Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
I loved him and wanted to be with him, but what if I took this on and he got traded? I wasn’t sure I could be without him, having a relationship where we didn’t feel like a unit, the way it had been with Bobby.
On the other hand, it wasn’t as if Darren had asked me if I would go with him if he had to leave. Hell, he hadn’t asked me to officially move in with him in Atlanta either. When I asked him when he would know what was happening next season, he said it definitely wouldn’t be until after the Super Bowl. Free agency usually ended in March, but it wasn’t guaranteed he’d have an answer then. He might not get signed right away, but someone could pick him up later. I didn’t see that happening. Darren was too good, one of the best in the league; he’d played his greatest season before his injury. Being in a relationship with a man and breaking an arm couldn’t change that much, could it? With sports, you never knew, but I kept telling myself someone would want him. A lot of someones would want him. We just didn’t know where.
I’d started to look around for a place of my own, just in case. If Darren left Atlanta and didn’t ask me to go, I didn’t plan on moving back to California, not permanently, at least.
Conners was playing excellent football, though. He’d really stepped up in Darren’s absence, which made the prospect of a trade higher.
Clearly, I was doing nothing but obsessing over the damn future.
And when Conners played a killer game, helping the Lightning squash their opponents in the conference championships, I was even more unsure, even more nervous. All we knew was Atlanta would be playing in the Super Bowl without Darren.
Chapter Thirty
Darren
February
“Oh shit!” I said when Kordell drained a three-point shot. We’d met up at a park in my neighborhood. Most everyone left me alone around here, and it was on the other side of the city from where he lived, so it felt pretty safe to be out in public together. If anyone approached, we could just fake it like we were two random people at the court together. They didn’t have a hoop at the center, something I planned to change so we could play there. A lot of good conversations and important thoughts happened shooting a basketball.
“That was a badass shot!” he replied.
“Hell yeah, it was.”
I really enjoyed these times with him. They fulfilled me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed so much. The kid was fucking awesome, and supporting him, being there for him and him giving me his trust, meant the world to me.
He threw me the ball, and I dribbled before driving down the lane for a layup. My arm was still healing, but it was getting stronger every day.
“How’s everything going?” I asked.
Kordell shrugged. “All right, I guess. My girl’s been…you know, trying to go all the way.” Shit. At fifteen. His eyes darted away, his embarrassment clear. “But I don’t wanna, ya know? I mean, maybe I’d realize I like it? Maybe it’ll help? But it just feels like such a fuckin’ betrayal… On the other hand, why hold out on the inevitable? Manda is a good girl. I’ll probably stick with her.”
This was so hard. As honored as I was that Kordell had chosen me, I didn’t always feel like the right person to talk to him. Anson had experienced the same things Kordell had. I’d had it easy. I loved women. I’d always loved women. I’d never wanted a man until Jeremy, and I’d just jumped in with him. I figured Kordell had come to me instead of Anson because we were both Black, so we’d have other similar experiences.
“You don’t gotta do that, ya know? Even if you’re not ready to come out, you don’t have to have a girl, or have sex. Look at Anson. He never had long-term relationships. Not that I want you to be alone, I just…don’t want you to do something that will hurt you more—inside. That will make you feel bad about yourself.”
He nodded. I tossed him the ball, and he shot, nailing it again, and then I caught it. He said, “I wish I were as brave as you.”
“I’m not brave. I think what you’re doing is pretty fucking courageous. You know who you are. You told me. You came to the center to reach out. Those are all heroic actions. It was different for me because I didn’t know until Jeremy. Even so, I’m scared all the damn time.” It wasn’t until I said those words that I realized how true they were. I was so fucking afraid.
“Of what?”
“Of screwing up. Of losing him. Of not being good enough. Of not healing well. Of not getting signed. Of subconsciously blaming him when he’s the most important person in my world. Of getting traded and having to move and Jeremy not wanting to come with me.” How could I expect him to uproot his whole life? “Of ending up on a new team and having to figure out how to play without Anson. Of how to be the queer guy on a team without him, and not being ready to walk away from the game either. That I’ll let things people say get to me—whether on the street or at a game. There’s always something to fear, but…there’s always so damn much good out there too.”