s way out was the promise I’d made to Griffin last night.
Lincoln pulled to a stop in front of the dorms. He gave my shoulder a quick squeeze as I took a few breaths to steel my nerves. “You’ve got this, kid. It probably doesn’t feel like it right now, but you’re a hell of a lot braver than I was. As much as I can’t regret my life because it gave me my son, I wish I’d have had your strength when I was younger.”
“You’re right, doesn’t feel that way at all,” I agreed. Pretty soon, I was going to worry myself to the point of puking. “But it’s time. Besides, now that the trailer’s live, everyone’s going to be wondering who’s been lying to them this whole time. It’ll be better for the team if I put a stop to the speculation so we can focus on the upcoming season.”
“And that, right there, that’s why you’re going to be a damn good player for years to come. I’ll likely be in the air by the time you’re done for the day, but if you need a friendly ear, don’t hesitate to call.”
Lincoln’s praise was bittersweet, because this man barely knew me and he was giving me the reassurances I wished my father could’ve. Ever since I started playing football, he’d tried to insert himself into my life, insisting that he knew what was best for me. Now that I’d gone against his advice twice in as many months, he’d been distant. In fact, I’d only talked to him once since the day we visited and I told him I was done hiding. He tried, and failed, to get me to change my mind and keep my mouth shut, and I’d quickly ended the conversation. He hadn’t been in the stands during practice the way he had been last training camp.
“Thank you, sir. That means more than you know.” I stepped out of the car and watched as Lincoln drove away, wondering if we’d be seeing more of him this year. I hoped so, and not only because it was nice to have a mentor who understood what I was going through. I hoped he and Nixon would see the chemistry zinging between them. They deserved to be happy.
I kept my head down as I shuffled my way to the cafeteria. All around me, I heard groups of guys talking about the scandal, speculating about who was gay and whether there was more than one player they’d have to watch out for in the showers. It was tempting to spin around and tell every one of them why I would never be interested in them, beyond that whole not hitting on straight guys thing.
Nixon checked me in, eyeing me carefully as if trying to see where my head was at this morning. I gave him a nearly imperceptible nod before filing through the buffet line.
“You watching that girlish figure, Kendricks?” deShawn asked as he joined me at the table in the corner. I’d considered heaping my plate the way I would any other day, but wasn’t about to waste the food. My stomach churned so furiously I wasn’t sure I’d be able to eat the little bit I had grabbed.
“You know it,” I responded, running my hands down my sides. “Not all of us were blessed with mutant genetics. Some of us have to work to stay in shape.”
He leaned closer, keeping his voice low. “Seriously, you good?”
“Yeah, I am,” I said confidently. “How bad’s the chatter this morning?”
“Definitely buzzing.” He pushed the food around on his plate, apparently about as hungry as I felt. “You got a plan in place? I’ll back you no matter what, I already told you that, but I don’t think it’ll be long before people figure it out.”
“Agreed. And we both know the longer the rumors are flying, the longer it’ll be before we can get back to the shit that matters,” I reminded him. “Coach is going to give me some time during the morning meeting.”
“You ready for that?”
“Fuck no, but I’m pretty sure this is one of those situations you’re never really ready for,” I said. “Besides, if I do it on my terms, it takes some of the power away from production to mold my life like a ball of Play-Doh.”
“Damn, that’s gonna go over well,” he scoffed. “I called a few of my buddies that’ve been on other featured teams, and they all agree that shit seems different this year. It’s like the production company is grasping at anything they can reach to try and keep the show off the chopping block. Have you noticed how little time they’ve spent at the practice fields?”
“I guess, but I figured that was because Coach doesn’t want them filming anything our opponents could use against us.” How had I been stupid enough to not realize what was happening sooner? I wondered if deShawn was facing a similar invasion of his personal life, or if that was a special hell reserved for me. I’d ask him about it, but not here with so many people and cameras lingering.
Coach whistled to grab everyone’s attention and gave a five-minute warning for everyone to finish up and get their asses to the locker room. That got everyone talking even more, because morning meetings never happened behind closed doors. No one argued with Coach about the change in our normal routine. The whispers grew louder as the players lumbered from the dorms to the training facility. deShawn and I hung back, hoping to avoid getting pulled into their gossip.
“Quiet!” Coach demanded as soon as the last player filed into the locker room. Unlike most mornings, it was instantly so quiet you could hear the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing. “It’s been a long week and we have a lot of shit to get through. And let’s not forget that cuts will take place as scheduled in two days, so you’d all do well to keep your heads where they belong.”
“Easy for him to say,” someone near the back of the room mumbled, likely louder than he’d intended.
“I’m sorry, Hale, did you have something to say?” Coach responded, glaring daggers at the rookie running back.
