Page 35 of Cleats and Pumps

I flipped through my phone, ignoring the multitude of requests for interviews or comments about the league’s actions.Someone had leaked my being benched to the press. Because, of course, they would. I didn’t have enough on my plate as it was, right?

It seemed like forever before Tommy re-emerged. His slender frame was accented by the tight T-shirt and gym shorts he wore. I should be ashamed, but my mouth watered as I stared at him.

“What?” he asked when I didn’t look away.

“Um, just…” I looked up, making eye contact, and sighed. “I’ve really missed you.”

Tommy deflated and sat heavily on the sofa across from me. “Oh shit, Amos. We really have to talk.”

21

Tommy

Iwasjustabouttogo into the long spiel to Amos about how I was drunk, and he couldn’t hold me accountable for what I’d said, when I heard Owen knock and tell us breakfast was ready. I wasn’t sure if I felt saved by the interruption or annoyed I couldn’t get out what I’d been practicing for the past thirty minutes as I used up all the hot water.

Like Amos, I followed Owen into his part of the house and sat awkwardly as we exchanged small talk. I wanted to crawl into a hole, run away, anything but be here. I assumed my car was still down at the bar, since I had my keys, and I knew for a fact I hadn’t driven anywhere. Thank God for that, at least.

Jason made small talk about the changes they were going to make to the house now he had turned twenty-five and had access to his inheritance. Supposedly, his parents had kept him from getting any of his grandparents’ money, since they were in charge of it until he turned twenty-five.

Jason was heir to his grandfather’s oil fortune. Not that anyone could tell by looking at the guy. He was as humble as they came. But from what I knew from Owen, that was becausehis mom and dad weren’t happy that he and his siblings had inherited most of the family fortune, and even though they were limited on how much money they could spend from their kids’ trust, they kept it in a tight grip until they were old enough to control it themselves. Even to the point that, for a while, Jason was in danger of being homeless.

Jason finished telling all the stuff they wanted to do with the kitchen, and then he smiled at Amos. “So, what do you plan to do with your free time?”

I cocked my eyebrow and almost asked why he had free time. Then Amos sighed and responded. “I need to stay in shape. My manager is trying to get me traded. Since I can’t train with my team, I… well, I’ll need to do what I can.”

A million questions ran through my reporter brain. Why did he have free time? What was happening around the trading, and would that happen during the summer? Why can’t he train with his team?

I forced my brain away from all of that, remembering that I was no longer a reporter, or at least shouldn’t be right now, since I’d already thrown my career away by not ratting out my friend. I sure wasn’t going to do so now. Instead I asked, “Why don’t you volunteer with a high school? That should help you stay in shape and also help with public opinion.”

Amos laughed. “And what Texas high school will want a crossdresser to work with their kids?”

I moaned. “Yeah, maybe not in Texas.”

“What about New Mexico?” Jason said, and when we turned toward him, he was smiling ear to ear. “I grew up outside of Carlsbad. I can call my friend Jake, a local high school coach. He’s out and married, and, well, his team sucks. They could use some help.”

Owen laughed. “I mean, he’s not joking, Amos. Those kids suck. Jake is a great coach, but the parents are difficult. Not wanting the kids to have to ‘do too much.’”

“And you think I’d be any better?” Amos asked.

“You’re NFL. Benched, but still NFL. If you went out there to help, it’d give Jake a boost, but also, you could tell the parents who are acting stupid to buzz off.”

Fuck, I thought.Amos was benched?If it was anyone but Amos, I’d have known or suspected he would be in this much trouble with his team. This just proved I was too invested in Amos to be impartial. Again, I forced myself to bite down on the questions but I was desperately wanting to know more.

Amos shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m, you know, supposed to be hanging out with my family.”

“Carlsbad is less than a ten-hour drive from here—even less if you fly.”

“We have friends who live in West Texas that fly back and forth to Houston all the time. I’m sure they’d be happy to give you a lift on weekends when you’re wanting to come home.”

Amos looked at me. “I… well, let me think about it. I don’t know what I should be doing right now. Maybe I should just sit tight.”

“Dude, that’s the last thing you need to do,” I said, knowing I should keep my big mouth shut. “This is the first I’m hearing about you being benched, but you have to know if the team can keep your being sidelined out of the press, they will. They’ll want to push you into the recesses of everyone’s minds. You need to get out in front of this. If they’re going to bench you or even fire you for being yourself, you need the world to see what they’re doing.”

“And coaching some small-town football team is the way to do that?”

“With an openly gay coach? Um, yeah!” I said. “Listen, I’ve been writing sports shit for five years. You know what’s gonna come down here. Hell, you accept the job helping that team, and I’ll freelance the fucking article myself. I can think of three LGBTQIA magazines that’ll publish that article right now.”

“Yeah, well, maybe. I need to think.”

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