At night, I lay awake, replaying our moments together, torn between the ecstasy of his touch and the agony of his denial. Bradley was everything I wanted behind closed doors, but outside, he was a stranger. The emotional whiplash was exhausting. I wanted to be acknowledged, to be seen, but instead, I was hidden away, a dirty little secret in his double life.
Then everything started going further downhill wrong the day he got drafted. Bradley became more distant, more careful about maintaining his image. Then, I finally caught him with Sarah, it was the final straw. I was done with him. I couldn’t believe he had betrayed me, despite all his promises. The sight of them together shattered the last pieces of my trust.
I swore to myself that I would never let anyone make me feel this way again. No more being someone’s secret, no more hiding in the shadows. No More Jocks. I worked hard to heal myself. I was on track to graduate as valedictorian of our senior class and made peace with my sexuality after telling my family and classmates that I was gay. A heavy burden lifted off me, and in less than a year, I would hopefully attend one of the Ivies. To my surprise, most people were kind and accepting. Occasionally, I’d get called a homophobic slur from the football team, but it didn’t faze me anymore. For now, I would focus on increasing my SAT and ACT scores since I was the official tutor of the English department and tutoring the poor performers as asked by Mrs. Johnson.
Relationships could wait. My focus was on getting into my dream Ivy League college. The pain of Bradley’s betrayal was a harsh lesson, but it gave me the strength and determination to move on and prioritize my future. As I sat in Paul's yoga studio, I took another deep breath in and let it out slowly. I could feel the tension in my body slowly melting away, replaced by a sense of calm and peace. I knew that I still had a long way to go, but I was determined to keep moving forward, to keep healing and growing.
I thought about my future, about the college I wanted to attend and the career I wanted to pursue. I knew that it wouldn't be easy, that there would be challenges and setbacks along the way. But I was ready to face them head-on, to keep pushing forward no matter what.
And as I sat there, surrounded by the soothing sounds of water and the gentle breathing of my fellow meditators, I felt a sense of hope and possibility. I knew that I could do this, that I could heal and move on and create the life that I wanted.
I took one last deep breath in and let it out slowly, feeling a sense of gratitude and joy. I was grateful for the pain that had led me to this moment, for the lessons that I had learned along the way. And I was excited for the future, for all the possibilities that lay ahead.
I opened my eyes and looked around the room, feeling a sense of peace and contentment. I knew that I was exactly where I was supposed to be, doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. And I was ready to keep moving forward, to keep healing and growing and creating the life that I wanted, and I knew that this would be possible as long as I made myself a promise. No more Jocks.
2
MARCUS
The late fall sun beat down on the sprawling campus of Julius High as I made my way through the crowded hallways. The air was thick with the scent of freshly waxed floors and the nervous energy of students starting a new quarter. For me, Marcus Jennings, it wasn't just a new year—it was a whole new beginning.
Being the new quarterback at Julius High was more than just a fresh start; it was a lifeline I desperately needed. My last school had been a disaster, ending with an expulsion after an ugly incident involving my ex-girlfriend and the guy she cheated with. The memory of it still made my stomach churn, but I forced it down. I had to put all that behind me and focus on what mattered now: football, grades, and staying out of trouble.
As I navigated the unfamiliar hallways, the weight of my family's expectations pressed down on my shoulders. We weren't well-off, and this scholarship was my ticket—our ticket—to a better future. I wanted to give my mother the life she deserved after sacrificing everything to support me. Now it was my turn to make her proud. Playing for Julius High's football team and keeping my grades up wasn't just important; it was crucial. If I failed, I'd lose my free education and my chance to break the cycle of poverty we were stuck in.
I adjusted my backpack, feeling the strain of textbooks I hadn't quite opened yet. My next class was English Literature, a subject that might as well have been written in hieroglyphics. As I rounded the corner, I spotted a familiar face by the lockers—Caleb, the school's official English tutor. Mrs. Johnson, my new English teacher, had suggested I approach him for help, and now seemed as good a time as any.
Caleb was easy to recognize, he looked just like his yearbook picture from last year. Even in the sea of unfamiliar faces. He stood out with his studious look, always seeming to be buried in a book. As I walked up to him, I couldn't help but notice how attractive he was. His round, studious glasses framed his almond-shaped eyes perfectly, and his smooth, milk chocolate skin was flawless. For a moment, I felt a flutter in my chest—a dangerous distraction I couldn't afford.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "Hey, Caleb, right?" I said, trying to sound casual and keep my nerves in check.
He looked up from his book, clearly surprised. His eyes, a warm shade of brown, widened slightly behind his glasses. "Yeah, that's me. And you are?"
"I'm Marcus Jennings," I replied, offering a smile. "Mrs. Johnson said you're the go-to person for English tutoring." Caleb stared at me without replying, his expression unreadable. I felt my confidence waver but pressed on. "I'm struggling a bit and need to get my grades up to stay on the team. Coach Harris insisted I get help."
Caleb sighed, looking more resigned than pleased. He closed his book, a worn copy of "To Kill a Mockingbird," and tucked it under his arm. "Yeah, she mentioned someone needed help. I guess that's you?"
I nodded, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. "I am Sir Marcus, the guy who faileth English," I said, attempting a joke to break the ice.
Caleb's lips twitched, almost forming a smile. "And if that's your best interpretation of Shakespeare, then I understand why you're failing English Literature."
"Ouch," I laughed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. "Aren't tutors supposed to encourage their tutorees, not bring them down?"
"The word is tutee," Caleb corrected, but this time there was a hint of warmth in his voice. He glanced at his watch, then back at me."Anyway, let's meet in the library after school tomorrow. We can assess where you're at and make a plan."
"Thanks, man. I really appreciate it," I said, giving him a nod before heading off to class.
As I walked away, I couldn't shake the attraction I felt. Caleb was different—he was smart, and there was something about him that drew me in. But I had to stay focused. Relationships had only ever kept me distracted, especially when unnecessary drama was involved. I'd promised myself no more dating until after high school graduation. I needed to concentrate on my goals, keep my scholarship, and make the most of this opportunity. This was my shot at a better life, and I couldn't afford to mess it up.
Throughout the rest of the day, Caleb's face kept coming to mind. In my classes, I found myself doodling in my notebook instead of taking notes. By the time football practice rolled around, I was grateful for the physical exertion—a chance to clear my head and focus on something I was actually good at.
The practice field was a welcome sight, the freshly mowed grass a vibrant green under the afternoon sun. As I joined my teammates for warm-ups, I could feel the tension in my muscles begin to ease. This was where I belonged.
"Alright, boys!" Coach Harris's booming voice carried across the field. "Let's see what you've got today!"
For the next two hours, I lost myself in the rhythm of the game. Each play Coach Harris called, I executed with precision. The weight of my past began to lift with every completed pass, every successful run. The team was coming together, and for the first time in months, I felt like I was part of something bigger than myself.
As practice wound down, Coach Harris called me over. "Great practice today, Jennings," he said, clapping me on the shoulder.