“No, Coach.” I bit back a laugh as Hale tried to shrink into the lockers.
“Good. Keep it that way and refer back to my earlier point,” Coach scolded. “But that brings up the reason I wanted to meet with everyone this morning. It’s no secret that the first trailer for Outside the Pocket went live on social media last night. For the one or two of you who might not have seen it, the show seems to be deviating from their typical platform of showcasing a team getting ready for the upcoming season. This year, they’ve decided it would be more lucrative to expose the personal life of one of your teammates.”
The room broke into murmurs again. There were the anticipated complaints about how someone like me didn’t belong in a space where the straight boys were walking around naked. After drowning out their voices, I heard something that would’ve buckled my knees had I been standin
g. The majority of my teammates were outraged, and their anger was for me, not because of me.
“Do you know who it is, Coach?” Raines asked when the room quieted again.
“I do,” Coach confirmed. “I’ve known since earlier this summer.”
“Why wouldn’t you tell us?” another voice chimed in. I didn’t know who it was and resisted the urge to seek him out. I was beginning to wish I’d accepted Coach’s offer to be absent during this meeting, because I didn’t want to look at any of my teammates in a different light than I had yesterday.
“Because it’s not my story to tell.” Coach’s eyes scanned the room, looking for anyone ready to argue with him.
“With all due respect, fuck that,” Raines shot back. “I suppose I understand why no one’s fessed up yet, but we’re a team. Good or bad, we’re supposed to have each other’s backs. How can we do that if we’re worried about one of us hiding shit?”
Andy Raines was definitely a glass half-full type of guy. I wasn’t sure everyone else on the team would agree with him. As more of my teammates joined in with their own comments about us being more than just guys forced to play together, my confidence was bolstered. Nixon looked over the crowd and our eyes locked. I nodded and started weaving my way through the crowd.
“You’re right, Andy. I should’ve said something sooner, but I didn’t.” Silence fell over the room again and everyone gaped at me. “Maybe I should’ve told you guys last year, but can you really blame me for keeping my mouth shut? Every day, I get to listen to some of my teammates calling each other fags, commenting any time they think someone’s checking them out.”
“Damn, you know we’re just playin’ with all that, right?” Morris shot out from the back of the room.
“Yeah, I do,” I confirmed. “I also know there’s a lot of guys who might be playing around in here, but that doesn’t mean they’d be cool with someone like me hanging around.”
“Dude, you’re serious, aren’t you?” someone else chimed in. “It really is you, isn’t it?”
“No, Coach offered me a sweet incentive to stand up here and take the fall for this,” I deadpanned, causing a wave of laughter to break out. “The hardest part was sitting in the same room as Lincoln Sims, acting like I was totally serious about loving a guy. On the upside, if this football thing doesn’t work, I could always head to LA or New York and look into acting.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t bet on that, Kendricks,” deShawn hollered. I was glad he was getting in on the ribbing. The guys were making me feel normal. “You weren’t nearly emotional enough for that to have been acting. Better stick to playing ball.”
“All right boys, as much as we’d love to lounge around all day, there’s work to be done. If anyone has anything to say about this, speak now or forever keep your fucking mouth shut,” Coach warned, making it abundantly clear there’d be zero tolerance for any backlash.
“Hey, I got a question, Coach,” Kaden Church said, turning to face me.
“What’s up, Kaden?” I swallowed hard against the bile rising in my throat. I’d known this all went too well. There was no way the guys were going to find out I was gay and go out there like nothing had changed. That wasn’t the world we lived in.
“If you had to pick, which of us would you wanna sneak into the showers with?”
“Out of line!” Coach yelled. “Get your asses changed, taped, and onto the field.”
“I was just wondering,” Kaden grumbled. “I mean, a lot of these dudes think they should be in the running for sexiest man alive. Figured deflating some egos would help get everyone back to what really matters here.”
“You have a point,” I responded, draping my arm over his shoulder to show I wasn’t pissed off by his question. If Coach knew Kaden’s personality when he wasn’t strung tight trying to hold his position, he’d know Kaden liked to crack jokes to break through tension. He was constantly walking up behind his teammates, whispering shit to get them to quit obsessing over a bad play or two. “For the record, there’s not a single guy in this room I’d put on my list of guys to bang. I need a little mystery in my life, and y’all are way too willing to walk around with everything hanging out. Nothing left to the imagination.”
“You mean you been scoping, Kendricks?” Ahhh, there was the first hint of disgust. Good, let’s get it out of the way now.
