Chapter 2 #3
Sometimes, Alex wished he could muster the same immunity to other people’s judgement.
Lee couldn’t say he was surprised when Kieran put him on the same team as Alex for the practice match.
It was fine, mostly. There were a couple of moments when Alex should have passed to Lee instead of Jeff or Dec, and Lee might have taken a shot or two at the goal even when Alex had been better positioned, but it was fine. Mostly.
It appeared as though Oliver disagreed.
“Let’s talk about Alex,” he said as soon as Lee returned from the shower.
Lee draped his towel over the back of a chair and retrieved the set of clothes he’d laid out earlier on the crisp white bedspread. “Let’s not.”
Oliver was a master at wielding expectant silence like a weapon. When Lee glanced over while buttoning up his jeans, Oliver was still perched on the edge of his bed, simply waiting.
“Oliver.”
“Lee.”
“Oliver.”
“You know it’s only a matter of time until Kieran addresses it with you both. Might as well practice what you’re going to say.”
“I’m hardly gonna tell the coach I used to have a crush on him and he took it badly.” Lee hadn’t exactly meant to say that, but he didn’t want to take it back either.
“You had a crush on Alex?” Oliver clarified.
“Not on Kieran, that’s for sure. I mean, he’s fit for his age, but…” Lee pulled on a faded T-shirt and sat down on the other bed, abruptly tired. He was not looking forward to filming that ad campaign later today. “Y’know. Not looking to date someone who could be my daddy, for all I know.”
Oliver gave Lee a critical once-over. “No family resemblance, far as I can tell. I think you’re safe.”
“Not the point.”
“True.” Oliver leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. “Because the point is that you used to have a crush on Alex and he took it badly. Like, how badly?”
“Stone walls have been known to show more emotion.” Lee worried his bottom lip with his teeth, then realized he was doing it and stopped. “That’s before he started sniping at me any chance he got. Didn’t out me, though, so I guess there’s that.”
“That sucks, mate.” Oliver seemed to take a moment to digest things, frowning slightly. “How did he even find out?”
“I, uh.” And this was where it got embarrassing. “I called him pretty boy. Like, as a joke, yeah? But also kind of not as a joke.”
“Pretty boy?” Oliver echoed, his tone just a tad incredulous. Fair enough—Lee probably deserved that.
“I was twenty and confused and my only experience with guy-on-guy stuff had been porn, okay?”
“Pretty boy, though?” A smile twitched around Oliver’s wide mouth. “Maybe he just took offense at your poor attempt at flirting. Or he thought you were mocking him or something.”
Lee considered it. He didn’t think so, but it wasn’t like they’d known each other well. “I mean—maybe?”
“Well, does he definitely know you’re gay?”
“Why else would he have gone all weird?”
“I don’t know.” Oliver shrugged philosophically. “But did he actually come out and say it?”
Come out, ha. Not the time for puns.
“I mean…” Lee shifted. “It was implied.”
“Implied.” Oliver sounded rather unimpressed.
“Why else would he have gone all weird?” Lee repeated. It was his line and he was sticking with it. Too bad that defense had never been his strongest suit.
“I don’t know,” Oliver said, just like before. “Did you ask him?”
“Ask him whether he knew I had a big gay crush on him?” Lee scoffed. “Yeah, no. I’d barely admitted the word to myself—I wasn’t going to say it out loud.”
“Did you ask him why his behavior towards you had changed is what I meant.” Oliver made it sound obvious, his eyes kind, and Lee looked away after a moment.
“Just so you know? Marrying a psychiatrist has broken your ability to have a normal, bro-style conversation with a lot of manly grunting and awkwardly skirting around emotions.”
“Sorry for your loss.” Oliver sounded decidedly not sorry.
“No, you’re not.”
“True.” Oliver’s voice was light. “Makes me a better team captain though, doesn’t it?”
Valid.
Lee carded a hand through hair that was starting to grow out when he preferred it fairly short. He made a mental note to have his hairdresser visit before they left for Spain. “Okay,” he told Oliver. “I’ll take what you said into consideration.”
“Good.” Oliver smiled at him with all the pride of the additional four years he had on Lee. “Who knows—maybe you got it wrong. Jeff’s brother is gay, and I doubt he’d be great mates with Alex if there was a real issue there.”
Another valid point. Lee remembered Jeff being quite vocal about equality issues at the last World Cup, to the point where he’d nearly decked another player for a thoughtless comment that Lee couldn’t even remember.
