Chapter 15 #2
Food from Agnes? Running away for a work function overnight? Jesus, this was really happening, wasn’t it? Secret or not, he and Leslie were dating. And Joe didn’t feel the urge to run.
Wait.
He did a mental inventory.
Nope, he wasn’t anxious about it at all. Could it be that he was ready to stop running? Could he really settle down with a wonderful man like Leslie?
Joe swayed on his feet. He couldn’t tell if it was the hard work and sun and lack of food or if it was the thought of settling down that had him shaky.
He went over to pick up the cooler and when he stood up his vision went fuzzy and he got a little lightheaded.
He was able to get inside his apartment and set things down.
He poured himself a huge glass of water and ate his delicious salad standing up at the counter.
His mouth had found true bliss. Agnes Payton was a genius and it was obvious the food had been prepared with love.
He just knew it, from everything Leslie had told him about his mother, Agnes was the kind of mom Joe had always dreamed of.
He desperately wanted to meet her, and was terrified at the same time.
What if she didn’t approve? What if he was his usual asshole self and she didn’t think he was good enough for her son?
Joe took a quick shower and he fell into bed still wet and wrapped in a towel. He needed a good night’s sleep if he was going to torture the footballers tomorrow.
That thought made him smile and he dreamed sinister dreams…
Joe and Terrell drove together to the high school and on the way, Joe ran through his plans. Terrell remained quiet.
“So what do you think?” he finally asked Terrell. “You’re awfully quiet over there.”
Terrell crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. He got that scowl from his dad. It used to intimidate Joe a bit back in their Greenvale days until he realized it was genetic, not an indicator of his mood.
“I think…this is going to suck.”
Joe pulled the Bronco into a parking spot and turned off the car. He turned to face Terrell.
“Tell me.”
Terrell sighed. “I thought it would be different, you know, coming here and no one knows I played football, there would be no expectations. Already some of the guys in the dorm are hassling me for not coming out for the team, saying I’m not man enough to play for Coach Payton. I know it’s bullshit—”
“It is bullshit. Just wait until we’re done with them today. They’ll be singing an entirely different tune.” Joe held out a hand and Terrell hesitated a minute before he slapped and shook it.
“All right then,” he said.
By the time the players began filing into the high school gym, Joe and Terrell were properly warmed up and ready to do battle.
He’d texted Leslie to remind his players to bring water and dress in clothes they could move in, preferably not super baggy.
It was important that Joe be able to see their form and whether or not they were performing the techniques correctly to avoid injury.
The kids came in mostly quiet and looking as if they were headed in to see the dentist or get vaccines. None of them looked comfortable. Only a few gave off attitude and had that cocky vibe about them. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad?
One of them bumped shoulders with Terrell and made an exaggerated apology. That kid was going to earn Joe’s wrath if he put one more toe out of line.
Terrell stood against the wall with that Simmons Scowl and Joe nodded at him.
Randy and Sandy came in behind them and one of the boys asked, “Coach? You providing ballet slippers?”
His friend snorted. “Or maybe a tutu?”
Right. You asked for it.
“Good afternoon. I’m Coach Judd and this is my assistant, Terrell. Enough with the niceties. Spread out in straight lines with your arms out to your sides. Be sure there’s at least a foot between your fingertips.”
While the kids continued to grumble, Joe walked through the lines to where Randy and Sandy were standing at the back.
“I’d like for you two to stand on either side and monitor. If any of the players are struggling, give me a nod. If any are fucking around, shake your head. I will deal with any misbehavior. Is that understood?”
The twins pressed their lips together and tried to pull their faces into solemn expressions but Joe could tell they were delighted to see him at work. They probably thought he couldn’t handle these kids. They had no idea how much experience Joe had with men just like these.
“I’m going to be instructing you to do things your bodies are not used to doing—”
“Cuz I’m not gay,” one of the boys muttered. Shame for him Joe had been standing close when he said it.
“Do I need to remind everyone in this room about the tolerance policy of the school? Hmm? Do I also need to remind you that some of your straightest football heroes have taken ballet to supplement their training for football? Or remind you that one in ten people is on the queer spectrum, so that means some of you in here, definitely players you’ve stood next to, people you’ve admired and respected?
