Chapter 26 #2
JP offers a small wave back. Max throws himself at Gavin in an enthusiastic hug, arms barely making it around the shoulder pads.
"That was amazing,” Max declares into Gavin's chest. "You just… and then he… and the coach…" He pulls back, wrinkling his nose. "Oh my god, you smell terrible. Like, aggressively terrible. Do football players not believe in deodorant?"
Gavin laughs, bright and loud. "Occupational hazard. I'll shower soon, promise."
"Please do. For the good of humanity."
Leo manages a stiff nod when Gavin offers him a fist bump. JP returns the fist bump like a robot, like he studied a YouTube tutorial on fist-bumping etiquette.
"Seriously, though." Gavin's voice softens. "Thanks for being here. All of you. It means a lot."
"We're trying to experience college," JP explains. "Sports are apparently part of that."
"Well, I appreciate being part of your college experience." Gavin squeezes my hand. "I gotta go shower and do some meet-and-greet stuff with donors. Wait for me? Should be like forty-five minutes tops."
"We'll be here."
He kisses the top of my head, right there, in front of everyone, like it's nothing, and jogs off toward the locker room.
Max sighs dreamily. "I want one."
"A football player?"
"A person who looks at me like that." He glances around, then quickly looks away. "You know. Someday."
Leo's expression is strangely blank.
"Come on," JP says. "Let's find somewhere to wait that isn't directly in the sun. I'm not built for extended UV exposure."
We end up near the player entrance to the athletic complex, tucked into a patch of shade.
Max is chattering about the physics of football trajectories.
Leo is pretending not to listen while clearly hanging on every word.
JP is typing into his phone and I don't really want to know what he’s making notes of this time.
Normal. Easy. Good.
Then I hear voices coming up the path behind us.
"— can't believe he's still pulling this shit. Dad's gonna lose his mind."
"Already did, from what I heard. Called him last week, told him to get his head straight. Apparently, the little shit said no."
My blood goes cold. I recognize one of the voices. It's Gavin's asshole cousin, Clint.
"No way. Gavin said no to Dad?" That voice is unfamiliar. Shit! This must be Gavin's brother.
"That's what I told you on the phone." Clint has the same dismissive cruelty as last time he was here. "He's hanging out with the fairies now. One of them was at dinner with him the other night."
"And you're sure it wasn't just—"
"I saw them, Troy. Holding hands and shit. It was disgusting."
JP's hand finds my elbow. He's heard them too.
"Well, well." Clint's voice is closer now. "Speak of the devil."
I turn slowly. Two guys are walking toward us, one I recognize as Clint, Gavin's cousin. The other is taller, broader, with Gavin's coloring but none of his warmth. Has to be the brother. Troy.
Clint's lip curls when he sees me. "Hey, I know you. You're one of the fairies Gavin's hanging out with now."
Max steps closer to me. JP moves to my other side.
"Excuse me?" JP's voice is ice cold.
"You heard me." Clint looks us up and down with obvious disgust. "Jesus, Troy, look at them. This is what your brother's wasting his time with."
Troy shakes his head slowly. "Fucking embarrassing."
My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. But before I can respond, before I can even figure out what to say, the doors behind us burst open.
"Doc! Hey, sorry that took—"
Gavin's face is bright, happy, already reaching for me. I see his arms open for a hug, and I—
I step back.
Not because I want to. But because I see his brother watching over Gavin's shoulder, see Clint's smirk, and I can't. I can't be the reason this gets worse for him.
Confusion flashes across Gavin's face. "Doc? What—"
"Baby brother." Troy's voice cuts through the air. "Fancy seeing you here."
Gavin goes rigid. The warmth drains from his expression, replaced by something careful and cold. He turns slowly, positioning himself between his family and me.
"Troy." His voice comes out flat. "Clint. What are you doing here?"
"Came to watch the exhibition. Support the family legacy." Troy's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Dad couldn't make it, obviously. But he wanted us to check in. See how you're doing."
"I'm fine."
"Are you?" Troy's gaze slides to me then over to JP and Max who are flanking me. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're keeping some fuckin interesting company."
Max's hand finds mine. Squeezes.
Gavin takes a breath. When he speaks, his voice is carefully controlled. "Troy, Clint, these are my friends. This is JP, Max, and Sebastian."
Friends.
The word hits me harder than it should. I know why he said it. I know he's trying to protect me. But still.
Friends.
