Futbolista

Chapter 18 #2

“Solid try,” I tell the guy as he jogs away, his head to the ground.

I don’t expect to make a friend here, just being sportsmanlike.

When he doesn’t say anything back or give me a wave of acknowledgment, I don’t think much of it.

This is more for me anyway. Being nice helps filter out the remaining parts of me that are still bothered.

I leave him be and ready a volley, barely catching him out of the corner of my eye as he turns around and steps toward me.

“Pinche joto.”

A keeper with less balance and less cool would’ve tripped over his feet.

Instead, I pause midair, bring the ball and my leg back down, hearing all my teammates, who were ready and waiting for me to get us back into play, asking what’s going on, and ignore them as I stare straight at this puto, making sure I heard him right. “What the fuck did you say?”

“Me escuchas. ?Eres un joto, no? That’s not your boyfriend over there with your jacket on? The one I saw you walking in with before the game. El maric ó n.”

Nah. Hell nah. I’m able to control myself enough to not put him on the ground right now but I do fully get up on him, chest to chest. I don’t care if he’s got a couple inches on me.

And all the ways I wanted to show Barrera how he should keep his mouth shut, I can fully show this guy.

“You say one more word about him, I’m kicking your ass right here and all the way back to Laredo. ”

He laughs, his smile all cocky. “Damn. You are a culero, huh? Protecting your jotito. Or you just get what you need from him? One of those that loves getting passed around by athletes? Let me take a turn; see how he compares to my girl.”

Before I can think, I’m dropping the ball and pushing him. All my frustration’s overflowing now, and I can’t bring myself to let this slide. I watch him stumble a bit, but stay up, and then rush at me. “Come on then, culero.”

“You motherfu—”

“Gabo.” I hear P é rez’s voice a second before I feel him grabbing me at my chest, and bringing me back, both of us falling on the grass.

And then more voices. This guy’s teammates are pulling him back and some of my teammates look like they’re trying to hold Nguyen and Ahmed back, both of them yelling at the guy who was talking shit.

The ref is whistling nonstop. But, above it all, I hear that fucking Laredo player’s voice.

“ Culero . They know too?” And if it wasn’t for P é rez putting all his weight purposefully on me, not listening to me tell him, “Let me go,” I’d already be up and clocking him.

“I know it sucks,” he says, bringing his mouth close to my ear and talking only loud enough for me to hear.

“I know you hate letting him have this. But doing nothing is the best thing you can do, Gabo. Trust me. Don’t get flagged for some little bitch who doesn’t matter.

Don’t throw away your shutout because you want to get one punch in.

Not in front of your parents, papi. And Vale wouldn’t want that for you. ”

I’m breathing hard, almost in huffs, clenching my whole face.

Because I want to hit this guy. I could fucking cry with how much I want to kick his ass all the way back to Laredo.

But Pérez is right. I’ve got to be the guy who does nothing.

For the second time this game, all before we’ve hit halftime, I’m losing.

Not at football but at standing up for myself and for someone I care about.

And when I get back up, I’ve got to pretend I was just overreacting about something he said that isn’t true. I was just in a bad mood already.

Because that gets me some kind of win. Everyone walks away, Barrera gives me a glare like he’s holding in a lot of words he’d like to tell me right now, Coach convinces the ref not to bench me—but that dick also gets off without so much as a warning—and I get to keep playing.

I get to finish out the first half, and then be back for the second.

And when we win 1–0, I can leave with that win.

I can leave with our perfect record and more minutes added to my own.

I fake a smile as teammates laugh about calling me El Toro now instead of El Chivo because “Man was ready to charge at that guy, you see it?” I’ve got Mom checking my face to make sure I didn’t get hit, all, “ What is this? Did you get hurt here?” holding my face tight in her hands until I convince her it’s just some dirt from being on the ground; and Pops staring at me like he’s trying to read intention; and me doing my best to keep that far away from the front of my mind.

I walk off the field still being one of the most promising college players the NCAA has to offer while actively ignoring Vale as he leaves with Kat, knowing that Barrera’s watching every move I make right now.

