Chapter 22 Cory
Boys. You still awake?
Sam
Ahoy, captain oh, captain. What’s up.
Lucas
Awake but don’t want to be.
I know it’s late, but can I interest either of you in a beer.
Sam
O’Reilly’s?
I’m home with Billie, can you come here? Need some advice.
Lucas
Who’s Billie?
My baby niece
Sam
Wait. Whoa. Wait. You’re asking us for advice, to come to your house and you have a niece? Who the fuck is this and what have you done to Cubby?
Haha smartass. Can you come or not? I have beer and nachos.
Sam
And a baby. Be there in 10
Lucas
Dude, nachos. Make it 5
Not five, but thirty minutes later, I’ve confirmed that yes, O’Reilly’s wasn’t a prank.
I do indeed wear glasses whenever I’m not with the team, Lucas is neck deep in a pile of cheesy corn chips, and Sam has Billie, who I hadn’t been able to settle after her last bottle, bouncing happily on his hip.
Slightly pissed that the kid whose umbilical cord I cut prefers a perfect stranger to me, I scowl and shove a quac-covered chip in my mouth.
“Your screen door’s broken? Why don’t you fix it?”
“Why are you so good with babies?” I counter, more comfortable with deflecting than answering with, I tried but it needs to be replaced, and we can’t afford a new one.
With a nonchalant shoulder shrug he swipes a chip, chews and then replies, “I don’t have any siblings, and there’s no babies in the family, so it’s not that. Must just be my natural charm.”
“I have one sister. Shit,” Lucas slaps his thigh, “a brother, I mean. Riley was assigned female at birth, but came out as trans last year and has just transitioned. I guess I’m still getting used to it.
” Coyly, he watches us for reaction, fingers digging into the arm of the sofa like he’s waiting for a fight.
To ease his nerves, I plop next to him and nudge his arm.
“He probably is, too.”
“Yeah. It’s been hard for him. Some of his friends have been dicks, but he has two friends that have been cool.”
Butterflies with wings of lead swarm in my gut. The gay thing suddenly seems an easier mountain to climb than the friend thing. “Can I count on that, too? Having two cool friends?”
Lucas’s mouth falls open. “You’re trans, too? Shit I thought you were just going to tell us you fucked Plum.”
“I’m not trans, dick. I’m gay. And I didn’t fuck James, either … I mean I kind of did but—”
“I fucking knew it! You look at him as though it’s pitch black, and he’s a light switch you’re busting to turn on.
” Dancing eyebrows Sam is so excited, for a second I think he’s about to toss my niece in the air, but he settles for a fist pump and light jig that has Billie giggling.
Never laughs like that for me, the freaking traitor. “Hand it over, Lucas.”
Groaning, Lucas fishes a twenty from his pocket and slaps it in Sam’s palms.
“You guys were betting on me? Is it really that obvious?”
“Dude, no offense, but last year, off the ice I could have forgotten you existed.”
“Wow, Sam. How could I possibly be offended by that?”
“Wait. You didn’t let me finish,” he says, biting back laughter.
“So yeah, once I remembered you were on the team, I thought you were an uptight ass … wait … and then magically when Plum shows up, voila! You were like a peacock finally letting those gay as fuck tail-feathers fly. It’s beautiful, Bro. ”
Lucas buries his shaking head in his hands. “I think what the idiot is trying to say is you’ve come out of your shell since James arrived, and that the way you want to bone him is totally obvious. Can’t say I agree with all of it, since I wasn’t here, but yeah, I think that’s the point.”
“A hundred percent my point.” Sam nods. “And we’re absolutely your friends. As such, we should celebrate. Who’s up for O’Reilly’s?” I point towards the baby currently sucking on one of his black ringlets, eyes finally falling closed. “Oh, yeah.”
As quietly as I can, I slide from the sofa, take Billie from Sam’s arms and head upstairs. “Besides, there’s more I need to talk to you about. James has shoved me into the friend zone, so there’s that, and then Trent.”
“Ugh, I hate that guy,” Sam whispers.
“Me too. Let me put this little gal to bed and I’ll make you hate him even more.”
When I make it back to the lounge, the nacho plate is empty, Sam has found and cracked open two beers, and Lucas is curled up on the sofa, snuggled beneath a blanket, lost deeper to sleep than the baby upstairs.
“Poor little guy was tuckered out. Beer?” Sam holds the bottle out to me then nods to the empty space beside him. “You feeling better?” he asks when I take the beer, and drop onto the cushions.
