5. Jonah
CHAPTER FIVE
jonah
I find myself holding my breath all day until it’s time for practice. I don’t know if what I said got through to Calvin, and I still have absolutely no idea why I seem to care so much. But there’s something . . .
Something in the way he looked at me that told me that no matter what the outcome, I was in the right place at that time. That he needed to hear he could come back.
And in the locker room after school, I realize I was right when I see Calvin walk in, bag slung over his massive shoulder as he walks to his locker. He opens up his gym bag and gathers his practice clothes in his beefy hands. My eyes aren’t the only ones on him.
Everyone watches him, and when my brother walks through those doors a minute later, I’m not the only one holding my breath anymore.
Everyone goes quiet as they wait for Micah to say something, to kick him out or to yell.
But all he does is offer a small smile in Calvin’s direction, and then in mine. Then he heads into his office.
“This is such horseshit,” Adler says, his annoyance seeping out of him, but Calvin doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t acknowledge him at all before yanking his shirt off, and that’s my cue to look away because damn—the guy is my type.
Way too much my type. Big and burly with chest hair between his pecs. Not defined abs, but a solid belly with a thick trail from his belly button down into his jeans, leading to what I can only imagine is an impressive dick.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
I keep my eyes away from Mr. Left Tackle and hurry to get dressed into my own shorts and T-shirt before hauling ass onto the practice field. It’s hot as balls out here today, but being from Texas, I’m used to the heat.
I grab a quick swig from my water bottle and run to where the assistant coach is shouting warm-up drills.
Calvin is the last to join us, but when he does, he goes right into it.
Part of me wants to make a quip about him not letting me land on my back today, but honestly, it sends too many dirty thoughts through my brain, so I settle on focusing on what the coach is shouting.
Micah is working with defense for most of the practice, but toward the end, he stalks toward Calvin, who, by the way, has blocked for me quite well today. I think we could make a damn good team actually.
That’s why I’m wondering what Micah will say. I mean, he’s done his job. There’s no reason for him to be wearing the scowl he is. But as he approaches, his face softens.
“Duke.” He stops a foot in front of Calvin, and I swear he’s holding his breath too.
Does he think Micah will kick him off the field?
I mean, he wouldn’t let him practice almost the whole time just to kick him out now.
He’s not cruel. And that would just be a dick move.
“Come to my office after practice.” Calvin gives a quick, measured nod, and Micah smiles at him warmly before patting him on the shoulder once. “Glad you’re back.”
I don’t miss the relieved look on Calvin’s face but don’t dare say a word right now. He’s back, but the guy is on edge. And of course, his friends on the team don’t miss the opportunity to fuck with him.
“That’s it?” Adler asks, sidling up to Calvin’s side and putting his what I can only imagine is a sweaty-as-fuck arm over his shoulder.
“You leave practice, practically bawling your eyes out, and then just show up today with nothing to say. And all Coach just says is Glad you’re back? What the fuck?”
“Seriously, if any one of us did that, we’d be off the team for sure,” Adler’s little sidekick, Shields, says with a cocky stance right next to me, propping his elbow up on my shoulder as if we’re besties now, facing Adler and Calvin.
Shields looks at me. “Well, I mean I guess you could probably get away with that too. Huh, Coach’s little brother? ”
Does he think he’s being clever? What a stupid nickname.
Calvin pushes Adler’s arm off him, and I take the moment to scoot away from Shields, letting his sweaty, gross arm fall off my shoulder. “Let’s just finish practice.”
I’m in agreement, but of course, Adler and Shields want nothing to do with that, and Adler has to open his big stupid mouth again.
“I just want to know what you had to do to get back on the team after all that, Duke. I mean, Coach must really like you.” He waggles his eyebrows in an obnoxious way that makes me want to deck him. “Like really, really like you.”
I watch as Calvin clenches his jaw tight and flexes his hands at his sides, but he doesn’t fight back. He doesn’t say anything.
Well, I’m not going to stay silent. “What the hell are you trying to say about my brother?”
That makes Adler grin and Shields cackle like a hyena.
“Listen, man.” Adler places his heavy hand on my shoulder, and again, I want to lay his ass out, but now is not the time to get suspended from the team or the school, so I remain calm, staring at the meaty hand on my shoulder with disdain.
“You have to watch Calvin here. He’s a very curious guy. ”
“Fuck off, Adler,” Calvin growls, and I’m honestly surprised he said anything. How he can be so quiet through all their jabs is beyond me. But also . . . why do they always go back to the curious thing?
The way they say it . . . there’s no other way to take it but curious about other guys.
Gay. Bi. Something. I’m used to the word gay being thrown around as an insult.
I’ve heard it most of my life, growing up around jocks thinking they’re clever and tossing out something insulting by insinuating a fellow jock likes guys.
But I don’t think that’s what this is. As appalling as both are, I think this is . . . different.
They know something.
They’ve seen something.
And they’ve held onto it, torturing this guy. I look over at Calvin and see the shame written on his face. The fear. Could he be . . .
I never assume someone’s identity. I believe sexuality is fluid and our own damn business. But the way he looks right now, like he could puke—it angers me like nothing else. If he is gay or pan or bisexual or any other identity, how dare these motherfuckers use it against him? Try to hurt him.
“Aw, I’m sorry I’m not into you, Duke. You don’t have to get all testy,” Adler says with a mean smirk, just begging for the fight.
Calvin’s cheeks go so red, he looks like a tomato, and it’s not just from the heat. Part of me wants to see Calvin punch his stupid face to knock that grin right off it, but the other part of me needs my left tackle for the season.
So I say something. “What the hell would he want you for? He can see and smell.” I sniff the air, kind of hating that I did because I’m not kidding, the stench coming from him is not pleasant. “Surely he has better taste than that.”
I watch Adler’s right eye tick slightly as he steps closer to me.
“Well, I’m not gay, so that’s fine with me.
” I roll my eyes at him, but I’ve struck a nerve, and he’s losing his calm, teasing composure, moving straight to angry.
“But I’m guessing big brother must have been enticed by him, because why else would he allow Duke back on the team?
I think maybe something must have gone down. ”
“You mean, Duke must have gone down,” Shields adds with a menacing laugh.
Adler laughs right along with him, and I want to punch his face—consequences be damned, but it’s Calvin who speaks now. “Coach is married, dickhead. To a woman.”
“Maybe she doesn’t put out,” Adler says, shrugging his shoulder, and I see red. That’s Jenna he’s talking about. Sweet, smart, loyal Jenna. I nearly pull my hand back for my hand to make acquaintance with his stupid face, when a loud whistle blows and makes me stop.
“Showers! Now!” It’s Micah’s voice, but I don’t think he heard. He sounds way too calm and cool about it to have heard anything. Trust me, he doesn’t play when it comes to Jenna or his girls.
I glare at Adler and Shields, but they just take off, laughing like the idiots they are, and I stand there for a second, trying to lower my blood pressure before I have a stroke.
Calvin just stares at me for a minute, his head cocked to the side, like he’s trying to figure me out. But I’m not in the mood for that shit.
I walk past him and head for the showers, every part of me on high alert and still ready for a fight.
Luckily, Adler and Shields leave me the hell alone, and I’m thankful for it. I don’t know what my problem is.
Bullies, I can handle. I’ve handled them all my life, but seeing Calvin getting pushed around like that . . . bullied when he doesn’t fight back at all—this huge, impressive guy.
It just doesn’t make sense to me, and if he won’t stand up for himself . . . Well, I guess that’s now my job.