Page 138 of Honeysuckle
“Stand up,” I cleared my throat and urged him upward. His knees buckled a little, but he stood as the cheers from the team rumbled through the party louder than ever. Screams and whistles echoing around swallowed up any doubt he was feeling. He looked down at me and our eyes met, his full of raw fear as I nodded, encouraging him to move toward the stage. “You can do this,” I said.
Dean’s eyes flickered shut—and if I hadn’t been standing beside him, I might’ve missed it—but the fear dissolved, and he summoned that golden boy smile. His cheeks were flushed from the heat of the spotlight, but he waved, shaking hands with Silas quickly and putting on the best show he could for the clapping crowd.
“Bets on puking?” Cael appeared at my left, squatting in his suit as his massive blue eyes watched the stage.
“He won’t,” I said to him, not looking away. And I knew, without placing a single bet, that I was right. He wasn’t going to be sick, he could get through this.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he whispered. “He’s pretty determined when he wants to be.”
“He sure fucking is,” I said before holding my breath as Dean shook Coach’s hand and kissed Sylwia on the cheek.
Dean reached out, adjusted the microphone with a sharp screech, then stepped back and cleared his throat. He had been handed a crystal plaque, no doubt engraved with his name, and he looked down at it like he might cry. His jaw quivered, and his hand wrapped around the wooden podium to brace himself as the silence dragged on.
“Show us that boyish charm, Tucker!” Van yelled, and Zoey’s giggles could be heard, but the outburst helped, and Dean smiled, looking up and squinting into the lights shining on him.
I whirled around in my chair quietly and barked under my breath at Cael. "Tell them to turn that shit down.”
Cael understood, darting off bent over to avoid blocking anyone’s view and before long the lights dimmed a little on the stage. Dean looked around, finally able to see everyone and relaxed even more. he set his phone on the podium and took a quick second to find himself before starting.
“I’ve been playing baseball since I could run,” Dean said. "I was always the biggest kid on the field, Elementary school was a riot when I was as tall as some of the teachers. Being that big, from a respected family… I had every opportunity I wanted when it came to sports. Coach Andrews has tried to get me to join the football team more than once,” he laughed, and so did a few others. “But baseball was always where I belonged, the sunshine, the dirt, the camaraderie…” he sighed. “The family.”
The team erupted again, and Dean laughed, a true smile forming on his lips.
“I’ve also been gay my whole life,” he said, gripping the podium tighter. “Which apparently wasn't a surprise to the team but I definitely figured it out watching Saved by the Bell.” Everyone was quiet, but a few of the guys hollered to encourage him through the silence.
“Fuck,” Silas swore under his breath. "He’s losing it.”
“No,” I said. "He’s fine, just let him get through it.” Dean’s eyes found mine like he knew I was talking about him, and I nodded for him to keep going.
“Being gay shouldn’t be as difficult as it is most days, but it’s especially taxing on an athlete playing at a high level. I knew accepting the captain position would shake things up at Harbor, that I could handle the pressure of leading the team to victory.” He licked his bottom lip, his throat no doubt dry. “What I wasn’t confident in was my ability to be myself and be proud of who I am. When the majority of the league still finds comfort in slurs used in jest, directed at me unknowingly, it’s difficult to navigate. Remaining quiet, letting the moments pass, pretending that I was just one of the guys just to get through the games.”
Something crashed from behind us and the spot where Mr. Tucker was sitting was empty, leaving Dean’s mother, the color of a tomato, staring up in anger at her son.Good.
“The beginning of the season was rough,” he said, digging something out of his pocket. A small piece of yellow paper, along with a folded white one that looked like it had gone through the wash. “I’ve gotten pretty good at talking to the press. It was a team effort writing this press statement,” he held it up, still folded. "But I never read it because I was scared. I didn’t want to disturb the status quo.”
I smiled up at the stage, proud of Dean for everything he was standing for.
“It sucks, keeping the peace,” Dean shook the award in his other hand. "But I didn’t get this for keeping the peace. I got this for being brave and unshakeable in my morals.” He held it up higher. "But it was only because of a teammate, a friend…” he stared at me, those blue eyes burning through the darkness. “Someone I love and respect looked at me when I was at my lowest this season and told me that those people didn’t deserve peace. That I had to step up because there are kids like me all over the country that need role models, the kind that I needed growing up. They don’t need peace—they need a voice when the noise gets too loud. They need gay baseball players. Gay captains. Gay men. In the original statement, it was written that I will not apologize for my personal life. And that stands true. This award proves that the articles and gossip will not change who I am, or how good I am at baseball.”
A smug smile formed on his face, and in that moment, Dean Tucker glowed the brightest shade of gold. A true beacon of disrupting the normal, stepping outside his comfort zone to be what so many of us needed.
The team stood, cheering and hollering for him in waves of unbreakable noise.
Dean smiled at the crowd. “So thank you to the athletics committee—but this award doesn’t just belong to me. It belongs to the Hornets.”
TUCKER
Standingonthatstagefelt like flying—after I pushed past the violent nausea in my gut and dug up the courage buried deep in my chest. My father locked eyes with me as I accepted the award, pride burning in my chest brighter than it ever had. He stormed off like a bull in a china shop, and it only made me stand taller and smile harder.
I was done hiding.
I thanked everyone again, climbing down from the stage back to my seat. Everyone was still clapping as I rounded the chairs and dropped the award to the table with a thunk. Josh stood, clapping the loudest—an arrogant smile on his face, pride blazing in his eyes.
“That was amazing,” he yelled over the sound of the applause, and his hands separated to take my face between them.
The world dropped away, sound reduced to a muted roar as our eyes locked. His fingers curled into my hair as I leaned in, capturing his lips in a heated, confident kiss that turned my body to rubber.
My stomach was tingly with nervousness, and my head dizzy from adrenaline. I mirrored his movement, pressing my hands to his cheeks to prolong the greedy kiss that I never wanted to end. Silas’s hand on my back was the only reason I pulled away. With my confidence at an all-time high, willing to get lost against Josh for the entire night.
