Page 8 of The Swap Masquerade

When I was finished, I looked up at him and smiled. “This is the best one yet.”

His grin stretched across his entire face. “You really think so?”

“I do. I especially liked the part where the two dragons were battling each other. It had me on the edge of my seat, wondering who was going to win,” I answered honestly.

“Yeah, that was my favorite part too.”

Mom’s voice wandered up the stairs, letting us know dinner was ready. I waited as Trey put the notebook back on his desk and then the two of us headed downstairs. Dad walked in as we were finishing setting the table. At 6’4” he was only slightly taller than me, but his shoulders were much broader, his arms a massive display of muscles.

As a full-time firefighter, he had to stay physically fit in order to do his job. Years of hauling heavy fire hoses and running up long flights of steps had given him the look of a linebacker, but he also enjoyed running, swimming, and lifting weights. Playing on the station’s softball team against other local fire departments kept him in shape as well and was where I had first developed my love of the sport.

Some of my youngest memories as a kid were of me cheering for him at his games. I’d run onto the field whenever his team won, and he’d plop his ballcap onto my head and swing me up onto his shoulders. He was my hero then and I’d wanted to be exactly like him when I grew up.

Dad couldn’t wait to sign me up for T-ball as soon as I was old enough and I couldn’t wait to make him proud. Every night, rain or shine we would go out in the back yard and toss a ball back and forth. He gave me tips on ways to improve and I worked hard to fine-tune my skills. There was so much pride in his eyes when I was the only freshman in high school to make the varsity team.

That was when things began to change. Dad started taking my future in baseball very seriously, pushing me to be stronger, faster, better than any of the other guys on the team. Suddenly, the sport I’d always loved was no longer fun, it was a job.

At the same time, I was starting to question my sexuality. While all my friends had been checking out the girls in school, I’d been checking my friends out instead. It was confusing and scary, and it hurt to know I couldn’t go to my dad with any of it. He’d always been my best friend, but I knew there was no way he’d understand the things I was feeling. He was a man’s man, the true definition of what it meant to be a straight, masculine male in America. How could he ever relate to the knowledge that his son liked boys the way other guys liked girls?

The fear of losing him, of never seeing that look of pride in his eyes again, was enough for me to keep my silence. So, I’d continued playing ball, pretending it was still as important to me as it had been when I was little. I never argued when he pushed me to work harder, never spoke up when he got after me for losing a game. I never said a word, but inside, I was starting to crumble.

The only time I’d ever pushed back was when I stood up to him and told him I wanted to go to Bradbury instead of a bigger college. I knew he wasn’t happy about the decision, but I had my reasons and I refused to budge. The main reason was I wanted to stay close to Trey. I didn’t want to miss out on four years of his life while I was off at some far away college. My parents hadn’t been able to argue much with that logic, although my dad had sulked for nearly a month after I signed on with the Bradbury Eagles.

The other reason and the one I hadn’t bothered to tell my parents, was that I simply didn’t want to attend a D1 college. Division 1 schools boasted the most elite teams in sports. They always had the best equipment, the best fields, and the best players and coaches. But along with the prestige and opportunities provided by being on a D1 team, came a lot of pressure. Pressure to always excel and perform at the best of your abilities. D1 players were at the top of their game and therefore were expected to provide the school with many wins.

I’d spent my life pushing myself and working harder than anyone else in order to make my father proud and by the time I’d graduated high school, I’d been tired of it. I wanted to see what else the world had to offer and to focus on studying something that would make me happy. I agreed to play ball for Bradbury because a full scholarship had been too much to pass up, but it wasn’t what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. The only problem was I had yet to explain any of that to my dad.

We sat down at the table and began passing the food around. I grabbed a pork chop off the platter then asked Mom to pass the butter and salt to put on my baked potato. Trey sat across from me and I swallowed a grin as I saw him picking the cherry tomatoes out of his salad. He’d always hated them, but Mom insisted on putting them in his salads. I think she was hoping he might suddenly decide to like them one day. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that probably wasn’t going to happen.

“How’s the team looking this year?” I turned to my father, watching as he cut into his pork chop and took a bite.

“Good. We have a strong outfield. I think they’ll be able to stop a lot of balls from getting past them.”

“Yeah, well, if you’re doing your job right, you’ll be able get them out before that even happens.”

“Yes, Dad.”

He pointed his fork at me, speaking sternly. “This is your final season. You can be sure scouts will be coming around, although not nearly as many as you’d get at a bigger school. I’m telling you; you would’ve had a lot better chance at getting into the Minors if you’d gone to a D1 school. Scouts know those teams are the best and that’s where they focus their attention.” He shook his head, muttering something about Bradbury College being a waste of time, but I chose to ignore it. We’d been down that road many times, there was no need to rehash it.

“How’s Adam doing? Is he still seeing that girl?” Mom asked, referring to my roommate. I hid my smile at her obvious attempt at changing the subject.

“He’s good and yes, he and Rachel are still together.”

Mom smiled. “She seemed so lovely when we met her.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool. Not nearly as annoying as some of the other girls he’s dated in the past.”

“And what about you? Anyone you’re interested in?” The potatoes I’d just put into my mouth suddenly tasted like sawdust and I reached for my glass, chugging a bunch of water to get them down my throat.

Dad gave her a pinched look. “Now, don’t go bringing up girls to him. He’s in his last year. He needs to be paying attention to his coaches and staying focused on the game. Right, Elliott?”

I stared at my plate, not daring to make eye contact for fear of giving myself away. “Yeah, Dad. No girls for me.” It was as close to the truth as I’d ever gotten, but of course, it went right over my father’s head. I was sure that my being gay would never even cross his mind.

When I happened to look back up, I caught Mom staring at me, her head tilted to the side and a contemplative look on her face. My heart pounded wildly against my ribs as I wondered what she was thinking. “So, Trey. What are you going to write next?” I asked, trying to shift the focus off myself.

Trey smiled shyly. “I think I’m going to continue with the story you read earlier. I want to bring a knight into the mix and see what adventures I can take him on. I bet I can—”

“What’s your pitching speed up to?” Dad interrupted. It was as if he hadn’t even heard Trey speaking.

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