Chapter 31
“ SANTA MIER— ” A WAVE of pain, stinging like my arm is being ripped from my body, goes through my entire torso when I hear that voice—Barrera’s voice. We’re rushing, turning, I’m pulling out of Vale, pain, reaching for a colcha, another wave of pain, throwing the colcha at Vale, more pain.
“No. No, no, no.”
“Gabi—”
“Stay here,” I tell Vale, panic and frustration heavy in my voice. “Please. Whatever you do, don’t come out until he’s gone.”
I grab my underwear, rushing to put it on with one hand while heading for the door, shutting it behind me. Barrera’s there, waiting for me, leaning against the wall. His arms are crossed, his face is scrunched; he looks both confused and really angry.
“Bar—”
“Tell me I didn’t see what I think I saw in there.” His eyes come up to look me in the face and his voice is straight, matter-of-fact, and, yeah, angry. “Or maybe you’re finally done fucking lying to me now that I walked in on you. I—?Eres joto?”
“Barrera, escuchame—”
“Responde la pregunta, cabr ó n.”
“Why does it matter?”
He takes in a breath and then lets out a loud sigh, turning to look away from me for a second, like he’s deep in thought and doesn’t want me to figure out what’s going on in his head. And when he looks back at me, it’s not as someone who’s decided that this doesn’t matter.
“I knew it. I fucking knew it.” The words come out almost like a laugh.
He smiles, but there’s no friendliness in it.
His hands come up to his head, brushing through his hair before making fists.
“And I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I really did. But I knew I saw you making out with him at that ABC party.”
Shit. Every muscle in my body goes tight. I want to throw up but I also don’t want to take my eyes off Barrera.
“I knew the way you looked at him at games was some pinche joter í a happening. On my pitch. On my team. I should’ve let that guy at you.
The one who knew exactly what you are too.
I should’ve fucking helped him. I knew, at some point, you were going to make this my problem, and I could’ve had him take care of it before we got here and I had to see it. ”
“Barrera—”
“ No one is going to stick up for you! ” he yells, his voice booming all the way down the stairs. “I sure as shit won’t. You told me to my face that you weren’t fucking around like this, and then you let me find you balls deep in him? You just disrespect me like that?”
“I wasn’t trying to—”
“We’re done with playing nice and stupid!
I’m done giving you the benefit of the doubt when I knew someday I’d find you exactly like I did.
And when I saw him out there in the parking lot and you leaving with him instead of your parents, there was no way I could keep acting ignorant, as much as I wanted to believe anything else.
I thought, I told this boy. I’ve told him all year to what? ”
“To do—”
“To do what I tell you!” His voice is even louder as his fist hits the wall. “To work with me. To focus on the game and what you need to do to get where you want to go. I thought, he’ll do that. He won’t make this difficult for us. He’s one of us.”
“Why does it have to be difficult?”
“Stop being stupid, Pi n a. I … You’re smarter than that.
You aren’t some mediocre white boy on some mediocre white team with their Pride flags and kombucha and parents who love drag queens.
They play by different rules than you. You don’t get that.
Nuestra gente, nos padres, nos t í os, nos primos, none of them are going to want their kid wearing a kit with the name of a maric ó n on the back of it.
That just gets them called a maric ó n too, ?t ú sabes? ”
I hate that he’s telling me everything I was afraid of most. Maybe this whole time it was that obvious: I was never going to be good enough.
“You could have a shutout that lasts all four years you’re on this team, but guess what? All anyone will know about you is that you’re a culero, and none of them are going to put up with that gay shit. So, d í game, Pi n a. ?Eres joto?”
“I … I’m bi.”
He stares at me for whole seconds that feel like hours before letting out a laugh. And, swear, he starts smiling. “Pues, at least that’s easier then.”
“What do you mean? What are you talking about?”
“I mean, when I think of the options I’m going to give you, there’s got to be one you can—hopefully—live with.”
As scared as I am right now, as cornered as I feel, there’s an equal amount of anger in me too. I’m angry about how helpless I am here. About how Barrera got exactly what he wanted. About how I was so close to doing this my way, and I’m getting that taken from me.
About how, this whole time we were just playing each other, and, in the end, he got the jump on me.
