Page 73 of Choke Up

"I'm so proud of you!" he says.

"I'm so sweaty," I laugh. And dirty and grimy. I'm gross. But Ellis doesn't care. Case in point, he licks the side of my face. My chest rumbles. "Watch it, there are children present."

Ellis throws his head back and laughs before smacking one last kiss on my lips and jumping down. He runs to his brother, and I take a moment to roll my lips in, touching everywhere he kissed me with my fingertips. I'm kind of lost in it, but then my vision focuses, and I look up to see our parents staring at me. I'm not sure what to make of their astonished expressions. Whoops.

Coward that I am, I look over my shoulder for backup, but Ellis is hugging his brother. Their heads are huddled together, and Ellis is saying something to Elliot that he looks to be taking very seriously. I hope it's nothing bad. We haven't hung out at all, or talked much outside of baseball stuff, but we've kept things friendly. Ellis and I do our best to respect the living space and not be loud or obvious or rub our illicit love in his face. And I think he's doing his best to give us alone time to balance it out. Today is the first day he's smiled at me in weeks.

"Hope! Rodgers!" Coach barks. "With me!"

We look at each other, both with shocked expressions, as we meet halfway and follow Coach into the offices beneath the stadium. I have a moment of giddiness that we're playing in an actual stadium, but keep a stoic look on my face.

"What did you do?" Elliot murmurs, speaking out of the side of his mouth, face forward.

"Why do you assume I did something?"

He raises his eyebrows and pins me with a deadpan expression.

"Okay fine. But I really didn't do anything this time." Even Tripp has been on his best behavior, studiously avoiding me wherever possible. I heard he's transferring next year, which is a shame, because he's a great shortstop. It's just too bad he’s a dickbag.

"You boys ready?" Coach asks, stopping at a pair of double doors.

"Ready for what, sir?" Elliot asks, and I wipe sweat from my brow, helmet still in my hand. I haven't even taken my pads off yet.

"Your first press conference," he says, like it’s obvious. He gives us a signal to hold tight and slips inside.

It’s the first time Elliot and I have been alone since he figured it all out. We’ve mostly just been avoiding each other and I hate it. I want my best friend back.

“Hey, E?” I start, shuffling on my feet. “I’m… I’m sorry. I should have been honest with you.”

I don’t make excuses about not knowing what I was doing, or being afraid, or anything else. None of that is as important as the fact that he’s my best friend. My brother. And I kept something huge from him.

I chance looking at him, and he holds my gaze. “Why didn’t you feel like you could tell me?”

“I was a coward,” I say. “I was terrified of losing you. Of losing both of you.”

Elliot nods and looks at the doors, his jaw ticking. He doesn’t look angry, but I can tell he’s uncomfortable with the discussion.

“I know I’m not good enough for him. It’s part of why it took me so long to—” I take a breath. “I love him, E. I just want you to know that.”

Then the doors swing open, and Coach gestures us inside a conference room full of what feels like hundreds of people, but once we get settled in, I realize it's only about two dozen. There are a lot of flashing lights, and I'm sure I look like a brainless meathead as I scramble to answer questions. Elliot puts his hand on my shoulder, talking about some stat we pulled off tonight. It was an epic game. A near shutout to win the conference championship.

"But we're not done yet," I say, giving Elliot a nod. He squeezes my shoulder, and I can't help but feel like this is the turning point. This is how we make our way back to being brothers again.

"College World Series, here we come," he finishes for me. Our gazes hold for a brief moment, a meaningful look passed between us.

After the press conference, where we were asked all kinds of surreal questions about our futures and whether we plan to go pro after college, Elliot pulls me to the side before we join our team in the locker room.

“You’re good enough, Gabe. You’re more than that. Ellis wouldn’t be so in love with you if you weren’t worth it. I know it’s not some game or experiment for you. I can see it in the way you are together. I’m… happy for you both.”

Keep it together, Gabe. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“I mean, I’m not going to lie. It’s weird as fuck. Especially because you’re constantly fucking in there and I can hear it. But I can get past that if you promise to keep things the same between us.”

Trying to hide the rush of emotion that’s threatening to burst from my chest, I pull Elliot into my chest.

He hugs me back and pats my back. “I love you, man.”

There's a lot of horseplay and rowdy celebration going on in the locker room when we walk inside. Coach comes in and congratulates us on not playing like shit and gives us the usual warnings about partying too hard and drinking and driving. There's talk of a party back at the hotel, since we're all staying in the same hall.

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