Out in the Offense (Out in College 3)

“Do you think it was someone on the other team? I don’t see how they could have gotten in without security seeing them.”

“It had to be an inside job.”

“None of us would do this. We love you, man.”

“Someone needs to call the police,” an older voice said from the back of the room. “And get your coach in here too.”

The reporter. Great. Wow. I didn’t quite know how to quantify just how big of a shit show I’d walked into, but I knew it was epic. My friends and teammates, my coaches, and a reporter. Everyone wanted to point fingers right now or pledge their allegiance. But soon they’d start asking the obvious…why? Then would come the inevitable, “Is it true?” Let’s face it, this had the earmark of a crime of passion. It was personal. Only my locker was desecrated. Whoever did it was pissed at me. They wanted to bring me down and expose me as publicly as possible. I’d bet anything it was Moreno, but I didn’t have proof. What I did have was twenty-plus burly men waiting for my reaction.

I opened my mouth and closed it twice. I sucked in air like a fish on dry land and tried again.

“This is um…graphic. I guess that’s the right word. I think this is a bigger reflection of whoever did this than it is of me, but—”

“Exactly. We know you’re not gay, dude,” one of my fullbacks said. I couldn’t recall his name at the moment. Greg or Gray.

I sucked in another breath and noted Jonesie standing close by, like a sentry. The smallest tilt of his head communicated unflagging support. I curled my lips in a wan smile before addressing my nervous audience.

“Here’s the thing.…I am gay.” Silence. Okay, fuck. I couldn’t do quiet right now. I had to keep talking. I swallowed hard and continued. “I’ve been thinking about how to come out for a couple of weeks, but…this wasn’t what I had in mind. I haven’t told my parents or my sister yet. I haven’t told Perez or Flannigan or any of the other coaches or professors. And I didn’t tell any of you. I could say it’s because I was waiting for the right time, but the truth is, I didn’t know how to say it at all. To anyone. I hoped it wouldn’t matter because you already know the real me. The only thing you didn’t know is that I’m gay. It’s like realizing your neighbor has blue eyes for the first time. He can see the same whether or not you acknowledge his eye color. Does that make sense? Maybe not.”

I swiped my hand through my hair in a mixture of frustration and defeat. “Look…tonight was supposed to be about winning. We won and I’m proud of our achievement. We’ve had a great year. In fact, it’s been a great four years for me. I don’t use this phrase lightly, but I mean it when I tell you I’m blessed to be part of this team. You’ve been my family…my brothers for a long time. You’ve supported me on my off days, put up with my bullshit, and made me dig deeper when I thought I couldn’t go on. I’d like to think I’ve done the same for you. I was going to announce that I’d like to stay on for a fifth year but now, this might be awkward timing,” I said with a humorless half laugh before continuing. “I’m not sure how it’ll work, so I’ll say good-bye for now. Regardless of what happens, thank you. Thank you for being part of the best four years of my life.”

Silence.

I breathed it in as I turned to open my locker. Then I pulled out my workout bag, bowed my head, and walked out.

A muffled cheer erupted and someone chanted my name, but I didn’t stop. I rounded the corner and hurried to the parking lot with my head down. I didn’t want to gauge the levels of support I might have. I knew too well that it was easy to offer platitudes in crowded rooms.

The fluctuation of an adrenaline high to a serious low was like being drop-kicked from a twenty-story building. My hands shook as I yanked my jersey over my head. I didn’t want anyone to notice me now. I desperately needed space and anonymity…in whatever form was available.

I didn’t bother checking my messages until I was home. I showered and dressed in a pair of black sweats and an old college T-shirt and was just about to lie on the sofa and lose myself in video games when someone banged on my door.

“Christian! Open the fucking door!”

Shit.

I ran to unlatch the lock, shocked to find Rory standing there. He’d never been to my apartment. We’d always met at his place because he lived alone, and it was the perfect way to avoid the Max-and-Sky drama.