by Cole Bates
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Step Two
By Cole Bates
Copyright © 2017
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
CHAPTER ONE
ALEX
“Hey, Alex are you going to The Grille with the rest of the crew?” I was putting away the tools I’d been using to build a gondola for the set of Phantom of the Opera. It was going to be the biggest production the University drama club had seen to date and I’d won the role of the Phantom. My voice coach and my drama teacher were both appalled that I still insisted on building sets as well, but I loved working with my hands. It was therapy for me and the stagecraft teacher was really cool. I’d learned a lot from her and practiced hitting my notes while I was sanding or drilling or hammering away. I like being here late too since Ryan was hardly ever home anymore. Today however I was out of here early. We finally both had a free evening and I didn’t plan on wasting a minute of it.
“No Harry, sorry. Ryan will be finished with practice early today and we are going to have dinner together tonight.” Ryan’s team just officially started practice a few weeks ago. He’d been working hard to keep his grades up first semester and felt out of shape, so once winter break was over he’d started training hard both in the gym and on the field. It was the beginning of February now and although we live together and I see him just about every night and morning, I felt like I hadn’t really spent any time with him since spring semester started in January.
Harry smiled and said, “Oh good! I know that must make you happy.” Harry and I have worked together on this production since late September and when I started to get down about missing Ryan I confided in him about how I was feeling. Harry had been supportive and he was the one that told me not to give up, every relationship goes through its stale moments. We were both busy and tired at the end of the long days. Finding time for each other would take work and we’d both have to make it a priority. I was new at this relationship stuff, but Harry was much more experienced and willing to offer his insights. He told me that it was okay to expect Ryan to find time for me as long as I didn’t expect him to sacrifice his own identity in the process. Ryan’s identity is, was and will probably always be centered on baseball. Harry compared that to my love of the theater and I didn’t correct him even though I often suspected that Ryan’s love of baseball far outweighed anything I ever felt on stage.
“It makes me really happy,” I told Harry with a smile. I was even happier that tonight had been Ryan’s idea. He made reservations for dinner and everything. I tucked the rest of the stagecraft tools away in the metal locker and attached the combination lock. “We’re going to Matt’s in the village.”
“I love that place.” A sad look crossed his face and I knew he must be thinking about his own relationship. Harry told me that he’s been openly gay since he was a teenager, kind of like me. He was a little luckier in that he grew up in a very progressive neighborhood in San Francisco and he rarely felt the type of discrimination the small town I’d grown up in New York had heaped upon me. But, for the first time in his life, Harry was involved with a man that was still deep in the closet and giving no signs so far that he was willing to come out anytime soon. Last time we talked about it Harry had said he was going to issue him an ultimatum. I knew he didn’t want to do that, however. I got the feeling he was head over heels for this guy.
I put my backpack on my shoulder and Harry and I walked toward the auditorium doors. “How did the talk go?”
He made a face. “He begged me to give him more time. He says that I can’t even begin to understand the kind of reaction his parents were going to have because mine had accepted who I was so easily. His parents are active in a lot of community events here in the city and just being seen together is risky according to him.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m crazy about him,” Harry said. “I wouldn’t have stuck it out this long for anyone else. This is definitely the most passionate relationship I’ve ever been in, but I’m not quite sure yet if it’s love. I’d like to explore that further but I’m just so tired of feeling like his dirty little secret.” Harry pushed open the auditorium doors and we were assaulted by the late afternoon sunlight. I flicked my sunglasses down from where they sat on top of my head and said,
“I can relate to that feeling. It was how I felt when Ryan and I first realized we had feelings for each other.” I thought about our parents then and our hometown and said, “Honestly, I still feel that way sometimes. You know our parents still don’t know about us, so going home for the holidays was kind of hard. Our situation is a little different since our parents are married, though, at least we got to spend the holidays together.” I was spending a lot of time lately trying to draw on the positive things because the negative ones only weighed me down. I had it better than Harry. I live with Ryan and the people here at school know about us and for the most part accept us as a couple. Harry’s guy lives in some mansion on Long Island with his parents still and that was where he had spent his holidays. Harry flew home to California alone and I know that was hard on him.
“It’s not a good feeling and although I agreed to give him a little more time…again, I don’t think I can do it much longer.”
