Chapter 14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
It wasn’t a W they put on the board, but a big messy L.
As usual, there was more than one bad play that contributed, but James’ fumble and shanked punt hadn’t helped. Garrett kept his mouth closed about it. They were on the same team and even though it might give him a chance to play, gloating wasn’t cool. James glared at him as if it was his fault and had given Hulme shit, claiming the snap was bad.
By the time Garrett had driven back to his hotel room, all he wanted to do was crash for a few hours. At least the plane trip had been quiet, with everybody wrapped up in their own moody thoughts.
Housekeeping had been in while he was away. They only came in on a Saturday when he wasn’t there. The bed was freshly made and there was a box sitting on the end.
He dropped his bag on the floor and picked up the box intending to move it to the table and ignore it until the morning. But he stopped. Written on the top of the box was his room number and surname. Only two people knew his room number and one of them was him. The other one was Chester.
Was Chester returning his T-shirt?
It was too heavy for that.
He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and sliced open the tape, not sure if it was excitement or dread tumbling in his gut. Maybe both.
He lifted the card out of the top of the box. On the front was a unicorn prancing over a glittery rainbow that spelled out Congratulations. He opened the card.
Congratulations on coming out. I hope you’re less stressed.
Enjoy the non-alcoholic drink on me.
You probably won’t eat the chocolate, but I can next time I’m around.
XX
C
Caitlin knowing was a different stress, but it was a little less jagged and toxic, which was an improvement. He pulled the bottle of non-alcoholic gin out next. That was why the box weighed so much.
There was a packet of chocolates and some much healthier protein balls.
Very funny. He was totally eating the chocolates.
At the bottom of the box was some black fabric. He pulled it out and gave it a shake. It was a Bathtub and Blossoms T-shirt. The logo had a rainbow splash behind it. There was a note stuck on the front.
Baby’s first pride T-shirt.
Garrett held the T-shirt to his chest and closed his eyes.
Chester had gotten him a coming out present, and all he done was tell Caitlin. It wasn’t worth the fuss, and yet it was the nicest thing anyone had done for him in about a decade.
He was not going to cry about it.
Nope.
Chester was probably asleep, but he texted anyway.
I’m home. Thank you for the present. You didn’t need to.
I wanted to.
He stared at the message. He hadn’t expected Chester to reply. Now he needed to say something.
It means a lot.
He didn’t know how to write how much it meant. That was a whole essay. He sniffed and blinked as the screen blurred. And he didn’t want to have this conversation tonight, because right now he’d fall apart.
You can show me in person. Free tomorrow evening?
Three times was a thing, wasn’t it?
He didn’t know what the rules were, or if there were rules. He’d kinda missed the whole dating in high school and college experience.
I’ll text you when I finish training.
Chester replied with a heart.
Garrett made sure his alarm was set, put his phone on charge and collapsed into bed, holding the T-shirt.
There was nothing more fun than reviewing a losing game play-by-play. Had Caitlin spoken to the coaches about him? Did they know? It wasn’t something he could ask, so he kept his mouth shut. James gave him dark looks, as though Garrett was responsible for everything.
Young leaned over and held his phone out to Garrett. “This is the moment a part of your soul died.”
A cameraman had been smart enough to have the lens on Garrett during James’s punts, which meant he’d captured Garrett’s mostly internal groan on the fumble and subsequent fuck up. The way he closed his eyes and tilted his head, it was clear what he was thinking.
He skimmed over the short comment: Punter Stevens rolls his eyes as James fails to get the ball away cleanly.
Garrett sighed. He wasn’t even rolling his eyes. He’d been groaning because they were losing ground and points for no good reason. That and he was sitting on his ass instead of being part of it.
“That’s not what I was thinking.”
“It gets worse if you read the rest of the article. Apparently, internal conflict is causing the problems.”
And he was the problem… Fuck, they didn’t know half of it. How many of the guys in the room would have a problem? Sure, this was easily the least homophobic group of footballers he’d ever been around… on the surface, anyway. Coming out would only add fuel to the internal conflict story, but he was certain Caitlin was already all over that.
Perhaps she’d left talking to the coaches until after the game, not wanting to add a distraction.
The atmosphere in the video room was grim as the coaches picked out the key failures. Then they broke off into smaller groups for a more detailed review of their failures.
He sat in the special teams meeting, watching the detailed review of every kick, every punt, and every return. And even though he hadn’t been a part of the game, it still felt pretty shit, even though it was the only way to improve. He much preferred picking apart other teams’ plays to find their weaknesses. They would do the same to them, which is why this mattered.
“I want to give Stevens some more practice time,” Coach Ross said.
Garrett froze like a startled rabbit. That meant more time to show them what he could do. To get better at reading Hulme, accepting his snaps and holding the ball for the kicker.
James glared at him and muttered. “You’re not taking my place.”
If there was conflict in the team, it was coming from one place, and that place wasn’t Garrett.
James had been unlucky, and if they’d won, it wouldn’t have mattered so much—though it still would have been dissected. If James had been having a better year, it might not have been such a big deal. But an injury last year and weaker stats this year… Yeah, the Troopers would have been looking for a replacement at the end of the season, anyway. Instead, they’d jumped on the trade and taken a chance on him. That should be reassuring, but it wasn’t.
James had been doing this for ten years, and while punters weren’t making quarterback money, they made bank. Instead of ending on a high, James seemed determined to go down badly, even though he should be able to retire and never work again. Surely the coaches had talked to him?
Or did James think he could do this for another couple of years for a chance at a ring?
If that was what he wanted, he was punting for the wrong team, because the Troopers weren’t in the running. They probably wouldn’t be next year either. It took time to put together a team that good. To have players with enough experience to get there, and not only that, they needed to have enough time working together to be able to tell from a twitch what was coming.
So not next season, but maybe the one after? That would be the last year of Garrett’s contract, after which everything would be up in the air.
More up in the air.
He needed to make it to the end of this season, and then through the training camps next year, and then, and then, and then…
There was no such thing as my place. A position was always up for grabs to the hungrier, cheaper player. In this case, it was him, and he had less than a week to prove that he deserved the chance to play the next game.
It was also a game they had no chance of winning, which might be reason enough for Ross to give Garrett a shot. He didn’t care if it was in the middle of a hurricane and snowing, he would step out and play his very best if given the chance.