Chapter 34
I’M GOOD ENOUGH.
I believe that.
If I’m going to win a championship for this team, I’m going to do it as me. As all of me.
I pick my head up, looking at Kat at my desk chair, P é rez next to me on my bed, the two of us freshly back from winning our quarterfinals match. Finally, I’m playing like my old self. Not one goal attempt got past me. I was blocking balls left and right and up and down.
I’m 99 percent there. And now, I want nothing more than to grab the rest.
“So, Vale and I broke up.” I start. “Y’all know this. But I … the truth is that I let myself give him up. We got found out. By Barrera. And he told me that I either end things with Vale or I get benched the rest of the season. Even if he had to make sure to give Coach a reason to bench me.”
“Shut up,” P é rez nearly yells, his eyes going big, getting a “Shh!” from Kat, not wanting him to wake up Ahmed and Nguyen. Honestly, if they hadn’t crashed the second we got back home, I’d have brought them into this now too. Told them the truth. My truth.
If not now, then they’ll find out soon enough.
“He really said that? When?”
“Yeah. He did. It was after I got injured. Before y’all got back to the house.
Looking back on it, I should’ve stood my ground.
As hurt as I was, I should’ve done more.
But I was so convinced that this was always going to happen, and I was always going to have to choose and, when that time came, I’d have to choose football.
And everything he said just reinforced everything I was already believing. ”
“So that’s why?” Kat asks.
I nod, taking a deep breath and trying to swallow the still-very-much-aching pain I’ve got in my heart.
“I let him go. I let him go because I couldn’t fight for myself.
But I’m ready to fight for myself now. I want to be in control of my own future.
And I’m ready to say fuck all that talk.
Fuck who does and doesn’t belong here. I’ve put in the work.
I’ve shown that I’m dedicated to this game.
Now I want to show myself that same love.
Barrera said so himself, that I’m destined for greatness.
And if that’s true, if I’m so great already, then that’s got to include everything. ”
“You sure?” Kat asks. “You ready for this?”
“I want to achieve everything I’ve ever dreamed of while being exactly who I am. No less. So, yeah, I’m ready.”
“Then we’ve got your back,” P é rez says, his hand reaching out for mine and squeezing it. “Always.”
“And Vale?”
“I miss him. A lot. And maybe he can forgive me.”
“A huevo, hermano,” P é rez says, coming in for a hug. A second later, Kat’s in on it too, shoving us onto my mattress. “You’re El Chivo. El papi. He will. And staying true to yourself only makes you and this team greater.”
For the first time in a long time, it feels like all of me is here.
It feels like a brand-new me is lying here with some of the best friends I’ve made this semester.
A Gabi Pi n a who’s figured some stuff out, gone through a couple changes, only gotten better as a player, and is never leaving anything behind again.
This is me, whole. Exactly as I am.
I’ve been saying the words out loud in my room and then when we got to North Carolina, in front of the hotel bathroom mirror, to a point where they come out easier, but still, standing in the middle of the changing room at WakeMed Soccer Park after our last practice before the championship game tomorrow, the entire team still high off our incredible semifinals performance against Clemson, having yelled, “Listen up, guys , ” followed by my whole squad doing exactly what I said, turning around and giving me their attention, this one’s pretty terrifying.
Even after having gotten more pep talks from Kat and P é rez, yeah, I’m scared.
This is my moment. Terrifying and rest-of-life-defining. And I’m reaching for it and grabbing it.
I think of the me who’s going to exist in five years, in ten years, in twenty years.
The Gabriel Pi n a who will look back at this version of me, at this moment right here and now, and be proud.
Who will know beyond a single doubt that I am good enough.
Who got out of that cave and embraced change and never looked back.
Barrera’s glaring at me like he’s daring me to say something. Daring me to challenge him. He can sense it. And, when I feel bodies behind me, hands on my shoulder, when I look back and see P é rez, and Ahmed and Nguyen close by, Barrera gets even more tense.
And I know I can do this.
Pues, post up, Capit á n. You don’t get control over me anymore.
“I just want to say … I’ve been in a really weird place this season.
A good weird, mostly, but in lots of ways it’s been really scary.
I’ve always idolized people who look change in the eyes and go at it fearlessly.
Or maybe they just make it look like they’re fearless.
Maybe they’re scared too. Maybe they saw all the things that could go wrong, all the ways growing pains hurt, all the reasons they could fail. But they still did it.”
I let out a laugh, shaking my head. My hands at my waist squeeze some of the tension out. “Which is weird because, up until recently, I thought I was already done changing and growing, for some reason. Even though lots of people in my life told me I was a clown for thinking that.”
I catch a couple teammates nodding and I wonder if maybe there are lots of us who secretly have thought we were too good for change.
That we’ve already hit the end of growing up so soon.
And I wonder what they’ve gone through that woke them up to the reality that, actually, maybe we’re never done growing up.
“I want to look back and know that I was a person who did that too. I want to be someone worth looking up to. And, with that said, I want to tell y’all that I’m … I’m bisexual.”
I can feel the tension coming from a few of the guys. See the way some of them bite their lips and tighten their arms crossed over their chests. Watch two of them glance at each other, and I can’t help but wonder if they’re both thinking it: “Not on our team.”
But then I hear footsteps behind me and see Ahmed and Nguyen come closer, adding their hands on top of P é rez’s, see their small but sure smiles, and I know that I’ve got my boys. From running into the gulf in the middle of the night to right here, in this locker room, we’ve got one another.