Harry and I were making our way across campus toward the baseball stadium where Ryan was practicing. When we reached the bleachers I glanced over toward a group of Ryan’s teammates in the bullpen just outside of the dugout. I smiled and my smile was met with four hard stares. I looked back at Harry and said, “As frustrating as it is, it’s easy to understand why someone might
worry about being ostracized from their friends and family when they come out.” That was something I repeated to myself often. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if it was truly what I believed or me just making excuses for Ryan. “Ryan’s coach is big on tolerance and so far none of the guys have given him a hard time about being with me…but obviously,” I cocked my head toward the group that had gone back to practicing their pitching skills. “Some of them aren’t so accepting.”
“I’m trying to stay understanding,” he said, “Because I know you’re right.”
“Some people are worth fighting for,” I told him. He smiled because he’d used those same words to me when I’d been depressed and worried that Ryan was losing interest in me.
“Wise words,” he said with a wink. “Have fun tonight and I’ll see you tomorrow.” I shook his hand and climbed up onto the bleachers as he walked away. I scanned the field and found what, or who I was looking for, playing shortstop. The butterflies in my stomach still took flight every time I laid eyes on him. Ryan is beautiful, and not many people, men or women miss that fact when they look at him. His body is a work of art. His smile can melt an ordinary human into a puddle of hot flesh and his green eyes practically glow. I spent years falling for him without even realizing it. He’s just got this magnetism about him that ordinary humans gravitate toward. What I finally discovered about Ryan once our parents married and we were forced to spend time together was that internally he was struggling with demons no one would have ever guessed existed within him. Ryan wanted one thing more than anything in the world, and that was for his father to be proud of him. Marty is a good guy, but he’s hard on Ryan and he expects way too much sometimes from his only son. Because of that, Ryan felt like he had to hide who he was from his own father and that resulted in self-esteem issues that ruled his life for a long time.
The crack of a bat as it connected with the ball brought me out of my silent reverie. I watched as the ball sailed up and over the diamond and toward the fence. The guy that hit it was on his way to first base so I couldn’t see his face, but I’d bet money that it was split wide open with a smile. As soon as the ball dropped down over the home-run fence his teammates began to cheer and congratulate him. Ryan was smiling and his beautiful green eyes looked at the guy running toward him with awe. He stuck out his hand for a high-five as the home-run hitter ran past him and I watched as the guy actually stopped and grabbed Ryan’s hand instead of just slapping it. After he let go he jumped up and gave Ryan a chest-bump and I had to quell the surge of ridiculous jealousy that welled up inside of me. I forced my eyes from Ryan and back to the guy standing behind home plate, waiting for it to be his turn. I could only guess that he was filled with hope that his own ball would go sailing for the fence when he hit it. I know from listening to Ryan how good that makes them feel. But, it was a concept that was foreign to me. Ryan told me once that there was nothing in this world more exciting than the crack of the bat making perfect contact with the ball. He said that he doesn’t even have to be the one swinging the bat. That sound thrills him no matter where he is at on the field and if I live to be a hundred, I won’t understand it. To me, the most exciting thing in the world is the way Ryan looks at me when no one else is looking. I live for the day when he looks at me like that when the whole world is looking on. I want to be like baseball, the single most thrilling thing in his life.
With a heavy sigh, I whispered, “Baseball.” I’ve always wondered what prompted a fully grown man to live for it. What made him want to don a pair of shoes with spikes on the bottom of them and swing a rounded piece of wood at a ball that is sailing toward you at lightning speed? I used to hate the game. In all fairness, I guess the truth was that I blamed it more than I hated it. I grew up blaming it for the hateful players. I held the game accountable for the many times that I got my ass kicked by the homophobic players. I blamed it for the insults they hurled at me almost daily and the tricks they played on me simply because my discomfort entertained them. Most of all I blamed it for its hold on the one person I wanted most, Ryan.
Being in college and away from the resident homophobes of my hometown has made me hate it less. But although that hate has morphed into something less violent the emotion it brings out in me now is almost as dangerous. I no longer hate it, but instead, I envy it. I’m jealous of the game every time it takes Ryan away from me. I’m jealous of the hold it has on him and jealous of the bond it forms between him and his teammates. I’ve never admitted that to anyone, not even Ryan. I’m ashamed to admit it to myself. But as I look out on the field now and feel the stares of the select few members of the team that still strongly disapprove of mine and Ryan’s relationship, I have to wonder what has really changed. Yes, Ryan has admitted that he loves me to me and to everyone that we’ve met here at school. But, will he ever admit that to the people who matter the most? Will he ever be able to look his father in the eyes and tell him that this is the life he has chosen and that Marty will just have to accept that? I can honestly say that I don’t see it happening anytime soon. When we were home for winter break Ryan and his dad played baseball in the backyard and Marty grilled him about how many women he’d met since he’d been away and why he didn’t have a girlfriend. Ryan joked with him about it and without coming right out and saying so, he gave Marty the impression he was still the player everyone perceived him to be in high school. I could tell it made Marty proud and because of that, Ryan was happy.
