Out in the Offense (Out in College 3)
“A girl in my psych class stared at me for two hours straight, then she cornered me afterward and told me she thought my boyfriend was super cute.”
“Me or Sky?” I teased, flopping beside him on the sofa.
“Ha. Ha. I don’t know and I didn’t ask. I figured it was a sign I should hibernate for a while.”
“I’m beginning to think we shouldn’t hide.”
Max muted the television and shifted to face me. “Are you saying you want to come out?”
“Honestly, I don’t want to. Ever. Not because I’m ashamed, but because it’s the least interesting thing about me. I can tell anyone who asks when I started to love football, when I wanted to play, and the day I decided I never wanted to stop playing, but I have no explanation for being gay. I don’t know when it happened or why. I didn’t practice. It’s not a skill or a vocation. It’s just who I am. And I’m kinda tired of worrying about all the negative BS I’ll have to deal with if anyone finds out. Why not just say it and get it over with?”
Max gaped at me. “Really? What about your team? Jesus, what about your parents? You said your dad lost his mind when you told him you weren’t going to law school. He might actually disown you for being gay.”
“But it won’t make me less gay,” I replied. “Same goes for my team. I can’t spend my whole life hiding, Max. It feels like the longer I deny who I am, the more I let them win.”
“You’re really going to do it,” he said in an awed tone.
“Yeah. I don’t know when, but yeah…I want to. And I know we always said we were in this together but—”
“No. You have to do what’s right for you.”
I smiled. “Thanks. What about you?”
“I think I’ll run away and join the circus or maybe move to LA and become a roadie for a famous band. The possibilities are endless,” he snarked.
“Or you could be the first out baseball player drafted to the majors. You never know till you try.”
Max flashed a Cheshire cat grin at me. “Rory is good for you. He doesn’t look like a model for positive queer outlook, but he seems to have his shit together.”
“He does. And I think it’s time for me to get mine together too. Eventually. I’m not making any announcements right away, Max. I’m just mentally preparing myself for when the time seems right. Maybe after the holidays. Maybe next year. I don’t know.”
“I wonder how you know when the time is right. There oughtta be an app for that, so you get this ding, ding, ding on your phone and boom! You’ve got twenty-four hours to douse yourself in rainbow glitter and announce your homo-dom to the universe. You can choose a signature anthem and kickass wardrobe change. I’m David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust, and I’m gonna blast ‘Starman.’ How ’bout you?”
“ ‘Starman’ is my favorite. Choose another.”
“Since when? That’s mine. You can have a Britney song,” he teased.
“No fuckin’ way.” I tossed a throw pillow at his head, then grabbed the remote from his hand.
He pounced on top of me and in no time, we were wrestling like a couple of grade-school kids. The silly respite was a nice reminder we’d be okay. Max and I had been a team for a long time. It was time to part ways and work on our issues alone. He’d tell his story in his unique voice when he was ready, and I’d do the same. Maybe someday we’d look back at our younger selves and wonder why we’d been so afraid. Maybe ten years from now, he’d be a famous baseball player and I’d be a sought-after NFL coach. No one would talk about our sexuality; they’d be too busy celebrating our achievements. It was a good dream. But with a little blood, sweat, and tears, anything could happen.
Perez wanted to announce my plans to stay on before the last game of our season that Saturday. I agreed with the timing. I’d already talked to my parents and though they weren’t happy with my decision initially, my dad called me a couple of days later and said it wasn’t a bad idea. He suggested I might be a bit immature for law school and that I’d benefit from another year as an undergrad. He didn’t once mention football or my plans to take on a minor, but that just meant we were back to normal.
Honestly, I was relieved he was talking to me at all. It gave me one less thing to worry about before Saturday night. After we won and the announcement was made, I could think about when and how to eventually come out. Unless Sky did it for me sooner. In my quest to take an offensive approach, I decided to confront him directly. I called him several times after he left. He didn’t return any of my voice messages but when I texted, he replied immediately.