Chapter 22
Kyle
“I don’t think we should sleep together,” I hear myself saying. “You heard what the boss said. We need to be focused.”
I don’t want to look at AJ. I know I’ve broken him again, and I can’t help it.
I can’t help saying the things I say. At times it feels like there is something inside me, sabotaging all that is good.
It wants me to suffer. It wants me to feel alone and unloved.
And yet, I feed it. I nurture it. And I don’t dare to admit this at night, but I think, sometimes, I crave it.
I need to keep my focus on my family. Whatever keeps them safe.
Whatever the costs to my personal life. The conflict inside me is begging me to be brave.
But I can’t. I’m already fighting enough battles in my mind.
“Can we try and focus on how incredible this journey is? Me and you, playing for England. Playing for Union and for…City. We are living our dreams.” I try to steer the topic into a different direction. I may be an ass, but I don’t like hurting AJ.
“And we could be the first ever gay couple in the men's league,” he says, and I look at him, finally. His eyes are full of hope. I don’t deserve his love. I don’t deserve his trust.
“Do you really think we’ll be accepted?” There’s a sharp tone in my voice and something quickly flashes in AJ’s eyes. I don’t like that I’ve hurt him—keep hurting him—but I can’t help it.
“Do you really care? For every nameless profile online calling us a fag, there’s thousands at home, cheering us on.
There’re people like us, afraid to come out, thanking us for being brave enough to make the step.
But here’s the thing, Kyle. I don’t want to do this alone.
I need you by my side. I need you on this journey.
” Tears are in his eyes; he reaches for my hands, and I take them.
His hands are much bigger than mine, and I watch them engulf mine.
He rubs the top of my hand with his thumb.
“I...I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
“Ky,” his eyes are pleading.
“Can you at least give me some time?”
“Of course! I wasn’t planning on declaring our love to the world tomorrow.”
My heart gets jammed in my chest. He loves me? I blink at him. How in the world can someone like him love me? He’s funny and kind, and the life of, well, everything. And I’m, I’m just me. I go around with a face of thunder, and I’m constantly living in my head. What can he possibly see in me?
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. I didn’t realize, that’s all.”
“Realize what?” His thumb is still rubbing the back of my hand, and he’s shuffled closer to me. I can feel his breath on my face. His eyes are the perfect shade of mahogany in this light.
“That you, um, that you love me,” I say it quickly, and now I want to bury my head in the sand like a stupid Ostrich…but I read somewhere that’s actually a myth. So I’ll bury my head in the pillows, thank-you-very-much.
“Of course, I do. I don’t want to scare you off, but I always have.
It’s always been you, Ky. Always. And I know you.
I know you’re thinking you don’t deserve love.
I know you feel you’re unworthy of it. But know this: you are.
If you saw what I see when I look at you on a daily basis, you would understand.
So, I’m going to spend the rest of my time with you, helping you realize it, if you’ll let me. ”
Words. What are they? I feel floaty. My heart feels full. He’s the only person who sees me for who I am.
“I...” I stutter like a fool.
“You don’t have to say anything now. I’m not going anywhere. Unless you say you don’t want to be with me, of course.” He laughs nervously.
Forgoing words, I close the distance between us and brush my lips against his. We fall back onto the bed, and our lips become one.
Sometime after our third time, I volunteer to go downstairs to get something to eat, to restore our energies.
AJ has valiantly decided to come with me because we’re “more famous now” and he doesn't want me to “get mugged,” or worse, have me “talk to someone.” I swear he thinks all I do when he’s not around is grunt and scowl.
I mean, he’s not wrong, but he doesn’t have to come for me that hard.
One of the perks of being a football prodigy is everyone feels inclined to say yes to you.
You want a steak cooked at 11 pm? Sure, no problem.
Protein shake with obscure ingredients? Yep, no problem.
I initially felt bad for using our status, but then I thought about all the people who have made homophobic comments online and in the stands.
And, well, yeah, I want a steak and protein shake.
“This steak is amazing,” AJ says in between mouthfuls.
We’re in a semi-deserted section of the hotel restaurant, no one is near us, but I still scold him for talking with his mouth open. Honestly, what a heathen.
I finish a mouthful, wipe my lips with the thick napkin provided, and say, “It’s pretty good, yeah.”
“Pretty good? Come on, Ky.”
I swear, every time he says that nickname, butterflies erupt in my stomach. The walls around my heart are being reduced to rubble, and roses are growing in their place.
“I’m not saying it’s bad.”
“But for a steak at eleven at night? I’d say it's more than pretty good.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but I stand by my words. The protein shake is great, though. I’m going to send Trish a picture of it.”
“Do you send all the girls pictures of your protein shakes?” he asks, raising his eyebrows seductively.
“Why does that sound like a euphemism coming from you?”
A playful smirk blooms on his lips. “Coming from me? Again? Oh, Kyle…” he literally purrs. This fucking guy. This brilliant, amazing guy that I’m head over heels with. If only I had the words to tell him how I feel.
Training the next day is great, just what I needed, especially after the verbal abuse I got from Trish this morning telling me how uncultured my taste buds are if I prefer anyone else’s shakes rather than hers.
I told her she sounds a little conceited, as a joke!
But she took it poorly. She said she’s going to feed me nothing but edamame beans for the rest of the week and hung up.
Banter is going around still about AJ’s look, and from what I can tell, it’s all good spirits.
I’m in awe of him, how he exudes confidence in everything he does.
Why do I feel the need to close myself off from the world and build my walls ten feet high.
I have no idea how AJ has reduced mine, but he has.
And I’m pretty sure he always has—even when we were younger, I could be myself around him, my true self.
Is that what love is? Being authentically you with the person you choose to let in?
Reality drags me away from warm, happy thoughts as the boss has us doing burpees. I still want to destroy the person who invented them. Total cock, is what that person is. They should be forced to do ten thousand of them in the baking sun.
“Right, everyone, huddle up. Quickly now,” the boss calls out, cutting through the general chit chat in the cold morning air.
“As you know, our next friendly is against Brazil, so I want your A game. All of you. I want your hunger. How you perform in this game, along with your club form, will help me decide who plays in the Global Cup. And don’t forget,” he says, and I swear, he’s now burning a hole in AJ and me.
“Best behavior outside of football too. I don’t want to see your faces splashed on the front pages of the red tops. ”
So, that message is crystal clear then.
“Team sheets will go up in one hour. Until then, I want you all doing laps around the field followed by shooting practice.”
Running—now we’re talking. I quickly break ahead of the rest of the pack, letting the wind play with my hair. I look behind me, and the closest people to me are AJ and Bradley, battling it out for second place. If I wasn’t a footballer, I would have become a runner, that’s for sure.
Once I wait for everyone to catch their breaths back, I head over to the nets where the goalkeepers are and start banging balls into hard-to-reach corners.
I’m feeling great today, like there’s an extra spring in my step.
I can feel the boss’ eyes on me. I don’t dare turn around; I just hope he likes what he sees.
AJ is also putting on a show, and that makes me smile too.
I put all the extra shit in the back of my mind.
Whatever this thing with AJ is, it is bringing other stuff to the surface that I haven’t dealt with in forever.
Perhaps with him by my side, I can confront it.
I just don’t want the world to bite my family.
They can take chunks out of me, but please, not them.
Being with AJ puts them directly at risk.