5. Marcus
5
MARCUS
S tanding up to Jake and Ryan wasn't easy. They were not just teammates; they were part of the football family that had welcomed me when I transferred. I didn't take their support for granted, and I knew the potential fallout from challenging them. But what they were doing to Caleb was wrong. And I couldn't stand by and let it happen.
As I paced in my room, waiting for Caleb to arrive for our tutoring session, the memory of that confrontation played over in my mind. The shock on Jake and Ryan's faces, the hushed silence that fell over the hallway, the quiet gratitude in Caleb's eyes - it all swirled together in a mix of emotions I was still trying to sort out.
It wasn't just about defending Caleb; it was about standing up for what was right. I wanted to find someone to have a serious relationship with, but being an openly bisexual athlete was career suicide. It wasn't good for business, especially in a school that was predominantly Black. Black people were extremely hard on their own kind when it came to sexuality, but that was a topic for another conversation.
I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling covered in glow-in-the-dark stars I'd put up years ago. They reminded me of simpler times, before I had to worry about scholarships, team dynamics, and hiding who I really was. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to remember the first time I saw Caleb.
The minute I laid eyes on him, my heart pitter-pattered, and I felt like a kid in a candy store. Here was this lean, skinny kid with a smile that would brighten up anyone's day, wearing a gay pride shirt perfectly coordinated with his rainbow chucks. He was the guy I was too afraid to be. He was unapologetically himself, and I admired that. He was intelligent and confident, and I wanted to know him better. But I had to keep my feelings in check; I couldn't afford any distractions.
An entire week had passed, and I barely saw Caleb because of late-night practices and church services with my mom. But tonight was the night we got to be alone, and I was definitely looking forward to it. I offered to have the tutoring session at my house because my mother was hosting a Bible study at church. When I got home, I made some chocolate chip cookies and poured a couple of glasses of milk. I'd read in last year's yearbook that Caleb loved chocolate chip cookies and oat milk, and I hoped he would get the hint that I liked him because I wasn't great at communicating my feelings.
I looked at my watch. It was thirty minutes to 7:00 p.m. My stomach was a knot of nerves and excitement. I decided to take a quick shower to calm myself down and freshen up. As the warm water cascaded over me, I tried to sort through my jumbled thoughts. On one hand, I was excited to spend time with Caleb, to get to know him better outside of school. On the other hand,
I was terrified of the consequences if anyone found out about my feelings. My scholarship, my place on the team, my relationship with my mom - everything could be jeopardized.
I stepped out of the shower, dried off, and stood in front of the mirror. The face that looked back at me was a mask I'd worn for so long - the confident quarterback, the good son, the straight guy. But underneath, there was another Marcus trying to break free. A Marcus who wanted to be honest about who he was, who he liked, what he felt.
I threw on a pair of gray sweats. The smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air, and I hoped Caleb would appreciate the gesture. I wanted him to feel welcome, to see that there was more to me than just the jock stereotype.
At 6:55, the doorbell rang. My heart leapt into my throat. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. "I'll be right there," I called out, my voice sounding strangely high to my own ears.
I quickly lit some incense, hoping to create a calm atmosphere. Then, feeling slightly ridiculous but unable to help myself, I did ten quick push-ups to give my chest a good pump. I sprayed some peppermint breath spray into my mouth, took one final deep breath, and opened the door.
The guy of my dreams stood on my doorstep with his purple and yellow backpack, matching chucks, and khaki shorts that complimented his hairy legs and defined calves. My heart was beating like a little schoolgirl about to meet her boy band crush.
"Come in and welcome to my humble abode," I said, cringing internally at how formal I sounded.