Page 22 of Cleats and Pumps

I couldn’t say it was a major revelation. But accepting it was a big deal.

I decided to come clean the next day. I was up earlier than Amos, so I went to Owen’s room and woke him up.

“Owen, I need your advice,” I said as he rolled over and looked at me.

“What’s up, Tommy?” he asked.

“I think I’m in love with Amos,” I admitted and waited for the drama to start.

Instead, Owen just laughed. “Yeah, what else is new?”

“What, you knew? How?” I asked.

Owen sat up in bed and patted the mattress. When I sat down, he said, “You’ve been falling for him since we met him. You just haven’t admitted it until now.”

I knew he was telling the truth. “Do you think Amos knows?”

Owen shook his head. “No, buddy, he’s clueless. You know Amos, the world is a big production to him. If it doesn’t hit him in the head or is written in a playbook, he’s gonna miss it.”

I nodded. “Well, I think I need to come clean, and when the shit hits the fan, I need a place to stay.”

Owen put his hand on my shoulder. “You’re welcome to bunk here, but I think Amos cares for you, so don’t discount the possibility that the two of you might work this out.”

I smiled. “You think?”

“I think,” he said and pulled me into a hug.

I returned to our room, where Amos was snoring like he did when he’d had too much to drink, so I went into the shower and cleaned up. When I came out, Amos was waking up.

He smiled when he saw me. “You’re up early. I figured you’d sleep until noon, at least.”

I laughed at him. “You are the one to sleep ’til noon. I have too many assignments to get away with that.”

“You’re a geek who worries too much about his grades,” he said as he crawled out of bed.

When he turned to go into the bathroom, I said, “Amos, when you’re done, can we talk?”

I noticed a look of panic cross his face and internally moaned at the reaction. “Sure, yeah, sure. Let me get cleaned up first, and we can talk.”

I laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling until Amos returned. He sat at my desk and swiveled the chair to face me. “Tommy,” he said, “I-I know I put the moves on you a little, and I’m sorry, okay? I’m still fucked up over not understandingwhere I fit in the whole sexuality thing, and I think I projected that on you.”

I leaned up to interrupt him, excited about where this might be going, but the next thing he said pretty much put an end to it.

“I don’t think of you that way though. You, Tommy, are my friend, my brother, really, and I won’t ever want you, not in that way, okay? I know I made you uncomfortable, but you don’t have to worry about that with me, never, understand?”

I did understand. He was making it clear we would never be lovers. He wanted my friendship and only my friendship. It didn’t matter how I felt; he didn’t feel the same.

I nodded and felt tears threatening to escape. I stood up, patted his shoulder, and said I needed to run to the library.

I was thankful it was Sunday and the campus would be quiet, because as soon as I was out of the room, I rushed to find my favorite quiet space, hidden under a mound of honeysuckle bushes, and cried my eyes out.

It was chilly since it was early fall, but the cool air felt good on my heated face. I finally got a ding from Owen asking how it went, and when I told him, he sent a sad emoji. We met at a brunch place just off campus, and Owen comforted me as I retold the story in person.

“Amos is an odd one regarding relationships,” Owen said. “I think he was trying to protect you in his own way. Do you think you can still be friends?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t know, but for now, I’m going to try.”

When I got back to the room, Amos was sheepish, but I couldn’t manage if I didn’t push my feelings down. “Are we good?” he asked, and I nodded.

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