Page 110 of Hits Different

I shift guiltily in my seat. Donnie had seen the photos? “You’ve always said he was a good influence”.

“Have I?” Donnie frowns. “I don’t remember that. I always thought you brought out the best in each other. Don’t get me wrong, Brandon’s a lovely kid. But sometimes a bit too serious. A bit too focused. You guys balanced each other out. Still do, probably”.

There’s a prickling behind my eyes.

“It’s been good to have him back in my life”.

Hesitatingly, Donnie reaches out and places his hand on my shoulder.“I’m not your father, but for whatever it may be worth, I care about you, Parker. And whatever’s making you this happy, it’s worth holding onto. Whether it’s MMA”, he squeezes my arm. “Or something else”.

Chapter 42

Talk of the Town

Brandon

“You’re late”, Gretchen chastises me, as I jog onto the field. She’s lined up a dozen soccer balls at varying points in the penalty box. A couple of guys I don’t recognise nudge each other from the sidelines. I ignore them.

“Sorry. Usual drill?”

She nods curtly. I blast the first ball right into the far corner of the net. Gretchen barks another instruction. I line it up, and my stomach sinks as the ball bounces effortlessly off the crossbar.

“Brandon Carter! How does it feel to be the first openly gay player in college league soccer?” I spin, just in time to see security bundling a familiar-looking guy out of the gates. “Has your father been supportive? What do your teammates think?”

His words are snatched away by the wind, but they still manage to find me. And everyone else. “Carter!” Gretchen snaps, “Focus!”

I run through my drills. I don’t break focus, not even once. I do my best, but I know it’s not good enough. I try. I really do. But I can’t tap into what made me good. And it’d be so easy to blame the distractions. The Parker of it all. The parents of it all. The entire fucking world of it all.

But maybe the truth is more obvious than that.

Maybe I’m just not that good at soccer after all.

* * * *

By lunchtime, I can’t take it anymore.

The locker room is the nearest place I can find to have a mental breakdown. Just days ago I was in here with Parker, our worlds changing together. Now, my game sucks and there’s an invisible wall between us.

All thanks to some loser with a camera phone.

My reflection provides no answers as to what to do next. Who am I without soccer? Why would anyone want me, if I couldn’t do all the things that made me Brandon Carter?

If I walk away now, then it was all for nothing. The years of turning myself inside out trying to fit in. The hours and hours of practice. What do I become? Just another could-have-been-someone. Another Brad Fleming.

A burst of laughter makes me jump. I quickly grab my stuff and dive into a cubicle.

“I heard he came out to his whole team and that’s why they dropped him”. Alex, I realise. One of the junior coaches. “My cousin’s sister’s friend’s roommate’s friend goes to the same college. That’s how I know. It was the talk of the campus”.

“You’re full of shit”.

“Are you calling my cousin’s sister’s friend’s roommate’s friend a liar?” They both laugh. “Ok. Let’s say it’s a secret. How does that explain why he’s here, and not on tour with his teammates in Europe?”

“He’s here to get better”, A pause. “Not that he could get much worse”.

“Maybe he’s here to cruise for dudes”.

“He spends a lot of time with Di Rossi”, My heart skips a beat. “Just an observation”.

“There’s no way thatDi Rossi’sinto dudes. He’s a wannabe cage fighter”.

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