Out in the Offense (Out in College 3)

“Bullshit,” I exclaimed, jumping to my feet.

“Christian!” My father hissed.

“No. This is wrong. I’d like to take the opportunity to remind you all of a few things. I didn’t commit a crime. A crime was committed against me, an LGBTQ member of your student body. I am responsible for four winning seasons that have resulted in three championship wins during my tenure as a student athlete here. I’ve gone above and beyond my duties as quarterback to ensure I’ve represented Chilton with honor, pride, and respect. So I’m sorry…you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t quite comprehend the supposed justice behind removing me from my position. I’m the best thing you’ve got going at the moment. You can hide behind your rhetoric of propriety and community standards, or you can wake up and take a look around you. I am a voice for this community…as an athlete, a student, and a leader. If you choose not to stand behind me, you stand against me and every minority at this school. Make no mistake, this was a hate crime. Deal with it responsibly. Don’t back down.”

I took a cleansing breath and looked around the oval conference table at the shocked expressions of the board members. Well, not everyone was shocked. My father looked apoplectic. But when I glanced over at my coaches and caught the reluctant humor on Flannigan’s lips and Perez’s huge shit-eating grin, I felt oddly vindicated. Fuck the rest of them. I loved football, I loved my time at this school, but I wouldn’t let someone else’s act of cowardice define my legacy as an athlete or a person. I was better than this. And I had much more to give.

“If you have any further questions, have your people talk to my people,” I said, gesturing to my coaches. “Please excuse me, gentlemen. I have a statistics test to study for. Thanks for your time.”

My father called my name, but I didn’t look back. I had nothing more to say, and I definitely wouldn’t apologize.

I raced out of the administration building and typed a quick message on my cell as I made my way across campus. It was a gorgeous day. The sun was shining, but it was cool and crisp, like a good autumn day should be. A few students gave me high fives and fist bumps. A few others shouted, “We love you, Christian!” or some variation of “You’re cool, man,” as I headed for my car.

I wasn’t cool or special, but I had my moments. I needed one more major moment today ’cause at the end of the day, I didn’t care about my place on the team or in my family. My future happiness depended on something and someone else entirely, and I was going to do whatever I could to get it back.

Twenty minutes later, I pulled up into the Starbucks parking lot. When I didn’t see Rory’s truck in the lot, my heart nosedived to my stomach. Maybe he changed his mind. I checked his text response again. I’ll be there. Rory never said anything he didn’t mean.

I checked my reflection in the window as I walked toward the entrance. I hated wearing a suit and tie. I looked like a dweeb in grown-up clothes. I hooked my finger in the knot to loosen it, pushed the door open, and headed for the counter. I placed my order before stepping aside to wait with my gaze trained on the door. Funny enough, I felt his presence before I saw him. I turned to thank the barista for my drinks, then looked up and there he was.

And just like that, everything fell into place.

I met Rory at our table by the window and set the cups down before taking a seat.

“What the hell is that?”

“A pumpkin spice latte,” I replied, biting my lower lip.

“I hate that shit.”

“It’s not yours, it’s mine.”

“You always get iced coffee. Something’s up with you,” he said suspiciously. “You look hot, by the way. Can I say that, or is that against tutor-student rules?”

“You can say it,” I replied with a smile.

He returned my smile with a weaker version, then tapped his fingers on the table. “Where’s your book?”

“I didn’t bring it. I just wanted to talk to you. I kind of panicked and this seemed like a good place and—”

“Is everything okay?”

“No.”

Rory furrowed his brow. “What happened? Did they kick you off the team or out of school? They can’t do that, you know.”

“Huh? No,” I replied, waving dismissively. “I wasn’t talking about football or school. That’s not important.”

“Then what—”

“I love you,” I blurted.

“I—”

“No. Please, let me talk. Everything around me is crashing and burning. I have to wait till the smoke clears to see what’s left, but to be honest…I don’t really care. Yeah, I’ll be sad if my football career is over, but it’s gonna end someday anyway. And I’m trying to come to grips with the idea that my family life as I knew it is over. I can’t change myself to make my parents happy. This is who I am. And I think I’m gonna be okay. But I’ll be a million times better with you.”