“When was I … worse?”
“You looked like you were going to puke when me and the Sandman came in.”
“Yeah well. Confirming friendship then coming out is a lot for an introvert like me.”
For some reason, that provokes a hefty snort.
“Dude, I dunno if you know this about me, but I’m kind of popular.
That means I know, and have to deal with a shit ton of people.
And in my experience I can assure you that you, my friend, are awkward as fuck, definitely an over thinker and anxious. But an introvert, no way.”
I take a sip of my beer. “You’re just full of compliments tonight, aren’t you?”
“I live to give.” Mirroring me, he takes a sip from his, then another, and I think that might be it. But no. “You like people. Maybe even need them, and leading the team energizes you. You’re an extrovert. Just a shy one.”
“Aren’t those things mutually exclusive?”
“Nope. A true introvert is mostly okay being alone. You seem to hate it, and do it more out of anxiety than anything.” I narrow my eyes.
“When did you become such a people expert?”
“Told ya. I’m a big deal. I also take psychology. Analyzing people is my jam.”
“Okay then, Mr. Expert.” Nudging his arm, I sit up a little straighter. “Analyze this. A certain spoiled brat team mate—”
“Trent.”
“Trent.” I nod. “Knows I’m gay, and seems to be set on outing me. Do I tell Coach? Handle it with my fists? Or beat him to the punch and tell the team?”
Sam downs the rest of his beer in one go, then leans to place it on the coffee table. “Cubs, you won’t even wear your glasses in front of the team. Are you comfortable with coming out?”
“If you’d have asked me that a month ago, I would have said no, but something’s changed.”
“Would that something be a certain Bear with a surname that rhymes with bum?”
“Maybe. I’ve been a bit of a slut this summer and it’s been so great.
I thought that was what I wanted, you know?
Casual hook-ups to figure out what I liked.
But now I’m not so sure. Hypothetically, if I did meet someone I was really into, if his name perhaps did rhyme with bum, I’d want them to watch me play, and come out to O’Reilly’s after a win.
I’d want to hold their hand and kiss them without looking over my shoulder. I don’t want to hide who I am.”
Unexpectedly, I’m pulled into a full man-hug, back slaps, noogies and spilled beer included. “Then I say it’s time to cue Diana Ross, Cubby, ’cause baby, you’re coming out.”
A smile I couldn’t stop if I tried, spreads as I picture everything I just expressed happening with James. And maybe a little bit because of fucking over Trent.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”
“May as well go the whole hog.”
An off-key chorus of Pink Pony Club, the team’s latest pump-up song, bounces off the walls as I linger outside the locker room.
On a normal day I would have been the first inside, already having showered and changed before anyone else arrived.
Today’s tardiness is deliberate … and a tiny bit the consequence of freaking the fuck out in the parking lot, and once as I stormed Coach’s office to alert him of my plans.
“Do you want me to act surprised?” he asked when I told him. “Or shocked? Because as you may recall, my daughter is in a poly-amorous relationship with two bisexual men. Nothing shocks me anymore.”
It was a slight come down, but hopefully the team will give me a bit of the fuss I’m lowkey craving.
If the gay thing doesn’t do it, I’m also wearing my glasses, my hair is in its natural floppy form, and Cherry, who was way too excited by this, forced me into wearing my Sweat tour t-shirt too. Give them a little visual aid, she whispered.
Like Chappel is doing for the boys, I take a fortifying breath, give myself one last pep talk, and take a step towards my destiny.
“You’re wearing your glasses.” Foot mid-air, I pause. My favorite gruff and grumbly voice now all I hear. “Forget to refill your prescription again?”
“James.” I squeak. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here, remember?” He looks me up and down. “What are you doing here? And by here and you, I mean why are you dressed as you while being here?”
It takes a minute to process that, because James is leaning against the wall beside me, but when I do, my chest puffs with pride. “I know it’s lame and no big deal, but I’m being me. The real me. Glasses, gay and geek.”
“It is a big deal. You look good. I’d almost say life raft worthy.” A rare, breathtakingly beautiful smile lights his face, before he glances over his shoulder, then hooks his little finger around mine.
HE’S HOLDING MY FUCKING PINKIE.
It’s fleeting. Over before I can pull out my phone and capture it, but even if nothing physical ever happens again between James and I, this is a touch, a moment, I will never forget.
“Good luck, Kid.”
“Thanks, Jamie.”