But I get to keep playing. I get to keep being great. Just like I wanted.

And that has to be worth it.

A few soft taps on the other side of my door are followed by the sound of it opening slowly and Vale’s voice asking, “Is it okay if I come in?”

I lift my head up from my pillow, my eyes going from the ceiling to his face. To all of him standing a few feet from my bed, my jacket in his hands. And, more than anything, I don’t want him to go.

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “Stay.”

He closes the door and walks slowly over to my bed, taking a seat, nearly touching my side. And then he studies me. I let him look at my eyes, my mouth, my torso, and arms that’re still carrying some tension.

“Orlando—P é rez—told me and Kat what happened. How that guy was saying some really homophobic shit at you, and I … I can give this back to you if you want.” He holds my jacket out between us, waiting for me to take it.

“I don’t want you getting yourself into trouble for me.

Because of me. You didn’t ask for that.”

“No,” I say, careful to make sure none of the negative feelings I’ve had today come out with it, but still wanting to sound sure about this. “I told you to hold on to it. And I haven’t changed my mind. I’m not … they don’t get to have that.”

They already get too much from me. Of me. They already get to take too much away. Realizing that has made this game, being a player, so much more stressful. But Vale wearing that jacket? That sight takes away stress. I’m not giving it up.

“And when someone else tries to fight you about it? When you’ve got to fight someone else’s battles because they think something about you that’s not true?”

“What—” What if it is true? I almost say. Instead, I swallow the question down. Saying those words makes them even more true. Something I can’t take back. “Then I be better than them.”

His shoulders rise and fall with a sigh, and he brings the jacket back close to his chest, holding it tight. “I’m sorry that happened. I’m sorry you had to defend me.”

“Probably better me than you,” I say, a half smile slowly forming. “Pretty sure P é rez wouldn’t have been able to keep you from kicking his ass.”

“Oh, he would’ve left with at least a black eye and a bloody lip,” Vale replies, smiling back at me.

I can see his own tension leaving his body.

And, slowly, I start relaxing too. We’re going to be okay.

“If you still want to go get tacos, I don’t have anything else going on for the rest of the day. ”

“Mind if we wait a while? I … I just want to stay here for a little bit longer.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“You can lie down too,” I tell him, not giving myself a chance to think about this. To consider what happens if one of my roommates walks in right now. I’m so tired of thinking about everyone else today. “If you want.”

He gives me a nod and almost cautiously starts to lie down next to me, scooting toward me so there’s maybe half a foot of space in between us, where his hand falls.

I turn to face him, catching those soft, pretty brown eyes of his like he was waiting for me.

And we just look, without saying anything.

For a few seconds, half a minute, a minute, two, three.

And then my eyes refuse to stay open any longer.

When I wake up, I’m spooning Vale, an arm wrapped around him, holding him close.

My whole body can feel him breathing softly, the way his body rises and falls.

He’s got a hand over mine that’s resting on his stomach.

And, as I get more conscious, I try not to think about my dick pressing on his ass.

I pick my head up slowly, and only enough to see that it’s still daylight outside my window. We couldn’t have been asleep for too long.

And as I carefully turn on my back, all I can think is, again, Kat really broke me .

As I immediately miss the feeling of cuddling Vale, of his hand holding mine, I know I’m broken.

And the thing about breaking is that I’ve gotten a glimpse of what’s inside.

Of all that “not normal” I’m so scared of being.

And it looks nice.

It looks like me playing football with Vale and him asleep cuddled up to me and me getting to be so openly happy about him sitting up front at my games and getting to kiss him right before I rush off to the pitch and maybe even give him an ass smack for good luck.

It looks like being unchained. Like I’ve started walking toward the light, but I can still hear the voices of those other prisoners—of that guy I almost fought, of Barrera, of my Pops, of the dads I’ve known who would rather throw their sons out than embrace them—telling me to come back.

That in the cave is where I belong. It’s the only place to get what I want.

I’m stuck between finding out what it really feels like to see the sun and staying in the place I’ve, up till now, been so comfortable living in.

