CHAPTER 29
brEVAN
It’s impossible to tell if Coach’s light is on since his windows let in a lot of light. He’s not making any noise if he’s in his office.
My eyes drop to my paper, and I read it over for maybe the tenth time. It sounds convincing, right? Sighing, I let my hand drop with my paper pressed against the side of my leg and knock. Best just to get this over with.
“Enter,” Coach calls.
I take a breath and hold it in my lungs for a beat before I open the door.
Coach Lemon is great. I think he’s the best coach I’ve ever had.
He always looks out for me and all his players.
There have been many times when I’ve come to him for something, and he’s always helped me understand my options and how to choose the best one for me.
There’s a chance I should have taken that into account when he admitted he’s the one who submitted my application for CAP. I trust he has my best interests in mind more than most people.
Coach smiles as I step into his office. “Brevan. Welcome back.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
“Come in. Sit. Tell me all about your trip.”
I shut the door behind me and take a seat in the pink chair in front of his desk. His office always makes me smile since it doesn’t look like a football office at all. Maybe someone who’s interested in fashion. Is that what it looks like?
“Iceland was amazing,” I tell him. “I’ve never seen a place so beautiful, even covered in snow.”
“Did you get to see an iceberg?”
I shake my head. “I imagine if we’d spent all our days exploring, we’d still have only seen a handful of places. We did see a black sand beach, the lava tunnels, and we visited a hot spring.”
“Hot spring? Outside in the cold?”
My smile spreads wide. “We all had the same impression! But the cold and hot like that are good for your body. Well, that’s what they told us.”
He snorts. “What else? How was the university you visited?”
“On the surface, it looks like any university you could pull up in a search engine, but they’re already inherently what RDU is, but because their country is better about equality, it’s not something they have to yell. You know?”
Coach shakes his head. “No. I can’t imagine a place like that.”
“Yeah. So we spent a lot of time learning about their school, experiencing their culture, and talking about what it might look like to be sibling schools. I made a couple of new friends.”
I’ve heard many people who aren’t associated with football comment about how Coach Lemon Frost is as sour and chilly as his name suggests. But the smile he gives me is soft and kind. Sometimes I wonder what others do to earn themselves interactions other than the ones I have with him.
“Good to hear. Do you have something for me?”
I lean forward and hand him the paper I wrote. Coach accepts it and sets it on his desk. “Very good, Brevan. I’ll read this later. Tell me how you feel about having been a part of the program.”
“I’m really grateful for the experience. Rainbow Dorset is important to me, though I think it’s important for so many other people with much harsher experiences.”
“Don’t downplay your own struggles. Just because you didn’t have to face hate or bullying because of who you are doesn’t mean your childhood losses, homelessness fears, and worries over food aren’t just as traumatic.
No one gets to say who has it worse than everyone else.
Everyone is different, and they process every experience differently. ”
“Thanks, Coach. I guess… I mean, the people who surrounded me were always on my side. Coming here and now having people support and accept them hits differently for those who didn’t have that before.
I know the way my childhood played out is traumatic in its own right, but I always felt loved and supported for who I am, even when I wasn’t the smartest person around.
I was still accepted. Hearing the stories of the others in the program felt like I was experiencing secondhand trauma.
How can people treat others that way and still look at themselves in the mirror? ”
“Indeed,” Coach says.
“My point is, yes, it’s important to me, but I think I’m kind of not the typical student. I think everyone deserves to have a place like RDU, and I’m really grateful to have been involved in this new program and maybe help others understand what our university is about.”
“I know you wrote me a paper on why you deserved to be a part of this, but I want to know the truth. Do you still believe you were chosen by mistake?”
I chew the inside of my lip as I consider his question. I think about my conversations with Aueur and Einar. I think about change versus expansion and the exchange program they’re now considering for the fall. I think about Kendrick.
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
Coach’s smile widens. “Tell me why you’re smiling like that, Brevan.”
My eyes widen as I stare at him and immediately try to wipe the smile from my face. Oh damn. Oh no.
Coach Lemon laughs delightedly. “Tell me all about this new person in your life.”
Sighing, I say, “He’s wonderful. The sweetest, smartest, most selfless man I’ve ever met. I can’t tell you about him until after I graduate, but he’s so great, Coach.”
“Good to hear. I’m happy to know you had a good time, met your beau, made some friends, and learned that maybe you’re more deserving than you give yourself credit for. You’re a smart man, Brevan. I know you are. Now you need to believe in yourself.”
I’m not sure I’d go so far as to say I’m smart. Years and years of experience have proven I’m not that smart. But I don’t want to write another paper about myself, so I don’t argue.
“Go enjoy your afternoon. See you for practice tomorrow.”
I get to my feet. “Thanks, Coach.”
The season is long over, having run from August through January, but we continue to practice and play off-season games against other teams in our same division to keep our skills up. It also gives agents and teams more chances to watch us.
