5. Ethan
5
ETHAN
Practice is finally over for the day. It’s been almost a month since I arrived for spring training, and my muscles aren’t screaming at me every afternoon, so I’d like to think that I’m getting the hang of things. I wipe sweat off my face with an icy towel and head to a table where a team intern is unloading a bunch of cups. Without a second thought, I grab one of the bright, neon-colored drinks and chug.
The team clears the table in seconds and James heads out. Right as I’m about to follow him, I see Will eying all of us like we’re crazy.
“Did you all drink these?” he asks.
We all gesture at our empty cups.
“You know those things are loaded with caffeine, right? I go to the bathroom for one minute and you guys end up drinking what’s basically an energy drink.”
I check my watch, and it’s already six. Normally, I’m a one-coffee-a-day guy, so this is way too late to have caffeine. Oops.
As the team devolves into chaos, Will walks up to me. “Yo, Ethan,” he says. “If I were you, I’d take an allergy pill from the welcome kit before bed, it’ll cancel out the caffeine.”
I offer a polite smile and turn away. Tomorrow is gonna suck because there’s no way I’m getting much sleep tonight.
I stare up, tracking the flashes of light from passing headlights as they move across the ceiling in an almost predictable pattern. It’s past midnight and I’m still wired. That allergy pill was completely useless. I drag myself out of bed to grab another one, and as I’m about to take it, my phone buzzes. It’s James.
JAMES HERNANDEZ
Yo u up
Lmao
Can’t sleep
Yeah same here
Drinks were full of caffeine
Lol that’s why I’m restless ig
Wanna hang for a bit
That’s tempting. It’s late, but I’m wide awake anyway.
I’m down. Come to mine
607
Bet omw
James arrives a few minutes later with a six-pack of beers in one hand. He’s in a soft-looking hoodie and sweatpants, and, as always, he looks great.
But it is what it is. He’s attractive, sure, with his tousled hair and dazzling smile, but I’ve been through this before. Plenty of my teammates in the past were attractive, and I know how to not fall for them: keep things friendly and professional, remind myself that he’s straight , and before long, I won’t be able to see James as anything more than a friend. Still, it’s hard not to notice the way his clothes cling to his body or the way his laugh makes me light up inside.
“Figured we could use something to take the edge off,” he says, pointing at the six-pack.
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
James tosses me a beer and flops down on my spare bed. The can is cold in my hand, and I crack it open to take a long sip. Almost instantly, the caffeinated buzz that’s running through my brain begins to soften.
“So,” I say, trying to keep the conversation light, “you’re Canadian, right?”
James nods. “Yeah, I grew up in Toronto. It’s an amazing city. My parents weren’t around a lot after I started high school, but they always tried their best to make time for me.”
I nod, taking another sip of my beer. “Small town kid myself. Born and raised in Machias, Maine. You’ve probably never heard of it.”
“Maine? Sounds chill,” he says, his tone genuinely interested.
“It is,” I reply. “Went to Vermont for college, then moved to Portland to play in the minors.”
“And now you’re with Boston, big New England man,” James says, grinning.
I smile back. “Something like that.”
“What’d you study in Vermont?”
Shifting slightly, I adjust myself to face James. “I majored in Economics?—”
James’s face lights up. “No way, I did, too! We’re basically the same person.”
“Except for the fact that you’re Canadian, a pitcher, and ambidextrous, and I’m none of those.”
Waving his hand dismissively, James rolls his eyes. “Those are like, three things. They mean nothing. We’re the same person.”
I snort, and I can’t seem to find a way to reply. There’s a comfortable silence for a moment, the AC humming in the background.
“So, how’d you get started with baseball?” James asks.
“Well, baseball’s always been a thing for me,” I start, taking another sip of my beer. “Started playing when I was five, and I stuck with it. Got lucky with a few good seasons, and the next thing I know, I’m playing in Vermont, then Portland. And now I’m here.” Setting my empty beer down, I prompt James to give his backstory.
“It was kinda the same for me. My parents put me in hockey at first because that’s basically the default option, but I totally sucked at it. One day, I held my stick like a baseball bat, my parents registered me for baseball camp, and the rest is history. Now I’m here just trying to make a name for myself.”
