Page 51 of Tumbling the Cornerback

Cooper ended up late to practice, and I almost missed a call from Dani. Still glowing, I accepted her request for a video call. Her raised brows informed me she knew what I'd been up to. "Not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Not a thing. Except my existential crisis."

"Well," she sighed, "I'm not sure if this is going to help or hurt. Management, who is not thrilled with working on a Saturday morning but they can suck it, has received the documents from Cass and decided Creel's statements were, in part, false. But you did violate your morality clause by dating a player while contracted to the cheer squad. He was in violation as well, but since he's no longer a player, the Copperheads can do nothing to address that. It'd be opening cans of worms they would just rather not deal with, especially since it would leave them open to accusations of homophobia, queerphobia, and so on."

"So what does this mean for me?" I asked, barely above a whisper. My good mood was officially gone, and reality was creeping in faster than I'd ever wanted. "When do I come clean out my locker?"

She winced. "I'll have one of the ladies do it this afternoon, after practice. In the meantime, I'll need to collect your keys to the gym, the practice facility, your uniforms?—"

"I paid for those," I pointed out dryly. "Do I get my money back?"

"Lucas..."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Shit." I tipped my face up, hoping the tears would stay behind my lids when I finally looked back at the screen. "What else?"

"Management has agreed, after Becca and I went hard to bat for you, that you can audition in twelve months for another spot on the squad. But for this year, you're out."

"And the chances of me getting a spot at age twenty-six are virtually nil," I whispered. "Okay then."

"It's not impossible. And you're amazing, Lucas. This isn't the end of the world."

"Not the entire world, no. Just mine."

I stopped by Dani's office to drop off the things considered cheer squad property, down to my uniform socks, leaving everything in a box at the front desk. I couldn't stomach seeing her face to face now. I could barely face Liesel, waiting for me in the lobby of the tiny office block Queering Sports rented.

"Hey," she drawled, bouncing on her heel. "There's no good way for me to say this without sounding like a total jerk but?—"

"I'm fired. Leave. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars," I sighed. "I know. I've been expecting that."

"No," she giggled. "Come here. I want to show you this."

Grabbing my wrist, she pulled me to her office. She had her computer on and facing the door. "I've been preparing." She waved for me to sit down, joining me in the other chair. "I got an email early this morning from Jameson Creel's representative. He's backing out of his role with the organization but," she held up one finger when I gasped, "he's still donating, and throwing his weight behind signing people up. "

On the screen was the email and several open tabs. "Here," she added, clicking on another. "This is QS's fundraising link we keep going all year. Look at the past twelve hours!"

"Jesus... that's half a million dollars!"

She squealed. "All unique donors! There's no definitive evidence, but the spike started after pictures of Cooper in his shirt hit the socials last night. And," she drawled, drumming her hands on the desk in a fanfare, "we've had twenty new volunteer applications this morning. Over half cited his involvement in the organization as a draw. Only a few cited Creel."

Taking it in stunned silence I nodded slowly. "So things are... good," I said weakly. "Really good."

"Well, they could be a lot better." She shifted to lean in closer and clasp my hands in hers. "Lucas, I'm about to ask you something and you can totally say no if you want to. I just ask that you think about it, okay?"

When I stared at her, she sighed, smiling a little more widely. "Don't look so scared. It's not bad. It's kind of huge, actually. One of the big deals this morning was this." She clicked the last tab. An email from a law firm informed Liesel and the board they would be establishing a scholarship fund at Cottonwood College, a private university known for its STEM and business programs, for nonprofit management. The anonymous donor stipulated that the recipient be part of the LGBTQIA+ community and demonstrate a desire to work with kids.

"Uh," I sputtered. "That sounds oddly specific. Who's the donor?"

"We have our suspicions, but the law firm won't answer calls. They're legit, though! I checked 'em out. They specialize in trusts, rich people stuff, but their client is determined to be incognito. Lucas, we want you to be the first recipient. All you have to do is apply to the program and get in." She bit her lip, barely stifling another squeal of excitement. "And honey, you're gonna be a shoe-in."

"I don't... I... what?" My world was rapidly tilting again, the second time in twenty-four hours. "I needa minute. What the hell is happening?"

She shook her head. "No idea, but isn't it wonderful?"

CHAPTER 18

COOPER

"Coppertop, you got a guest," Rye hollered. A few catcalls went up, a few hisses. I raised my middle finger. Grabbing my towel, I headed for the locker room door in my flip flops. Practice had been brutal but good—preseason started in just a few weeks, and we were going to kick so much ass. I could feel it in my bones.

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