Page 30 of Cleats and Pumps

Erissa reached up and patted my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, but you know they can bench you. They don’t have to give a reason. The fact they even told me instead of just doing it is a win.”

I sighed. “I guess. Damn.”

“Coach said you can take the rest of the summer off—no need to be training. I’d recommend you go home, see your parents,harass your brother, and have fun, but not in public. No drag shows, for God’s sake, but enjoy the season off.”

“But my career, Erissa. I have at least a decade before I’m washed up.”

She smiled sadly, and I could read her expression. Unless I was traded, it was likely the end of my career.

“Thanks for letting me know,” I said and went to my apartment to pout. I’d been afraid the team wouldn’t be interested in me now, and I was right. The ones who used to show up to spend the night disappeared. A couple of the older guys called and offered their support and sympathy when it started, but now they’d also disappeared. My team… well, they were just conservative.

There wasn’t much I could do. I’d get paid whether or not I played. That’s what my dad would care about. Luckily, my contract was good, or else I’d be stuck up a creek without a paddle. Besides, I’d helped the team get all but one game away from the Super Bowl last year. That too was likely saving my ass. Just clearly not well enough.

I threw some random shit in my bag, knowing I had more stuff back home than I did here, and took Erissa up on her suggestion. I could go home. The drag stuff still weirded Dad out, but Mom didn’t seem to care either way. Josiah? I had no idea. Being out, I knew he saw drag if he ever went to the clubs, and I knew for a fact he did.

I texted Mom, letting her know I was going to catch a flight home. Usually, I’d make a quick phone call and get a flight on a private jet, but I already knew my favors were long spent. I locked in a first-class seat, though, knowing which flights I could get on that let me sit alone to avoid attention.

I could disguise myself pretty well. Wrapping a durag around my hair kept most people from looking too closely. Dark glasses, as long as they weren’t too dark, helped too.

Sure enough, I made it through the flight with only a few people giving me a double look. But people didn’t expect to see an NFL player flying commercial, so I knew they assumed I looked familiar but didn’t ask questions.

“Hey,” Mom said, meeting me at the entrance before pulling me into a hug.

“Hey. No Dad?” I asked when she pulled back.

She shook her head. “No, he’s helping our neighbor with a project he’d already committed to. But he said he’s glad you came home.”

I looked at her but didn’t comment, climbing into the passenger side and closing the door before people looked too closely. I was a couple of feet taller than my mom and significantly bigger. People always stared when she mommed me. It’s not like I didn’t take after her. I had her pointy nose and large eyes. But I was my dad’s build and coloring. Most people would recognize my dad too. He had been featured in several sports magazine interviews over the years.

“Is he upset?” I asked when she pulled into traffic.

She looked at me and then back at the road. “About you doing drag? No, I don’t think so. I think he’s more concerned about you possibly losing your job?”

“Always about the bottom line with him.”

She reached over and patted my knee. “Don’t be upset with him. He just worries about you.” She glanced over and sighed. “We both worry about you, Amos. How are you doing?”

I shrugged and laid my head back against the seat. I’d be getting into that sooner rather than later, but for now, I was tired and drained from all the drama.

Mom never pushed. She sighed quietly beside me and let me process. However, Dad was never going to be okay with letting things go. We both knew that, and it was best for me to steel myself for the hundred questions coming my way.

I opened my eyes and looked over as we passed the Delta terminal, thinking I saw Tommy. “Hey, is that Tommy?” I asked, and Mom looked confused.

“Who?”

“My roommate from college, Tommy?” I asked, but we were already too far to turn back. Mom didn’t say anything, and it was probably just my imagination. As shit had hit the fan, I thought about him a lot. Maybe too much. The only man I’d ever loved. Even though I had lost my virginity long ago, he was the only person I still dreamed about sexually.

My parents had accepted my confession that I was pansexual and not likely to commit to anyone while all but married to my career.

As I rode back with mom, I let the comforting sound of her talking about inconsequential things soothe me. Erissa had been right; this was exactly what I needed.

15

Tommy

“Owen,dude,no,Idon’t need you to come over. I told you, I’m enjoying the downtime.”

“Yeah, right,” Owen responded, making me laugh. The guy knew me too well. I was all up in my head about being let go from the paper. But I wanted the space to pout. Needed it. I’d long ago accepted that I was an introvert and needed the time to crash, burn, and lick my wounds.

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