This is such a tired argument. I’d love just once for a puffed-up jock to be honest and say, ‘you know, I’m afraid of trying something new, but I’m here and I’ll do my best.’ I’d have a helluva lot more respect for that than for someone who thinks calling something gay is an insult.
Please. If you have a question, ask it. If you want to laugh because it feels funny, go for it—”
“And,” Randy said, stepping forward to address the crowd. “If you want to make homophobic comments, you can leave right now and say goodbye to playing football at Greenvale College. Coach Payton’s rules. Any questions? No? Then I suggest you focus.”
Joe appreciated that Leslie had that rule, but he had this under control.
“I’m going to ask you to all take your shoes and socks off for the first part. I ran a disinfectant over the floor when I got here. The warmups we’re going to be doing will require careful articulation of all of the bones in your feet and it will also help you with balance.”
The kids mumbled a bit as they removed their shoes and put them on the sides of the gym and then they lined back up.
“All right. Let’s do this.”
Joe led them through a series of thorough stretches.
A few of the players chuckled and more groaned at the unfamiliar muscles.
Terrell stood with his back to the crowd so they could see both views.
He was bigger than quite a few of the players, and Joe knew he was fast, agile, and flexible.
A few of the players whispered and pointed, obviously curious about him.
“Okay, have any of you ever heard of barre classes?”
A couple of hands went up.
“Good. Barre is low-impact, high-intensity work aimed at increasing your muscle endurance, improving posture and balance, and it is guaranteed to make you want to cry.” Joe turned on the music, a mixture of old and new dance tunes that had a few of the kids bopping their heads.
“Is barre like ballet stuff?” one of the boys asked.
“Barre incorporates ballet technique, yes.”
“Man,” the kid said. “My mom made me take ballet for a while. That barre shit is hard. ”
Joe smiled. “It is, but it’s good for you. And hey, at least you’re not out in that fun Iowa afternoon heat, am I right?”
An hour later, the players were all sprawled out on the floor panting, crying, sipping water, and sweating. They probably wished they were out in the Iowa heat right about now.
Joe waved to Terrell to join him and they walked over to Randy and Sandy. “Have they had enough?” he asked, nowhere near ready to stop.
Randy cupped himself. “I don’t know, man, but I’m in pain just watching.”
Terrell laughed and then covered his mouth. Randy assured him it was okay.
Sandy shuddered. “When you guys did that plié thingie and bounced like that forever? Damn.”
Joe smiled. “The first time I took a barre class I thought I’d died. I couldn’t walk right for a few days, and I had been dancing for years already.” He looked around. “If you think they can take it, I had a few more things planned.”
Randy and Sandy grinned at each other and Randy gestured to the kids. “Be my guest. If they’re still breathing, they can keep going.”
Joe looked to Terrell who had broken a sweat but shrugged. “I’m just getting started.”
Joe clapped him on the shoulder. “I love that attitude.”
Terrell blew out a breath. “Or I just know better than to say I’ve had enough. You do know who my mom is.”
“Point taken,” Joe said, then he addressed the group.
“Okay, break’s over—”
“Coach Judd? You or your assistant ever play sports?”
Joe’s throat tightened and he tried to swallow around it. “Not me. I wasn’t exactly interested in extracurricular activities that required me to stay out of trouble and get good grades,” Joe answered. He raised his eyebrows at Terrell, who sighed.
“Yeah. I played football.”
The room got quiet.
“But…you’re a dancer.”
“Right. And I made that decision after trying to fit in and gain respect by playing varsity football all four years. I was a tight end, held my high school’s record for receiving over and above the receivers.
I was also out, which made me a target on the field and off.
After one too many hits—on the field and off—I said fu…
screw it. It wasn’t worth it. No matter how hard I worked, I never had the support of my teammates. ”
“That’s bullshit.” A few of the players shared that sentiment. Others looked at the floor.
“Well, it’s the truth. For a lot of folks,” Joe said.
“I’ve had my share of people assume things about me because I’m a dancer, who happens to be gay.
” He looked around, challenging any of them to even have a ghost of a smirk.
“I hope none of you ever have to experience the feeling that your friends, teammates, or coaches don’t have your back.
And I hope no one in this room ever does the deserting. ”