Chapter 15 #2
“It sure was.” He shakes his head as he stands and walks to the window. He seems to need some time, so I don't rush into the conversational gap he leaves.
“What, uh, what made you decide to come out?”
This is not what I expect to hear from him. At one point it had seemed like everyone and their mother knew what happened; it’s so odd to think how much time has erased the memory.
I take a deep breath and consider my options. I could walk out, but I know that would put an end to this – both the friendship and the whatever else – for good. I could lie. But if anyone deserves the truth, it's Ethan.
“I...didn't.”
This gets his attention and he turns to look at me.
“You didn't?”
“Am I or am I not speaking to someone with an almost pathological fear of being forced out of the closet? You know it happens as well as anyone.”
His eyes widen, and for a moment, running out the door really seems like my best option.
I fall back on the bed with a sigh. He keeps looking at me, that dark, serious look on his face.
“So all those times I gave you shit for choosing to be the first out player and getting yourself into this…you didn’t?”
This is one of the reasons I haven’t told him, in spite of how much time we’ve been spending together. Now that I know him better, I knew he’d blame himself.
“Well, I chose to keep playing hockey, so there’s that.”
“What…what happened?”
And here’s the other reason — the story isn’t exactly one I’m fond of telling. I take a deep breath.
“Did you know I was supposed to declare for the draft in high school? Had an agent lined up and everything. I was a little old for my grade and had filled out well — was supposed to go pretty high.”
First overall. I was supposed to go first overall.
“I…no. I knew you were…older…in this draft, but I figured you just wanted to get your degree.”
“Nah. I was thrilled to play hockey. And because I knew what I did about professional hockey, I’d decided to remain…circumspect…about my sexuality.”
“Listen, college boy, I’m gonna need you to define that for me.“
“I was in the closet. And happily.”
The look of shock on his face is almost painful to me.
“So…what happened?”
“I was dating this guy. Josh. I mean, dating is probably a really generous term for it. I thought we were just fucking around.”
He frowns at this.
“What did he think?”
I bite my lip.
“I’m…not sure. Sometimes he totally seemed to understand my point of view, but other times…I think he wanted more, but didn’t know how to ask for it. If he even could ask for it.”
Ethan nods silently.
“Anyway, the spring leading up to my draft, I realized I needed to focus on hockey. Get my mind in the game. And that I probably needed to back off on the fucking around for the time being. Be extra safe.”
Ethan nods again and I know he understands better than literally anyone.
“But, well…I was eighteen and horny.”
Ethan snorts at this.
“We make terrible decisions when we’re eighteen and horny.”
I give him a half-smile, wondering what choices he’d made.
“Anyway, I kept going back to him. I’d say it needed to stop and then a week or a month later, I’d show up at his house after practice.”
Ethan’s shoulders are tensing up and I can tell he knows this story is about to take a turn.
I wish I didn’t have to tell this story. But I think Ethan deserves to know the reality of it, and this is the only way for him to hear it. I take a deep breath.
“One weekend I showed up after a tournament. Our last two games had gone to overtime, and we’d won in a shootout on my goal. I was this weird blend of nearly dead from exhaustion and absolutely exhilarated. When Josh texted to let me know his parents were out of town, I just had to go over.”
I think Ethan knows it’s coming; as he leans against the dresser, a look of worry comes over his face.
“So of course I blew my nut and fell asleep…and he took a picture of us in bed together.”
Ethan looks horrified.
“Not that kind of picture. Just, you know, cuddling together. Posted it to Instagram. So lucky to have him. Tagged me in it.”
Somehow, even five years later, I can still remember the oily feel of shame.
“So, I fell asleep in the closet and woke up out of the closet. Shit got around fast. My agent terminated our relationship by the end of the day. The teams who’d expressed interest unexpressed it. And the worst part is, I still don’t know why.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, did he do it to hurt me? He could’ve just blackmailed me, I’d have figured it out. Or did he…did he actually think he was lucky to have me? Did he just want other people to know?”
Shit. I can feel the tears burning in the back of my eyes. This is the thing that gets me – I don’t even know who the bad guy is in this story. Is it me?
“But…you kept playing.”
I drag my hand down, looking at him just a bit.
“Yeah.”
“In spite of all that, you keep playing.”
I nod.
“And you did get drafted.”
“I did. Whether that’s a good thing remains to be seen.”
“It…it was a good thing for me.”
I lift my eyebrow at him. “That’s not what you were saying in September.”
“I was a dumbass in September. More importantly, I was alone in September. I didn’t know that there was even the possibility of not being alone, of not being the only one. You changed that for me.”
I appreciate his vulnerability, but at the same time I want to step away from it.
“Aw, you’re just saying that because you like getting off on my abs.”
It’s clear that I’ve picked the wrong words, the echo of what happened last night ringing heavy in this hotel.
He walks over to the bed where I still lay, eyes closed.
I feel the bed dip with his weight, and for a moment I expect to feel his hands on me – my abs, my pecs, my dick.
For a moment, I think that's what I want – the distraction of his body on mine.
Instead, I feel his fingers running through my hair, softly carding through the strands. I open my eyes and almost immediately meet his.
“That's not why, Jamie.”
And for the first time in five years, I allow myself to cry for that kid.