Not going to lie, I don’t miss the cold of Iceland. I enjoy stepping outside in nothing but my shorts and tank. There’s no biting wind, the warm sun brushing my skin instead. Yet, as I look around at the beauty of campus, I find I miss the enchanting look of the snow covering everything.
“Brevan!”
I turn around until I find Xile jogging toward me with a big smile. I return it as he runs into me, hugging me.
“Gah, I miss you and Corwin. My roommate is fine, but I miss the easy mornings and our chats.”
“Same. I don’t miss his jarring alarm, though.”
“Oof,” Xile says, laughing and taking a step back. “Not at all. Though I think it scarred me. When mine goes off, there’s an echo of his alarm in my head, and I cringe.”
“It’s had lasting effects for sure.”
“Hey, what’re you doing next Friday?” Xile asks.
“I think that’s when my game is,” I say and pull out my phone to check the calendar. “Yep. Game day.”
“You still have games?”
“Not season games. These are just to keep working on our skills and gameplay. Make us available for agents and teams to check out.”
“Huh. Well, what about the following Saturday?”
“I don’t think I’m busy. You want to hang out? Maybe we can grab Corwin too and find a picture of the mountains and crank the AC.”
Xile chuckles, shaking their head. I’m reminded of what Kendrick said. I try to see this conversation in a different way, but all I hear is a friend who wants to hang out.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask.
“Yep,” Xile says as we walk down the sidewalk slowly.
Their arm is linked with mine again, and I wonder if that’s supposed to mean something.
“I’ve always been told that I’m a little…
oblivious, and while that word wasn’t used in this situation, it’s been pointed out that you’ve been trying to show you’re interested in me since we arrived in Iceland. Is that true?”
Xile gives me a sly smile. “It is true. I thought I was being ridiculously obvious.”
“Oh.” My cheeks heat up. “I… I, uh, I’m seeing someone.”
“You can just tell me you’re not interested,” Xile says. “That’s cool.”
“No. I mean, yes, I guess I’m not, but maybe I might have been if I wasn’t seeing someone, but I am.”
They look at me. “Yeah?”
“Wait, am I leading you on? I am—”
“Seeing someone,” Xile says, laughing again. “I heard you, and I believe you.”
“Can we still be friends? I’d still like to hang out and talk or whatever.”
Xile pats my arm. “Yeah, Brevan. I’d like that too.”
“Okay, good.”
We walk for a while, and Xile tells me about their courses before they take off for the Queer Palace Café. After they disappear inside, I adjust my direction and head for Kendrick’s house. It’s after three, so he should be home.
It’s difficult to sneak around in broad daylight. There are only two months we’ll need to do it for, but already, just a few days after getting back, it feels improbable that we’re going to manage to keep it a secret.
I’ve come up with the idea that I’ve volunteered to walk Martha after school because I miss my childhood golden retriever. I just have to remember I had one—which I didn’t. Lying isn’t easy for me, but I’m training myself with this story by chanting it in my head, over and over again.
This gives me a reason to stop at Kendrick’s house. I drop my bag inside and get Martha all strapped into her harness and leash, then we go out for a walk in the park or around campus. Giving myself a reasonable alibi and proving that I am walking Martha.
I’m working up to running with her, too. That way, I’m getting in some cardio as I paint this lie brightly colored with no cracks.
When we get back to Kendrick’s house, I’ll enter through the fenced-in backyard, and we’ll go in through the sliding door. The nearest neighbors are a little ways down the block, off campus property. They’re the same neighbors who stopped in to let Martha out when Kendrick’s son had to leave early.
As I wander around the park with Martha today, I think about that.
Given what Kendrick has told me about his kids, I wonder if Seth really did have an emergency or if he was making an excuse so he could leave before Kendrick got home.
Not that I wish his apartment was flooded, but I really hope that he didn’t lie about an emergency just to get out of spending time with Kendrick.
Then again, Kendrick said that Seth had come a few days early, so that means something, right?
I wish I could make his kids understand what it’s like to lose their parents unexpectedly.
Over the years, it leaves you wondering what the last thing you said to them was.
Did you remember to tell them you love them?
Had the last thing I’d said as a kid been selfish and angry because I hadn’t gotten what I wanted?
My breathing feels heavy, so I push thoughts about my parents aside. We’re making our way into the backyard now anyway, and I don’t want to get myself all worked up. It’s been more than a decade since I lost my parents. I feel like maybe it shouldn’t hurt so bad and I’m being a baby.
Martha is like a storm as she excitedly bounces around and barks at Kendrick. I imagine she’s telling Kendrick where we went and who we saw.
Kendrick takes me into his arms as soon as I’m within reach, and I take a deep breath. Given all the time and energy I’ve given to worrying and struggling since my grandfather died, I feel like I can finally take a breath and know that everything is going to be good now.