Page 6 of No More Jocks

Marcus's expression grew serious. "I'm hoping for a football scholarship," he said. "It's pretty much my only shot at college. My family... we can't afford it otherwise."

The vulnerability in his admission touched me. "Is that why you're working so hard to improve your grades?"

He nodded, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. No scholarship without the grades to back it up. Plus," he added, his voice softening, "I want to make my mom proud, you know?"

I nodded, understanding all too well the weight of parental expectations. "Did you really mean what you said back there?" I asked after a while, my voice cautious.

"About what?" Marcus asked, looking up from his tray.

"About respecting people and not treating them like crap," I said, meeting his gaze. My heart was pounding, but I needed to know.

"Yeah, I did," Marcus replied firmly, his eyes never leaving mine. "I've seen too much bullying in my life. It's not right."

I smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made me feel good inside. "I appreciate that, Marcus. It means a lot."

"No problem," he said, shrugging as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "We all need to look out for each other, right?"

"Right," I agreed, marveling at how easy it was to talk to him. "So, tell me more about this favorite movie of yours. I haven't seen it."

We spent the rest of lunch talking about movies, laughing, and sharing stories. It was easy, comfortable, and I realized that I genuinely enjoyed Marcus's company. He wasn't just another jock; he was becoming a friend. And that was something I hadn't expected but was incredibly grateful for.

As the lunch period drew to a close and we gathered our things to head to class, I found myself reluctant for our time together to end. Marcus seemed to feel the same, lingering by the table even as other students rushed past us.

"Hey, Caleb," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice that I hadn't heard before. "I was thinking... would you maybe want to hang out sometime? Outside of tutoring, I mean. We could catch a movie or something."

My heart leapt in my chest, and for a moment, I was speechless. Was Marcus asking me out? Or was this just a friendly invitation? I realized I didn't care either way - I just wanted to spend more time with him.

"Yeah," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Marcus's face broke into a wide grin. "Great! I'll text you, okay?"

As we parted ways, heading to our respective classes, I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. Whatever this was between Marcus and me - friendship, maybe something more - it was unexpected and exciting. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I belonged at Julius High. And it was all thanks to the last person I ever expected to connect with - the star quarterback who was quickly becoming so much more than that in my eyes.

5

MARCUS

Standing up to Jake and Ryan wasn't easy. They were not just teammates; they were part of the football family that had welcomed me when I transferred. I didn't take their support for granted, and I knew the potential fallout from challenging them. But what they were doing to Caleb was wrong. And I couldn't stand by and let it happen.

As I paced in my room, waiting for Caleb to arrive for our tutoring session, the memory of that confrontation played over in my mind. The shock on Jake and Ryan's faces, the hushed silence that fell over the hallway, the quiet gratitude in Caleb's eyes - it all swirled together in a mix of emotions I was still trying to sort out.

It wasn't just about defending Caleb; it was about standing up for what was right. I wanted to find someone to have a serious relationship with, but being an openly bisexual athlete was career suicide. It wasn't good for business, especially in a school that was predominantly Black. Black people were extremely hard on their own kind when it came to sexuality, but that was a topic for another conversation.

I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling covered in glow-in-the-dark stars I'd put up years ago. They reminded me of simpler times, before I had to worry about scholarships, team dynamics, and hiding who I really was. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to remember the first time I saw Caleb.

The minute I laid eyes on him, my heart pitter-pattered, and I felt like a kid in a candy store. Here was this lean, skinny kid with a smile that would brighten up anyone's day, wearing a gay pride shirt perfectly coordinated with his rainbow chucks. He was the guy I was too afraid to be. He was unapologetically himself, and I admired that. He was intelligent and confident, and I wanted to know him better. But I had to keep my feelings in check; I couldn't afford any distractions.

An entire week had passed, and I barely saw Caleb because of late-night practices and church services with my mom. But tonight was the night we got to be alone, and I was definitely looking forward to it. I offered to have the tutoring session at my house because my mother was hosting a Bible study at church. When I got home, I made some chocolate chip cookies and poured a couple of glasses of milk. I'd read in last year's yearbook that Caleb loved chocolate chip cookies and oat milk, and I hoped he would get the hint that I liked him because I wasn't great at communicating my feelings.

I looked at my watch. It was thirty minutes to 7:00 p.m. My stomach was a knot of nerves and excitement. I decided to take a quick shower to calm myself down and freshen up. As the warm water cascaded over me, I tried to sort through my jumbled thoughts. On one hand, I was excited to spend time with Caleb, to get to know him better outside of school. On the other hand,

I was terrified of the consequences if anyone found out about my feelings. My scholarship, my place on the team, my relationship with my mom - everything could be jeopardized.

I stepped out of the shower, dried off, and stood in front of the mirror. The face that looked back at me was a mask I'd worn for so long - the confident quarterback, the good son, the straight guy. But underneath, there was another Marcus trying to break free. A Marcus who wanted to be honest about who he was, who he liked, what he felt.

I threw on a pair of gray sweats. The smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air, and I hoped Caleb would appreciate the gesture. I wanted him to feel welcome, to see that there was more to me than just the jock stereotype.

At 6:55, the doorbell rang. My heart leapt into my throat. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. "I'll be right there," I called out, my voice sounding strangely high to my own ears.

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