“So your parents got you all the gear for hockey, just for you to become a baseball player?”
“Oh yeah. My dad got a little annoyed after having to shell out for a second sport, but my mom came to the rescue.” He trails off, seemingly uncomfortable. “My family isn’t rich or anything. They’re comfortable.”
The way he rushed to say that his family isn’t rich pretty much confirms that they actually are. That doesn’t change my opinion of him, though. He’s not flashy or obnoxious about it, and that’s all anyone can ask for.
James looks away, collecting his thoughts. He leans toward me, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“So, what’s the deal with your love life? Are you gonna bring anyone special to Boston?”
“Woah, where’d that come from?” I ask, his question catching me off guard. It’s the first time someone’s asked so directly.
“I don’t know, I’m just curious.”
“Nothing to report there,” I say, not giving anything away.
“Nothing at all? Are you actually letting your pretty face go to waste?”
I laugh at James’s joke, weighing whether to share more. If I was anyone else, now would be a convenient time to say I’m gay. James seems like he’d be fine with it, but I have a lot to prove before I can think about revealing that side of me to the team. Back in college, everyone more or less knew, and I didn’t have to come out. Hopefully, I can work toward that here, but it’ll be a while before that happens.
“Nope, nothing,” I say. “It doesn’t help that I’m hyper-independent, almost to a fault.”
James doesn’t push further. Instead, he pivots. “I get it. Our schedule isn’t exactly friendly to relationships. Away games make it tough to find anything serious.”
“Yeah, I hear you. It’s all part of the deal.”
James laughs. “Sure, but I probably won’t be playing the field too much once the season starts.”
After a brief pause, he leans back and stares at the ceiling. “Speaking of that, I feel like I need to clear up some stuff,” he starts. “I know everyone here makes me out to be a wild fuckboy who’s hell-bent on laying pipe wherever I walk, but that isn’t who I am. That whole rumor started because I left a restaurant with four girls. They were beyond wasted, so I called them cabs to get them home safely. That’s it.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Yeah,” James says with a shrug. “Not much of a story there, but that’s how it went down.”
Glancing at James, I try to gauge how much the rumors bother him. The neutral expression on his face tells me that he’s playing it cool, but there’s something in the way his shoulders are stiff, like he’s forcing himself to hold back.
“That sounds rough,” I offer. “I’ve never dealt with a rumor like that, but I get why you’d feel uncomfortable.”
He leans back on the bed and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It’s kinda ridiculous, but once people get an idea in their heads, it sticks. Now people assume I’m trying to hook up with half the room whenever I’m out.”
I finish my beer and toss the empty can into the trash. “Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re like that. You’ve been real with me from the start.”
James gives me a tired smile, his warm brown eyes meeting my tired gaze. “Thanks, Ethan. That means a lot.”
I stretch out to kick him. “Don’t get used to this. I’m only being nice for once.”
He chuckles, and I realize I like making him laugh way more than I should. The conversation tapers off into a calm silence, and James lies down and stretches out, yawning. “You mind if I crash here tonight?” he asks. “I’m about to pass out.”
“Of course.” I gesture to the bed he’s already lying on.
James smiles, looking relieved. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”
He loosens the blanket from the bed and curls up, making himself at home. I’ve shared rooms with teammates before, but I felt neutral. This time, it’s nice to have company. I haven’t had a teammate I’ve connected with like this in ages, if ever. James makes me laugh, backs me up, and doesn’t make things weird when I’m quiet. It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted in a friend and teammate.
And that’s the problem.
Every time he does something thoughtful or flashes me a kind, casual smile, it chips away at me. I can’t start seeing him as anything more. He’s straight, and I’d only be setting myself up for disaster. I’d risk screwing up the one solid friendship I’ve got.
As I lie there half awake, I remind myself of the rule I’ve set: don’t get attached. Sure, James is a cool guy, but there’s nothing more to it. There can’t be. He’s straight. Just focus on baseball and on building a solid friendship.
I turn off the lights, and before long, I drift off to the sound of James’s even breathing.