Ryan is the love of my life, and he loves me too, which makes me the luckiest guy in the world, but until we tell our folks how we feel we’ll never really be able to share it with the rest of the world. So in effect, I am still his dirty little secret and nothing has really changed. Ryan and I are roommates, lovers, and friends and late at night we sometimes lay awake and talk about having a real life together once college is behind us. Those are my favorite times with him when his guard is completely down and his soul is open and vulnerable. Those are the times when I’m able to convince myself that one day it will all work out.
I watched for another half an hour or so until they all came in off the field, got a few words of wisdom from their coach and headed for the locker room. Instead of following the rest of his team, Ryan came toward me with a smile on his face. I stood up just before he reached me and was taken completely by surprise when those sexy full lips of his claimed mine and he pushed his tongue into my mouth. My body melded into him with a mind of its own and I have no idea how long that kiss lasted…but it was hot. When he broke it I was breathless and slightly light-headed. “What was that for?”
He was trying to catch his own breath but he grinned and said, “Because I love you and I missed you today. I’m going to shower, but I’ll hurry. I’m really looking forward to going out tonight.”
I watched his sexy body walk away with aches in places inside of me that only Ryan can reach. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe things have changed. Maybe my patience was paying off.
CHAPTER TWO
RYAN
As soon as our orders were placed at Matt’s, I leaned back in my chair and heaved out a deep breath. My body was tired, but it was a good tired. I missed this in the off-season like crazy.
“Tough practice?” Alex asked, taking a sip of his water.
“No, just the opposite actually,” I said with a smile. I thought about that ball that Tom hit earlier and couldn’t help but smile. It was a thing of beauty. “Were you there when Tom hit that ball over the fence?” Alex smiled, I’m sure at my enthusiasm. I know baseball doesn’t thrill him, although I haven’t been able to figure out why.
“Yeah, I was there. It was a nice hit.”
“Nice? No, nice does not even begin to describe it. It was beautiful.” I winked at him and said, “I got a little turned on.”
He laughed. “Wow, I knew you were a pervert but…”
Laughing too I said, “Hell I’ll bet I wasn’t the only one out there on the field with a hard-on. With a slugger like Tom on the team, we might just take the cham
pionship this year. The last time the university team did that was in 1999.”
“That’s great.”
“Hell yeah it is! Championship teams get noticed by the major leagues. That puts us all one step closer to getting drafted. Tom was supposed to go to USC and at that last minute decided to come east instead. We got lucky.”
“I’m happy for you and your team.” I could tell he didn’t know what else to say beyond that, but I love him for trying. Before I could say anything else about baseball he said, “Mom called today.”
“Oh yeah? Is she doing okay?”
“She’s good. She bought tickets for her and Marty to the Phantom production next month.” I tried not to visibly bristle but I think I lost the battle judging by the look on Alex’s face. I knew he was really looking forward to his Phantom run and I was proud of him for landing the role. It only made sense that his Mom and my Dad would want to be there for his shining moment. I just knew that NYU was too much of a drive for them to make in one day, it’s almost a four-hour drive from our home in Cooperstown. I also knew that although it was a really short flight, my dad wouldn’t get on an airplane. He had a good friend that was on one of the planes during 9/11 and he’s refused to set foot on one since. I shuddered at the thought of them hanging around all weekend while Alex and I tried to hide our relationship from them. Our apartment didn’t even have two beds. How the hell would we explain that? I was thankful that the waiter dropped off the appetizer I’d ordered. Baseball practice always leaves me starving, but it also gave me something to occupy my mouth before I said anything that would hurt or piss off Alex. He had been gently nudging me to tell our parents about us a lot lately and I was putting him off. The whole situation made me a nervous wreck and I think it did him too. Our comfortable relationship was strained a lot lately and the stress was beginning to pile up.
