Chapter 1
Donovan
With each minute that ticks by, the weight on my shoulders lifts, the further away from Tynerston I get, the easier it is to breathe.
This is it, a fresh start. Granted, it’s only for twelve weeks, but it’s twelve weeks away from the motorcycle club and their homophobic rule, it’s twelve weeks away from my brother, twelve weeks away from everyone at Tynerston University and their never-ending questions about why I never seem to have a girlfriend or hook up at parties.
The one person I’m going to miss is Beth.
I know it’s corny, but she’s been a ray of light in my life since the day I came out to her.
Now a regular visitor at the LAMC clubhouse, she’s lessened the questions I get about girls and having her there with me makes it all feel so much easier.
A reminder that someone in the world knows me, the real me.
Even though she ran out of my leaving party last night faster than you can say ‘truth or dare’, she still showed up this morning to see me off from the station.
I asked what happened in the supply closet with Diablo, but she changed the subject and muttered something about him being a dick.
I’m not so sure though, we heard some interesting bumps from inside that closet, and the sexual tension between them has been building since day one.
I won’t miss my brother, in the sense that he’s the person I hide myself from the most; but not seeing him for twelve weeks will still be hard.
Last night, when he took me to one side and told me how proud he is, that he’s happy I’m doing something he’s never had the opportunity to do, I almost wished I could tell him…
almost. In those rare moments when he’s sweet, I wonder if he’d accept me, but one glance around the clubhouse brings reality crashing back.
Anyway, heeding Beth’s advice, I push them both from my mind. She’s given me strict instructions that I’m not allowed to worry about them while I’m away. The next few months are for me to focus on myself, to live outside the shadow of my brother and family, to finally live freely.
I mean, that thought alone is terrifying, I have no idea how to be me.
I’ve never had to before, always keeping myself hidden, wearing a carefully constructed mask to make sure no one finds out I’m attracted to men.
Even at school, I choose to stay hidden, there’s always the fear that rumors will reach my brother, or worse, my father.
In an ideal world, I’d have loved to have gone to school away from Tynerston, but I wasn’t about to turn down a full scholarship to study journalism and the opportunity to follow my dream. Besides, if I hadn’t gone to TU, I’d have never met Beth, and I couldn’t be without her now.
That’s why I jumped at the chance when my teacher suggested I spend the summer semester at Winbrook University; I’m not just doing it for the extra credit, they’ve hired a new journalism teacher, and he’s returned from working overseas as a reporter.
The chance to learn from him, someone who has been out in the field, living the life of a current events reporter, was too good of an opportunity to turn down.
And the fact that I get to live somewhere for a couple of months where I’m anonymous, that’s one hell of a silver lining.
I’ve never been to Winbrook, I’ve never really been anywhere.
The furthest away from home I’ve ever been is Bayside, where my mom lives with her new husband, Miguel.
The view from the train window is the opposite of what I’m used to; Winbrook is all mansions with huge backyards, not that all of Tynerston is bad, Radbury Heights is similar to Winbrook, but we’ve also got some dodgy as fuck areas too, like where Beth still lives.
The one thing that makes people favor Tynerston over Winbrook? Sports. It’s home to two of the state’s biggest sports teams, the Tigers, and the Warriors. I can never remember which one is which though, just that one is football and the other is hockey—sports really isn’t my thing.
The train slows as a huge station appears up ahead, we pass a large sign that says ‘Welcome to Winbrook’ with not a speck of graffiti on it, unlike the ‘Welcome to Tynerston’ sign.
“We’re not in Kansas anymore…” I mutter to myself.
I type out a quick message to Beth…
Arrived safe, just looking for a taxi to go to the dorm, didn’t love the idea of getting lost before I get started. Thanks for seeing me off, I’m gonna miss you so much, you’d better call. Love you.
…before putting my phone away and grabbing my suitcase. This is it, I’m here.
Once on campus, it doesn’t take long to get my class schedule and room assignment, before lugging my suitcase across the main square towards my new temporary home.
The building is so much nicer than the dorms at TU, older, but better maintained.
And I’m surprised to find the people welcoming too; arriving this late in the year, everyone’s in their cliques and settled, but I’m met with lots of greetings and smiles as I make my way to my room, number thirty-four.
