Out of the Closet
by Victor Thomas
Chapter 8
Chris
I was lined up at the line of scrimmage with four of my teammates. We were facing the defense, waiting for the coach to blow his whistle, ready to start the play. My breathing was focused and I stared at the boy across from me, ready to stop him and the rest of the defense from breaking through and sacking our quarterback. Although it was just practice and we were playing against our own teammates, I knew how much performing well would help me with a scholarship.
We were practicing running the ball, passing and receiving, and the fact that statistically the quarterback had less than a twenty percent chance to score made it nerve wracking. I'm not going to fail, I thought, adrenaline pumping through my body. I glanced at the coach who nodded at me.
The whistle blew, and I made some feinting moves as I ran down the field. Our quarterback, Jason, fell back, looked around, avoiding a couple of the opposing team, and saw that I was open. He passed the ball and it fell right into my arms and I ran to the thirty-five-yard line before I was finally tackled. The other guys cheered me on as I jogged back to them.
"That was excellent," Coach Barrett yelled from the sideline. "The rest of you guys prepare and follow Chris' example."
I tried to keep my face nonchalant, but I was beaming inside. There weren't many things I excelled at in high school, but football was one of them.
"Well done," Javier said, patting me on the shoulder.
I nodded. I hadn't made up my mind yet what I thought about him. Cleaning the locker room a couple of days ago was still vividly in my mind. To his credit, he had behaved like the shower room incident never happened.
He was still standing next to me and I saw that Bryan was observing us while I walked back to the rest of the guys.
"Hunter and Bryan, come here!" the coach motioned for them to stand together and continued pairing us off for the last half hour of practice. "Chris and Javier, take that side of the field," he continued.
I saw the smirk on Bryan's face and my heart thudded. I knew exactly what he thought and feared the others felt the same way. The locker room had been especially silent before practice as soon as Javier had entered. Only Jason tried to maintain a positive mood, but he hadn't fully succeeded in that.
Why on earth did the coach choose me to practice with the gay guy, I thought, but I followed Javier to where the coach asked us to go. I was sure the coach was tormenting me on purpose.
The whistle blew, and we leapt forward into the last of our exercises. Javier and me kept running and passing the ball to each other until sweat was glaring from our skin in the hot sun. Now and then I studied his face, but I couldn't read anything else other than complete focus on the ball as I passed it back to him.
When we finished thirty minutes later, everyone drained their water bottles that had been sitting in a cooler full of ice. Half the water went in our mouths, and the other half on our heads, dripping down our bodies. Most of the guys stripped their shirts off, basking in the cool breeze that was finally blowing through. I noticed a couple of the guys glancing at Javier, checking if he reacted to their shirtless bodies. He, however, seemed unfazed.
I would've never guessed he's gay, I thought. At least I was able to breathe normally after practice. I squirted the last bit of water into my mouth and saw Jason approaching.
He wrapped his arms around mine and Javier's shoulders, pulling the three of us together, and hummed cheerfully.
"You guys did great today," he said. "We're so going to win the game next week."
I agreed. The countless hours I had practiced at school and over the summer were paying off. It felt great that my teammates had noticed it too. Imagining myself in a college uniform, I made a mental note to talk to Coach Barrett about a letter of recommendation for a scholarship.
"Not so sure about myself, but Chris is our real superstar," Javier said, and patted my arm.
It was a simple short touch, but it made me uncomfortable. I excused myself, took a couple of steps aside, and began fixing the laces of my shoes. Luckily, Jason and Javier didn't stop, but continued walking toward the locker room. Someone else waited for me, however.
"He seems to like you," Bryan winked and glanced ahead at Javier.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I said, standing up.
"Calm down, dude. I'm just saying you're quite a queer magnet. First Kenny and now Javier."
"Shut up! Kenny's not gay!"
"Are you blind or something?" he said.
He made his best imitation of Kenny's manners, swinging his hips and limping his wrists.
The show annoyed me, and I wondered why Bryan couldn't keep his mouth shut. First, Kenny didn't look at all like what Bryan showed. Second, he had a girlfriend. My best friend wasn't necessarily interested in sports, but there was nothing gay in him.
"Maybe Coach made you practice together since you're a good match," he said, lowering his voice. "Or was it you who asked to be his partner," he added.
"Screw you," I replied.
"Watch out. He might fantasize about you in the showers now that you're such good friends."
"Fuck you! It wasn't my decision to practice with that faggot," I said, raising my voice.
I realized it was a mistake only when everybody stopped and turned to look at me. Javier glared at me, and even I had to admit he had all the right to be angry with me. Jason stood next to him like a bodyguard and was about to say something, but Bryan was quicker.
"How can you say something like that about our teammate?" he asked, a shocked expression on his face.
"What…" I managed to say before the coach interrupted me.
"To my office. Right now!" Coach Barrett said, his face as hard as stone.
I had a fair idea that it wasn't my scholarship the coach wanted to talk about. I tossed my water bottle on the ground and followed him, more embarrassed than angry.
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