It had been some minor everyday slight that Lee had grown immune to over the years, until he’d arrived in Manchester to a team where Ben Jimmer had banned that kind of talk.
“Maybe,” Lee allowed.
“I’m not saying become best friends with Alex, yeah? Just… try to get along, I guess. We’re all in this together.”
Someone knocked on their door to announce that lunch was ready. Lee called out a confirmation that they’d be right down before he turned back to Oliver. “Are you speaking as the captain right now, or as my friend?”
“That’s fair.” Oliver smiled. “A little bit of both, I suppose. You’ve got an almost guaranteed spot in the starting eleven, and I think Alex’s got a very good chance and could be a great asset to the team—if the two of you can figure out how to work together.”
“That’s if he doesn’t crack under pressure,” Lee pointed out. “He’s just twenty-three.”
“And you were, what, twenty-one when you made your World Cup debut?”
“You mean those final fifteen minutes in the last group match? Didn’t exactly turn the game around, did I?”
“You scored.”
“And we still got sent home.”
“We’ll do better this time.”
Lee cut Oliver a lopsided grin. “At least if we all manage to work together as a team—that’s what you were gonna say next, right?”
“And now I won’t have to.” Oliver grinned back. “Good talk, thanks for your openness. Let’s go have some lunch.”
After the discussion they’d just had, Lee didn’t feel particularly hungry, but he got up regardless and followed Oliver out of the room and down to the dining area.
They were among the last to arrive, with only a few free seats left at the table set out for the team, coaches, and supporting staff.
Fortunately, the table that held Alex and Jeff was already full.
Lee had promised to take Oliver’s words into consideration, and he would. Voluntarily sitting next to Alex would have gone above and beyond the call of duty, though. Also, Alex might have fainted with shock, and someone probably would have found a way to blame Lee for it.
No, Lee was just fine right here—between Oliver and Lewis, with a couple of tables and plenty of polished wood floor to separate him from Alex. Polite distance counted as progress, didn’t it?
Afternoon heat pressed down on the field as the production crew set up for the commercial, directed by a mouthy guy in his forties who was clad in a baseball cap and sunglasses.
Lee wasn’t sure on what basis Hops & Heritage Brewing had been chosen as the team’s main sponsor when encouraging drinking among fans wasn’t exactly on message.
Sure, they were advertising non-alcoholic beer, but that was a fig leaf at best.
Money talked, it seemed. Good thing the biggest offer hadn’t come from Philip Morris or Japan Tobacco.
“And action!” the director called.
Kieran led the team through a series of drills and sprints while cameras were swarming around them.
Once the director and crew were satisfied with the amount of footage, the team was motioned over to a cooler filled with ice cubes and the sponsor’s non-alcoholic beer.
Lee grabbed a bottle, condensation cool against his palm, and took an exaggerated sip as a camera zoomed in on his face.
The beer wasn’t entirely terrible, at least.
“Look fresh, folks!” the director barked out. “All the taste, none of the buzz!”
Lee took another sip, then followed instructions to toast some of the other players—clinking bottles with Oliver, forming a little triangle with Oliver and Jeff as they threw their heads back in fake laughter, beers raised.
Alex was motioned over to join them a moment later which Lee should have expected given that Alex’s looks, charm, and aristocratic upbringing made him a fan favorite.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, laughing and carefully not looking at each other even as they toasted to victory, team spirit, and celebrating responsibly.
It set the tone for the coming days.
By all appearances, Alex had been subjected to a similar intervention as Lee because he seemed perfectly content to skirt around Lee the same way Lee skirted around him with hardly even a nod.
Whenever Kieran paired them up, they worked in concentrated silence, and during matches they managed to avoid clashing too openly when facing off against each other and succeeded in the occasional one-two when on the same team.
Maybe you got it wrong.
It was possible. But Lee wasn’t sure it really mattered at this point—they wouldn’t become the best of mates even if it turned out they’d gotten their signals crossed. That ship had set sail years ago, so far gone by now that it wasn’t even visible anymore on the horizon.
So what if Kieran seemed to watch them closely? So what if they lagged behind everyone else during an exercise that required navigating a blindfolded partner through an obstacle course using only verbal cues? Someone had to come in last, and anyway, there were eleven players on a team.
Lee didn’t see why it had to be a problem.