Page 52 of Go Deep

“S’ok. We miss you.” Austin pauses for a second and my fingers tighten around the phone, anticipating the worst. “So does Shane. He’s in pretty bad shape. You talk to him at all?”

And there it is. I tug at my hair. “He called you?”

“Yeah. He seems kind of messed up. He’s the one who told me about you being at the game today. Said it’s been hard to see you move on with your life like you didn’t care about him at all. Asked if I could talk to you, see where your head’s at.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I thought it was weird to hear from him since we only met a couple of times.”

The only reason why they ever met at all was because Austin made his way up here after Dad died to make amends. At least, that was the reason he tried to sell me on. I knew it was really because he needed money and didn’t want to risk his cash cow brother cutting him off. He and Shane seemed to hit it off and kept in touch on social media, but I knew it was all bullshit on Austin’s side.

I guess Shane was fooled into thinking otherwise. Ormaybe he was just hoping that someone in my family would accept him…acceptus.

Unfortunately for him, my family wasn’t the biggest obstacle to his version of happily ever after.

I was.

“Do me a favor. If Shane reaches out again, don’t take the call. What happened between us has nothing to do with you.”

“I thought you guys were happy.”

I roll my eyes. “Like you’d know. When was the last time you called me without needing something?”

Austin is silent for a minute. “That’s fucked up.”

“Is it? Can you think of a time when you just called to say hi? ‘Cause I sure as hell can’t. Or maybe you’ve backed off because you know my finances are in the toilet after I handled all of Dad’s medical bills and I don’t have much left over for you.”

I finally bite my tongue to keep more angry words from spewing out of my mouth. Stress. It has to be the stress.

Or something else…

“You sound really upset.”

“Yeah, I fucking am. I’m dealing with a lot of shit, Austin. Shit you don’t know the first thing about because you never bother to ask. Bigots, haters, stalkers. It hasn’t been the best few weeks, okay?” All the frustration comes to a head and pops, caustic words projectile vomiting out of my mouth.

“Look, I didn’t mean to piss you off. I’ve been busy. I got a job now working at one of the coal mines. Pay is good. I can help Mom. And I’m not looking for a hand out. I just wanted to let you know about Shane.” He huffs. “Good luck today.”

Click.

“Fuck.” I kick at a stone next to my car. The tip of the brown leather loafer scuffs against the ground. Maybe he really is trying. Maybe I’m the Grade-A jackass because I’m toostubborn and scorned to realize that this whole thing with Dad has been hard on everyone, not just me.

I stalk toward the stadium side entrance. Luckily, it’s away from the main crowd so nobody pays much attention to me until I walk inside. A cool blast hits me from the air conditioner overhead, a welcome change from the stifling heat in the parking lot. I stop at a security checkpoint and they direct me toward a private elevator that leads right up to the floor where the announcer’s booth overlooks the field.

“Get off on the fifth floor and take a right. The booth will be about halfway down the hall on your left.”

“Thanks.” I nod at the security guard and walk over to the elevator bank.

Stabbing the button next to the doors, I turn my back on the crowds of students who’ve just invaded the stadium. The last thing I want to do right now is sign autographs and smile for pictures.

The doors open and I step inside the elevator car. My temples throb. I was a total dick to my brother. He didn’t deserve it. But because I’m bitter and upset, I blasted him. All he wanted to do was give me a heads-up about Shane.

I pull off my sunglasses and scrub a hand down the front of my face. All of this time, I’ve pretended to have my shit under control for the cameras, but really, everything is spiraling.

I’m not okay with how I left things with Dad. Yeah, he apologized, but part of me can’t help thinking it was because he was dying and wanted a clear conscience once he got to the pearly white gates. Maybe he died feeling good about his apology, but I’ll never have the closure I need or want.

And dealing with so much hate from the guys who are supposed to have my back on the field is screwing with my head. They all see how Jase behaves, and even though they don’t join in and echo his snide, narrow-minded comments infront of me, how do I really know they don’t drink from the same pitcher of Kool-Aid? We’re supposed to be a team, but I still feel like I’m on the outside, just like I did before I came out. Back then, it was because I felt different. Now it’s because they all know I am.

And my truth didn’t necessarily set me free.

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