"Friends," Troy repeats the word like it tastes bad. "Right. The fairy brigade."
"Don't call them that."
"Why not? That's what they are, isn't it?" Troy steps closer, and I see Gavin's hands curl into fists at his sides. "Dad told us about your little tantrum on the phone. Defending the queers in your frat. Talking about how dating men is no big deal."
"It isn't."
"Bullshit." Clint spits on the ground. "You've gone soft, man. California's rotted your brain."
"Nah, maybe what dad’s been saying is what’s rotten. You ever think about that?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means—" Gavin's jaw clenches. "It means maybe Dad and you and everyone back home are wrong. Maybe being gay isn't some disease or sin or whatever the hell you've convinced yourselves. Maybe it's just... wanting what everyone wants, someone making you happy."
Troy laughs. It's an ugly sound. "Listen to yourself. You sound like one of them."
"Would that be so bad?"
The question hangs in the air. Troy's expression shifts, confusion, then something darker.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"I'm saying—" Gavin stops. Swallows. "I'm saying that these are my friends, and you don't get to talk to them like that. Or about them. Or about any of the guys in my frat."
"Your frat. The one full of ass-fuckers."
"The one full of my brothers." Gavin's voice has dropped, gone dangerous. "Which is more than I can say for you."
Troy's face goes red. He takes a step forward, and for a horrible second, I think he's going to swing.
Then the doors open again.
"Yo, Robins, you coming to—" Omar stops short, taking in the scene. Jamal's right behind him, and they both seem to assess the situation in about half a second.
"Everything okay here?" Jamal asks, his voice carefully neutral.
Troy looks at them, two extremely large, athletic men with expressions that suggest they wouldn't mind an excuse to intervene, and his posture shifts. Backs down when he's outnumbered.
Bullies always do.
"We're done here." He points at Gavin. "But this isn't over. Wait till Dad hears about this."
"Tell him whatever you want." Gavin's voice doesn't waver. "I'm done pretending to be someone I'm not just to make him happy. Never fuckin’ worked anyway."
Troy's mouth twists. He looks at me one more time, a look that says this is my fault, all of it, and then he's walking away, Clint trailing behind him with one last sneer.
Silence.
Then Gavin turns to us, and his whole demeanor changes. The rigid tension melts away, replaced by something softer. Worried.
"Hey. Come here." He opens his arms, gathering all three of us into a group hug. Max goes easily. JP is stiff but allows it. I let myself be pulled in, face pressing against Gavin's chest, breathing in the scent of clean soap and fabric softener.
"You guys okay?" he murmurs against my hair. His lips press against the top of my head. "I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry you had to hear that."
"We're fine," JP says, his voice slightly muffled.
"Are you?" Gavin pulls back just enough to look at each of us. "Seriously. Max? JP? Doc?"
"We're okay," I manage. "Are you?"
He laughs, but it's hollow. "I will be. I just—" He shakes his head. "God, I hate them. I hate that they came here. I hate that they talked to you like that."
"It's not your fault."
"Feels like it is."
Omar clears his throat. "Hate to interrupt, but... You good, man?"
Gavin nods. "Yeah. Thanks for the backup."
"Always." Jamal steps closer and puts a hand on Gavin's shoulder. "Family shit is rough. But you've got us, alright? You've got the team."
Omar puts his hand on Gavin's other shoulder. And then, somehow, impossibly, they're including us in the gesture. Omar's hand lands on Max's shoulder. Jamal's on JP's.
A circle. A team. A family that has nothing to do with blood.
"We've got you," Omar says simply.
Gavin's eyes are bright. He blinks hard, clears his throat. "Thanks, man. I… thank you."
I should be happy.I should be grateful for this moment, for these guys, for Gavin's arm around me, and his teammates accepting us without question.
But all I can think about is Troy's face. Clint's sneer. 'Wait till Dad hears about this.'
Gavin's family is horrible. Truly, genuinely, horrible. And he's going to lose them if he stays with me. Not might lose them… will. It's not a question of if, it's a question of when.
He introduced me as his friend.
And maybe that's all I should be. Maybe that's all I can be if I want him to have any chance of keeping the people who are supposed to love him unconditionally.
Maybe I should—
Gavin's arm tightens around me. He presses another kiss to my hair.
"I've got you," he murmurs, just for me. "Okay? Whatever they throw at us, I've got you."
My heart cracks right down the middle.