Page 41 of The Jock
“Yes, it’s a date. I’m moving on. It’s not like there’s any reason for me not to. You ended things.”
Justin’s words hit Wes like ninety-mile-per-hour football passes. They made his lungs seize, ripped his breath away. “I know—”
“Do you? Because I don’t think you do!” Justin marched down the alley to where Wes had tried to hide. “If you did, you’d make more fucking sense. Care to clue me in on what you know?” His head bobbed left and right as he spoke, and his voice was vicious, cutting. “Why do you care that I’m on a date? Why are you leaving flowers on my windshield? Why do you have pictures of Paris up on your wall? Why do you have a picture of us under your pillow?”
He couldn’t speak. His tongue was dead weight, useless. He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
“Youwere the one who ended everything.Youwere the one who said you couldn’t do this.Youwere the one who said to forget you exist. I did everything you told me to! I let you go, and I didn’t make a fuss. I never bothered you. I never reminded you about what we had or what we did. And I’m working on forgetting you exist, but, you know, you’re making that really fucking hard when you keep showing up.”
“I’m sorry—” he croaked.
“Yeah, you’re alwayssorry. You’resorry, but you can’t do this. You’resorry, but you changed your mind. You’resorry, but you used me because you wanted to see what it was like, walking on the wild side for a few weeks. Look, you got it out of your system, okay? You had your little experimentation phase, and now you can go back to your jock life with your tape and your Monster Energy and your stink.”
“What? Justin, no! You weren’t an experiment!”
“Oh yeah? Then what was I? What am I supposed to think when you tell me to forget you existed?”
“Jesus, not that!”
“You used me, and you threw me away when you were done—”
“No!”
“Thenwhat? What was it that had you running away from me as fast as you could? Because from where I’m standing, it absolutely looks like you’re ashamed. You got scared and you decided to leap right back in that closet where it’s nice and safe and straight.”
He was going to be sick. His stomach heaved. He kept the bile down through sheer force of will.
“And, you know what, I even understand. You worked your ass off for that starting position. I get it.” A laugh burst out of Justin, cold and cutting, “I mean, Jesus Christ, you’re my dad’s favorite player.”
“I’m not ashamed,” Wes said through gritted teeth.
“No?” Justin threw his arms wide. “Go ahead, Wes. Shout it out. Tell the world what you are.”
Wes’s lips clamped shut.
Justin’s arms fell. “That’s what I thought.”
Buzzing broke the stillness between them. Cursing, Justin fished his cell phone out from his back pocket. “Rafael is wondering where I am.”
“Your date?”
“Yes, my date. Who I just abandoned to chase you.”
Wes shook his head. Stared at the ground. “I’mnotashamed.”
Justin snorted. He strode back down the alley. “Keep telling yourself that. One day you’ll realize how ridiculous that lie sounds. Try and remember me when you finally realize. Remember this moment.”
Justin was going to walk away, disappear and go back to his date. He was going to leave, and he was never going to talk to Wes again, not after this.
Everything was on the line, suddenly.
Wes started after Justin. He closed his eyes and felt his soul take off, running down the field. The ball was soaring overhead and he was racing it, sprinting as hard as he could to catch up. He was trying to catch up to his heart, and to Justin, and to his life. Run, run, run. What would be there at the end?
How could he know the answer if he didn’t take the chance?
“I love you,” he called after Justin. “I loved you in Paris, and I still love you. You’re everything to me. You’re the first thing I think of when I open my eyes in the morning. You’re in class with me, you’re on the field with me, you’re in the gym with me. I talk to you when I’m alone. When I’m driving in my truck. When I’m jogging or working out. You’re on my mind every minute of the day. And you’re the last thing I see every night. That photo…” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I love you, and I’m not ashamed of that.”
Justin had turned to Wes halfway through his word vomit. He stared, not moving, not breathing.