“What are the options then?”
“Option one, and the option that I would urge you to take, is that you get rid of him. Now. Go find a handful of sorority girls to help you forget about him if you have to and leave that part of you behind. It doesn’t exist. It never did.
This is the option I want for you, Pi n a.
It’s the option that leads to you getting all those awards you deserve.
The ones that you got today while that jotito—”
“You call him that one more time and I’m bringing you to the ground,” I say, looking deep into his eyes and letting that anger fester just enough to be threatening. “I might only have one good arm right now, but I promise you that.”
He smirks as he lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “See, you’re already more concerned about him than about yourself. Off to a bad start, little bro.”
“I’m not your little bro.”
“We’ll see. Maybe you’ll realize I’m the one out of the two of us with your best interests at heart right now.”
“You don’t know shit about my heart.”
“You don’t want to protect him? Because I can tell you all the things I’ve heard the folks in our stands say about him.
The things your teammates have said. You want this to get out and have all those fans you’re getting on social media, a whole community rooting for you, to turn on you?
To tell him exactly what they think of him?
Think of all the hate he’ll get because of you. ”
The pain in my eyes is nearly unbearable now, as I try not to rage cry in front of this guy. My gut, my chest, everywhere hurts and I want so badly to believe he’s wrong, as much as I know there’s truth in every word.
“And you don’t want to protect yourself? Your own dream? You’re destined for greatness, Pi n a, but that door closes the second they know about him and you.”
Was this always going to be how it happened? Was Barrera always, in the end, going to show his true colors? He’s just someone who’s a punk. Who’s only ever looked out for himself.
Honestly, he always has been. I’ve just been trying to look the other way. Trying to give him a grace he’s never deserved. A respect that asks too much of me for nothing in return.
“Or, if you want to do this the hard way, option two is that you bench yourself. Right now. You get to keep him, fuck him all you want. But I’m not allowing any joter í a on my team, so, if you go back and finish up in there, you aren’t on my squad.
You won’t be seeing another minute of play time.
And I’ll make sure whoever comes after me feels the same way.
You’ll be just like that Florida boy who picked dick over football.
“There’s an option three, too. But it’s pretty painful.
You can stand here, defend your honor, and tell me that you’re going to keep on not listening to me, doing this shit behind my back, or in front of my face, even, and I can make sure that you never set foot on my pitch again.
That you never set foot on any pitch that matters. ”
I glance down and see his hands in tight fists at his sides, one a little red from putting a dent in our wall.
And then, back up, see how he looks at my sling and bandages.
He’s almost excited about the thought of having me here, injured and vulnerable.
How easily he could turn this minor injury into an actual problem.
But then he takes a breath and forces some calm into his face.
“I’m reasonable, though, Pi n a. I want to resolve this like the smart men we are who love this game. I want to see you as captain of this team in a few years. As captain of a national team. Don’t ruin everything for one boy. Don’t make me ruin you. You’ve got to realize keeping Vale around—”
“Shut up,” I yell, wanting to force some menace in my voice.
Wanting him to know that there is some small part of my brain that says I could still fight him.
That it’d be worth whatever happens next.
“I never want to hear his name come out of your mouth again. Ever. You don’t get that.
You don’t get to act like you’re looking out for him.
And, actually, stop thinking about him. This isn’t about him anymore. It’s about you and me.”
Another sigh, another pinche smile that says he knows he’s in control here. And a step closer, like a fucking wolf. Like my threats mean nothing to him.
“Then tell me. What are you doing?”
I’m not strong enough to keep the tear from escaping my eye, as much as I huff breaths through my nose, holding on to the little bit of composure I have left.
“I—I’ll take care of this.”
“And you mean it this time? You’re not going to make me look like a fool anymore? Because if you tell me one thing and I figure out that you’re still messing around with him—”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I mean it.”
Barrera’s eyes are like a dog waiting to pounce, waiting to catch me in a lie.
“I’m done. You won.”
It’s almost cartoonish, his smile now. It gets bigger and more villainous when his hand lands on my hurt shoulder and I flinch. He’s soft with it, but he also squeezes just enough to see my face cringe from the building pain.