The sound of Vale letting out a whine as he stretches brings me back, and I watch as he sits up, giving me a tired smile. “You have a good nap?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah. I could go for a taco now, though, if you’re hungry,” he says, looking down at me.

I chuckle, nodding. “Sure. Let’s go get tacos.”

“Oh, but I did mean to ask you something. And it … I don’t know if it’d be weird now with everything that happened today, or—”

When he goes quiet, a lot of me worries he’s going to ask me the same question Kat did. If he’s caught on to all my glances too. If I might have to finally say those words out loud for the first time.

But I want to seem unassuming. So I say, as confident as possible, “D í game. What is it?”

“I—were you planning on going to the Eta Tau ABC party?”

Oh shit, thank Pel é . I try to keep my relieved sigh quiet as I tell him, “I hadn’t put a lot of thought into it.

I think the guys were saying they wanted to, though.

We’ve got a Friday game, but the rest of our weekend’s going to be free.

Actually, yeah. I specifically remember P é rez saying that he wants to be on his perra behavior and get into some pendejadas. ”

“Even though it’s Leana’s sorority?”

“Yeah. I’m fine with that. We’re … promise. That doesn’t matter.”

Trust me. I’ve moved on.

“Okay,” Vale replies, stretching the word out. “Then another question. Leana was mentioning how lots of people go in theme or matching, and I was wondering if you would want to do that. With me.”

“Oh, I mean, I—”

“Full honesty, before you answer, I already have outfits, like, halfway done. I was going to go with that guy I’d been talking to, but, when he realized I wasn’t really into him constantly trying to figure out how to stay over, he ghosted me.

And Leana’s been trying to find someone else for me to go with, since it was her fault anyway for needing to FaceTime while I was hanging out with him and mentioning the party, and then he was like, ‘Why didn’t you tell me about it? ’ ”

I pick myself up, my hands planted on the mattress behind me. “Has she found someone for you yet?”

“Well, one of her pledge sisters has an older brother, some gay sophomore frat guy, and she said she could introduce me. He’s not bad-looking, so I was thinking about it—”

“Nah.” I try my best not to shout, my hand coming up, palm toward him. “Tell her he’s got to find someone else. I’ll go with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t have to find an outfit, it sounds like. And fuck this guy you were talking to; I’m glad he’s not around anymore.”

“ Honestly honestly, I wasn’t even planning on inviting him in the first place. I wanted to ask you first.”

I’m worried that’s got me smiling goofy right now. Blushing, even. “You promise I was originally going to be your first choice?”

He lets out a breathy laugh and shakes his head at me. “That’s what you want to hear? That you are the main guy in my life right now?”

“It might help,” I tell him, unable to keep the smirk off my face. “Unless you really want to go with that frat guy. I’m not going to be blamed for coming in between that.”

“You aren’t. I promise.”

“I don’t know,” I say as that hand comes to my chin, stroking it, pretending to be considering my options here.

That maybe I wanted to go as a group with the boys or something.

All, “I’m sure if he’s seen you at all, he’s got it bad for you.

Don’t want to have to break a guy’s heart taking you away from him for a night. That wouldn’t be very ally of me.”

But then Vale’s “Gabi, come on” whine and a pillow to my face when I start laughing have me waving the white flag.

“Okay, okay. Ya basta. Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“You sure?”

“Are you ? Giving you one last chance to choose a frat boy over a futbolista.”

His face scrunches, like he got a whiff of something nasty. “A thing that would never happen.”

“If I say yes, can we go get tacos now?”

That gets me another pillow to the face.

And maybe it took another twenty minutes for us to start leaving because taking away the pillow turned into us play-wrestling on my bed and me nearly falling on the floor.

And finding out that Vale is even more ticklish than I am.

And spending who knows how long catching our breaths, me on my knees, sitting in between his legs, staring at Vale lying on my bed, wondering if my heart was beating faster than usual because of us acting foolish or because I’m completely down bad for this view.

But if I have to leave this moment, these last couple of hours, here, inside my room, and if one day I’m going to have to figure out how to drop these feelings and pretend they never existed, I’d easily spend twenty more minutes—and twenty more after that—being fools with him and letting myself feel right now. Tacos can wait.