Page 76 of Untouchable Player

Jones puts his hand up, “I’ll go Coach.”

“Good, one more.”

“I’ll go.” Why did I do that? I could have spent that time in bed with Nate. But it’s a kid’s outreach programme, and I love seeing the enthusiasm those little kids have for hockey. It reminds me of when hockey was just fun and nothing else.

“Good, Jones and Engels, meet me here at 9am sharp Saturday morning.”

Jones slaps me on the shoulder and I guess it won’t be so bad. I can always see Nate when I get back.

I should really go to O’Neil’s with the guys tonight, I can’t remember the last time I hung out with them since I started this thing up with Nate. But all I want to do is see Nate.

When I text him, he tells me his mom and dad are home tonight anyway, so he’ll see me some other time.

I’m so bad at reading when someone’s actually pissed, but pretending they’re not. I tell myself to accept what Nate is saying and let him tell me if he’s pissed. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to play games.

O’Neil’s is crowded and people keep buying us drinks and congratulating us on kicking Yale’s asses. I try to drink slowly,not wanting to get too drunk in case Nate can squeeze an hour out of studying tomorrow. I don’t want to be hungover for what I’ve got planned for him next.

But people keep putting new drinks down in front of me and telling me to drink.

This beautiful girl is sitting next to me, talking about her sociology research and playing with her earring.

“I like your tooth,” she says.

“What?” I shout over the noise.

“Your chipped tooth, it’s cute.”

“Oh, thanks.”

I know she’s waiting for me to say something, some line maybe, I don’t know, but I’m not interested, at all. I finish the beer in front of me and step out of O’Neil’s into the cold. Fuck it feels good to be away from there.

That girl was beautiful, but I wasn’t interested. And it wasn’t just because I only have Nate on my mind right now. I’ve told myself I’m only interested in sex with men, but how interested in sex with women have I been? So having sex with a girl isn’t gross or terrible, but does it feel the way it does when I’m with a guy?

I text Nate and ask if I can call him, because I know he’s the only one who might understand.

He answers on the first ring.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m gay.”

“Okay?”

“I mean, not bi, like, gay.”

There’s a short silence and then he asks, “do you like having sex with girls?”

“Yeah, but… not as much as I like having sex with guys, it’s not supposed to be like that right?”

“Sexuality is a spectrum, I think it just depends if youlikehaving sex with girls, or if you just don’t hate it. If you just don’t hate it,then yeah, I guess you’re a gay guy who’s a little closer to the bi spectrum than some others.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“I never thought about I like that before. You’re so smart.”

Nate laughs, “are you drunk?”

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