I stand outside and pause, my roommate is probably expecting me, but I can’t just unlock the door and walk in, this is where they live. I knock a few times, but there’s no answer, so I knock again, louder this time.
“You won’t get an answer,” a voice behind me says.
I turn and see a girl smiling at me. “What?” I ask.
“You must be Donovan.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Kate, room thirty-eight,” she says, tipping her head at a door down the corridor.
“Uh… nice to meet you,” I say, shaking her hand.
“You too. Stephen, your roommate, he’s away this weekend.”
“Oh I see, thanks. I’d have probably stayed standing here like an idiot.”
She smiles and twirls a strand of her hair around her finger. “Not an idiot, a gentleman. Most guys would have barged in, it’s nice that you didn’t.”
“Hmm… well, uh… thanks,” I say, turning to unlock the door.
“You’re much better looking than his last roommate.”
“Oh… uh… thanks,” I say, not really knowing how I’m supposed to respond to that, I just want to get in my room and away from her if I’m honest.
“Well, you know where I am if you get lonely, feel free to come over anytime.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I nod my head slightly, not wanting to encourage her, but speed up my attempts to unlock the door before pushing inside and shutting it. I lean against it and let my head fall back. Shit. I do not need this, not here.
Girls have always liked me. Beth’s told me I’m good looking, a hottie, even a cutie patootie, as she says, but I don’t think it’s that.
When it comes to girls being into me, it’s probably more to do with the vibes I give off.
Because I’m not attracted to them, I’m not speaking to them with the goal of getting them into bed, so I’m actually interested in what they’re saying.
That in turn makes me a good listener, easy to talk to, a ‘nice guy’, a.k.a. good boyfriend material.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been told that my brother is the guy girls go to for a fuck, a ‘bad boy’ through and through, but I’m the one they’d go to for a relationship.
Which is fine, I like being the nice guy, but I don’t want girls to think I’m boyfriend material.
I want guys to think I’m boyfriend material. And that, I have no idea how to do.
Kate was clearly flirting with me, I’m no expert, but she was pretty explicit, and now it will be around campus in no time that there’s a new guy, and they’ll all assume I’m straight, and I’ll never get to be me, and it’s all just a vicious fucking cycle.
Fuck, I’m doing it again. Letting my mind get lost in the spiral.
I take a couple of deep breaths and look around the room, trying to focus on something else, anything to distract me.
One side is completely empty—guessing that’s my side—and the other is full of stuff.
It’s not messy, he just seems to have a lot of things.
Most of it seems sports related, the walls are covered in posters of sports teams, and weird diagrams, rectangles with squiggles all over them.
Honestly who knows, anything sports related eludes me.
But fucking great, the icing on the cake. I’m bunking with a jock.
Stephen
The final whistle blows on the drills we’ve been running; my legs feel like jello and my entire body hurts. I thought I knew what a tough practice was, but I didn’t have a clue.
“Huddle up! Take a knee!” Coach Matthews shouts, and we make our way over.
Not only are the training sessions tougher in the pros, but the whole team dynamic is different too; college football is played by college kids. I used to hate it when people referred to us as kids, but now I’ve spent some time in the real world, we are a bunch of kids, no doubt about it.
My teammates at Winbrook answer back, mutter under their breath, argue amongst each other.
But here, with the Warriors, when one of the coaches says something, you do it; no ifs, ands, or buts.
There are no consequences for answering back, because you just don’t do it.
I’ve always been mature for my age, but this first weekend has been a steep learning curve.
“Good practice, fellas,” Coach Matthews says, looking around the team.
“We keep working like this, we’re going to have a successful season, and hopefully do well in the playoffs.
It’s not going to be easy; we’ve all got a target on our back.
You’ll need to work, but we’ve definitely got the potential. ”
“Yes, Coach,” we say in agreement.
He nods. “Good men, alright, hit the showers, you’re free to go.”
We make our way towards the tunnel, our cleats echoing against the floor.
“How was your first weekend of training, rookie?” Jordan, one of the other wide receivers, asks me.
I chuckle, “Tough. I thought I knew what a tough practice was, but I had no idea.”