“It’s something I’ve known about myself for a few months now, and something that, if I’d listened to myself a little closer, I might’ve realized about myself a long time ago.
And, at first, I tried to fight it. Not because I’m uncomfortable being bi, but because I know there are guys in this room who are.
I know there are guys in this stadium who are.
I know there are guys who look like my Pops and my t í os who are. ”
I lock eyes with Barrera, wanting him to hear me, to know that I’m fighting for myself now.
He’s red in the face, trying to hold in his anger.
And, maybe even more, that jealousy. He has to stand here and see someone who—his words—is the future of this team say This is me, motherfuckers and he can’t do anything about it.
Whatever’s got him stuck in his ways, keeping him from just being cool and decent, that’s not going to be my journey too.
“And I let the expectations of the people in this room, the people out there waiting for us, nuestra gente, and what I thought they would want from me define me. I let the line that they and y’all drew become the one I can’t cross.
So, I tried my best not to. I tried to fight something about myself that, actually, I feel great embracing.
I gave up a really great guy because I didn’t want to cross that line.
And, shittiest of all, I nearly gave up myself too.
I was so ready to. Pero, ya basta. I’m done fighting. ”
“Yeah,” P é rez yells, his voice loud in my ear and his body pushing into me as his arm reaches out and points to our team captain. “You hear that, Barrera? Pinche pendejo, puro verg ü enza.”
“P é rez, you—”
“ Shh, Gabo.” My teammate looks fed up. This boy who is almost always all smiles and goofy as shit is now glaring across the room.
“I knew Gabi wasn’t about to say it out loud because he’s not a narc and he’s just trying to play this game.
?Pero yo? Nope. That guy right there threatened Pi n a.
So, what now then? Can’t do shit to someone who’s not scared of your bitch ass anymore, huh?
Come on. Do something. Big bad not so big anymore, punk—”
Barrera’s fist hits a locker, the force of it probably making a sizable dent.
Our teammates, who had started talking among themselves after hearing me and P é rez, all go quiet, their heads turning to him.
His eyes are bulging and red, staring at us, his chest rising and falling with heated breaths.
“ Shut up. Shut up. Yeah, I said what I said. There’s no room for a joto on my team.
I don’t give a shit who it is. And, you know what?
Better for us anyway. It’s like I told him, this little fucker’s been on the team for barely a season now and it’s like everything we’ve worked for and those of us who’ve been here for years don’t matter anymore.
All the sweat and tears and blood mean nothing because everyone fucking loves Pi n a, look how great Pi n a is, there goes Pi n a breaking a record . Fuck Pi n a!”
Barrera circles around, looking between me and my roommates and the rest of the team.
Giving off some lion-about-to-fight-for-his-territory vibes.
“This is not his team. But he’s all they care about.
He’s the one with the shutout, the one with the Freshman of the Year award, the one with a Player of the Year award that I should’ve gotten.
That belonged to someone who’s put in the fucking work.
And you know what happens now? He’s the brave player who fucks guys.
Next thing you know we’re all wearing pinche love is love shirts.
Getting interviewed not because of our skill or every goal we’ve made but because they want to hear about how much we love having a maric ó n on our team, forcing us to celebrate and smile about it.
That’s not happening. I’m not captaining that team! ”
“Pues, if you don’t want to be a part of that team, then don’t, Barrera.”
The entire room stills. Swear, we’d be able to hear someone dropping a pen back in Corpus Christi. I watch as Coach walks toward all of us, right down the middle of the room, stopping between Barrera and me and my boys, his back to us.
“And if there’s anyone else who doesn’t want to be part of that team, if there’s anyone who cares so much about who your teammates are spending their free time with that you’d rather not play with them, don’t. Feel free to watch from the stands or head back to the hotel.”
“Coach, I—”
“Am finished,” he says, cutting Barrera off. “You’re done here.”
Barrera bites down on his bottom lip, like he’s trying to replace his rage with pain.
And when he finally realizes he’s lost, he lets out one last “Fuck you, and fuck that maric ó n!” before walking out.
A few others go after him, mostly seniors— most of our seniors—while the rest of us stay quiet, waiting for Coach to tell us where we go from here.
Some, catching who’s left, even look lost, like they’re ready to give up and go home.
“Ibekwe, you’re captain now,” he says, picking his chin up toward our junior winger. “Ready to lead these men to a championship?”
Ibekwe looks from Coach to me, like he’s trying to get a read on where we’re at now with all this.
If there’s still a lingering chance the whole room erupts into shouting and throwing fists or quitting.
Ibekwe’s face is stern and serious, and he takes slow steps up to me, the two of us nearly the same height.
Finally, he lets out a loud sigh, shaking his head and laughing.
“You good now? Got all your secrets out?”
I let out a chuckle and feel the tension fall from my shoulders. “Yeah. I think so.”
“You back? No more letting balls get past you?”
I nod, standing up straighter, more serious. “I am. I’m back.”
“Good. And after we win this whole thing, you’re going to go make it right with that boy you dropped. The one that was at all our games cheering you on?”
“Yeah. I am.”
He holds his hand out, dapping me up, and brings me in for a hug. “He’s a good-looking guy. Give him your jacket back, yeah? Looks better on him anyway.”
I laugh, nodding. “I think so too.”
“And we’ve got your back, Pi n a. Today, tomorrow, and the day after. Heard?”
“Heard, Cap.”
“Then let’s go win this thing, boys.”