“Yeah, sure, Nielson.” It was a ballsy tactic for sure, but every single guy in this room had checked out the competition. It didn’t matter who they liked getting down and dirty with. “Same as every other dude has. And don’t try to say you haven’t. Locker rooms are a haven for guys with penis insecurity. Y’all check out your teammates’ junk when you think no one’s watching, just to see if you’re bigger. Just because I happen to be gay doesn’t mean I’m in here window-shopping.”
“Do I need to remind you cuts are in two days?” Nixon yelled, standing on a bench in the corner. “Tape. Gear. Get your asses on the field!”
A few of my teammates wouldn’t make eye contact with me on the way to the training room, but that was the worst of the backlash. The majority thumped me on the back as they passed, reminding me we were all in this together. No one was willing to let what anyone might have to say about my sexuality take away from the upcoming season. It was a good feeling.
Twenty-Three
(Griffin)
Zach was out. The world hadn’t ended. Unfortunately, Giles had summoned me to his office two days after the trailer premiered, and I wasn’t dumb enough to think the two events weren’t connected in some way. He stared at me with pursed lips, waiting for me to shove my foot in my mouth. Good luck with that; I’d gotten damn good at saying silent unless directly confronted.
Finally, Giles’s patience snapped. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about a closed doors meeting Wednesday morning, would you?”
“I’ve heard there was one, but no, I don’t know any more than you do,” I responded honestly. I’d tried asking Zach what’d happened, but he’d refused to go into details other than to tell me it went well. It hurt when he refused to open up to me, but he’d quickly assured me he was trying to protect me from any situations like this. Now, I was grateful because I had no poker face whatsoever.
“So you would have me believe your unexplained absence that day was purely coincidental?”
“You’re going to believe whatever works for you, regardless of what I say,” I pointed out. Giles didn’t give a shit about the truth; he only cared about making good TV, and too often, reality worked against his goals.
“And where, exactly, did you say you were Wednesday? Because there’s no footage of you following Mr. Kendricks to the training facility as you’re supposed to. In fact, the only shots we have of him from that morning are when he was dropped off in front of the dorms. We had a deal that you were going to get me what I wanted as long as I backed off. You haven’t kept your side of the bargain.” There was an evil glee shining in Giles’s eyes, as though he was getting ready to threaten Zach if I didn’t cooperate. The asshole didn’t realize he’d been doing that since before our crew landed in North Carolina, starting the moment he went along with the network’s plan to expose him. Besides, he couldn’t get in trouble for being away from the dorms Tuesday night since it’d been Coach’s idea.
“I already told you I spent Tuesday evening with friends,” I reminded him. “This is my hometown and I don’t get back often. Perhaps it was a lapse in judgment, but seeing as Coach insisted on that particular meeting being closed doors, it really doesn’t matter.”
“Wrong!” Giles spat out, slamming his hands on the desk. “It matters because he was also conspicuously absent. It matters because something happened in that locker room and it’s threatening the entire season. The players seem to have formed a wall around your boyfriend and they’re on a mission to be as boring as possible whenever our crew is around.”
“Maybe they’re focused on getting ready for the season,” I suggested.
“Oh sweetie, you really are naive, aren’t you?” Giles sneered. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned since I joined Outside the Pocket, it’s that most of these players are cocky enough to rely on their contracts to get them through the cuts. The fans don’t care about those who are struggling to stay with the team because they’re nobodies. People tune in week after week because they want to feel like they’re getting a glimpse of their idols.”
“I’m not sure what to tell you, Giles.” I wanted to get out of his office before I told him to take his “it’s just business” attitude and shove it up his ass. He’d played me, expected me to evoke a certain reaction out of Zach, and now he was scrambling to recover because he hadn’t expected us to reconcile. He was the one who’d made this personal for me.
“The only thing I want to hear from you is that you’re going to fix the problem.”
“Can’t guarantee that’s going to happen,” I informed him. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m puny compared to the players. There’s no way I can walk up to them and ask them to please play nice with the cameras.”
“You’d better figure out something,” he warned me as he closed the lid on his laptop. “And let me remind you, there were terms in the contract you signed. Terms you’ve repeatedly violated. We’ve turned a blind eye to your indiscretions to this point, but with the most recent turn of events, I’m not sure we can continue the way we have been.”
I wanted to argue, to point out yet again that he’d put me in this position, but I needed to keep my job. I couldn’t afford to antagonize him to the point where he fired me. If he did, there was a chance my pink slip would be accompanied by a breach of contract lawsuit, and that would kill both my bank account and my ability to get another assignment. I glared at him as I stood, biting back every retort hanging out on the tip of my tongue.
“You have until the end of the weekend,” Giles warned as I reached for the doorknob. “If things aren’t back to normal by the beginning of the week, don’t bother showing up on Monday.”
Down By Contact (Wilmington Breakers Book 1) Page 18