by M. E. Parker
“Why’d you even come over, Chance? Why didn’t you just go home with Marissa Mirinelli?”
He sat up suddenly. “What? Who? Who the hell is Marissa Merindeli?”
“It’s Mirinelli,” I corrected him.
“Whatever, Andy. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I reached over to my nightstand, turned on my phone, and pulled up the picture. “Maybe this will refresh your memory,” I said, throwing my phone at him.
He picked it up. “Are you being serious right now? I don’t even know her.”
“You know her well enough to kiss her,” I said, my cheeks heating in embarrassment and anger. The truth was I had no right to be acting the way I was acting. I had no claim on Chance Wyrick. We weren’t dating. He wasn’t my boyfriend. He was someone I’d just been hooking up with for the past few weeks. I was self-aware enough to realize I was acting like a complete lunatic. But I couldn’t help it. Chance brought it out in me.
“Jesus, Andy, I don’t even know her. She just walked up and asked if I would take a picture with her. And, despite what that looks like, I wasn’t even kissing her. She asked me a question about the game, and I was yelling the answer in her ear because it was so fucking loud in there you couldn’t hear anything.”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re exclusive. I mean, we’re just hooking up. Right? It doesn’t mean anything.” I rubbed my face. “Chance, I just don’t—I mean, I’m not the kind of person that—” I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to say, or a diplomatic way to say it. “I’m just gonna say it. I’m not gonna mess around with you while you’re dating someone else.”
“Whoa. Where’s this coming from? I’m not dating anyone. I told you. I don’t even know that girl. And, in case you’ve forgotten, I just told you I was gay. Like two weeks ago. And I’m assuming you believe me, considering I’ve had my mouth on your dick practically every night for the last few weeks.”
I shrugged. “Well, that picture… It looks—”
“It looks like what, Andy?” he asked, interrupting me. He was suddenly rummaging around in his jeans that were in a pile of clothes on the floor. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through it. “It looks like this?” he asked, handing me his phone.
It was a picture Cam posted on Instagram the night before. Cam was standing next to me smiling and Ben was hugging me from behind and kissing me on the cheek. “That’s different,” I said, feeling stupid.
“Is it, Andy? Because it looks like a guy has his arms around you and he’s kissing you.”
I coughed. “Well, that’s Ben. He’s one of my best friends. That’s nothing. We were just playing around.”
Chance raised an eyebrow. “So, you two aren’t dating?”
“Okay. Okay. I get your point. Fuck, Chance. I just don’t know what we’re doing.”
He reached up and gently touched my cheek. “I don’t know exactly either. But whatever it is, it means something to me. It’s important to me and I wouldn’t fuck it up by dating anyone else. I don’t want to see anyone but you.”
I nodded, feeling like I could breathe for the first time since I saw that stupid picture. “Okay. So, it’s just us?” I asked, feeling insecure.
He smiled. “I don’t want anyone else.”
“Me neither,” I said, hoping he didn’t notice the crack in my voice.
“It’s just us,” Chance said.
chapter twenty-five
Chance
I left Andy’s apartment that morning feeling uneasy. I was glad he finally told me why he was mad. I was glad that we’d talked. A little part of me was even glad that he got jealous seeing that picture of me with that girl. Because the thought of Andy with another guy drove me crazy. It wasn’t a lie when I told him I didn’t want anyone else. But the truth was, I wasn’t ready to define what was between us. And deep down, I knew he needed more than what I was willing to give. I just wasn’t sure I could give it to him. There were still times when I could hear my father’s voice telling me how wrong Andy and I were.
But still, I’d been so happy the last few weeks. It wasn’t perfect, but it was more than I ever dreamed of. It was more than enough for me. But I was beginning to see that Andy needed more, and that morning was a wake-up call. I needed to seriously consider coming out sooner rather than later. I couldn’t lose Andy again. I couldn’t. He seemed okay after we talked. But it wasn’t realistic for me to think that he’d put up with me sneaking in and out of his bed every night for much longer.
I sighed and inwardly cursed myself for being such a coward as I descended the stairs to exit his apartment building. I hadn’t even talked to him about Christmas break. We were both leaving that day to drive back to Wytheville. I wasn’t sure if we’d even be able to see each other while we were home. Two weeks. I shook my head. There was no way I could go two weeks without Andy. I wondered if there was a way we could sneak away and see each other without our parents knowing. Maybe I’ll call him in a couple of hours, I thought to myself.
As soon as I pushed open the apartment building door, a burst of freezing air hit me in the face. That was when I heard someone from behind me clear his throat. I jumped at the sound and turned around. Cameron was standing in the corner of the lobby, leaning against the wall behind the door. I felt the color drain from my face as our eyes met. He had a cup of coffee in each hand. His long, curly blonde hair was in a messy bun on top of his head and he had a thick plaid scarf wrapped around his neck. He was wearing faded, ripped jeans and a black leather jacket. “In a hurry, quarterback?” he asked with a smirk on his face.
I shook my head and began to stammer. “Cameron? Hey, I-I was just…” I pointed towards the stairs. I thought about lying to him. I thought for a split second that I could tell him I knew a girl that lived in the building. But, for some reason, I couldn’t make myself say the words. “Uh, I was just headed back to my dorm. Good to see you again,” I said, turning my back to him.
“Not so fast, footballer. You and I need to have a conversation.”
“About?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
He cocked his head and looked at me. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe about whether or not I should be charging you rent?”
Fuck! I didn’t know how to respond. I just shook my head and turned around.
“So, you’re just going to ignore me? You’ve spent every night at my apartment for the last month. I think I’ve earned the right to have this conversation.” It hadn’t been a month. It had been three weeks. But I wasn’t about to correct him, and he was pissing me off. The last thing I wanted to be doing that morning was talking to him about Andy and me.
“Look,” I said, moving closer to him, “this is none of your business. I don’t even know you. If you have a problem with me, maybe you should take it up with Andy.”
Cam cocked his head. “Well, you know, I thought about that. But then I decided it would make Andy feel like shit for outing you.”
I shook my head and opened the door again. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, really? I suppose the two of you have just been catching up on old times? Locked up in his bedroom. Every night. For the last month?” he said, taking a step closer. He was in my face. I resisted the urge to push him away from me.
“Like I said before, it’s none of your fucking business,” I growled.
“Maybe not. But Andy’s my best friend. He’s the best person I know, and if you gave one shit about him, I wouldn’t need to be having this conversation with you.”
“I think I know Andy better than you do, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t like you getting in my face right now, and I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate you starting this shit behind his back. So, get the fuck outta my face.” Every muscle in my body tensed up. I needed him to back off. I could never hurt the guy, I knew how much he meant to Andy, but it took everything I had to turn my back and walk away.
“You don’t know Andy. You may think you
know him, but you don’t. If you knew him, you’d know that he doesn’t want to be anyone’s dirty fucking secret. You’d know that every time you sneak in our apartment after midnight and leave before the sun comes up, you make him feel like he’s not good enough, like there’s something wrong with him, like he deserves to be hidden away.” Cameron’s words cut deep. I looked up at him. He was pissed. His nostrils flared and his face was red. I was pretty sure he wanted to hit me.
Part of me wanted to hit him too. I was pissed. I didn’t appreciate the confrontation, but what was worse was he was right. Deep down, I knew he was right. I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t want to respond. I wanted to get the hell out of there. Suddenly, I heard laughter drifting from the top of the stairs. I looked up and saw two girls coming down the stairs. I recognized one of them immediately. She was a girl Travis hooked up with occasionally. She would know me. My heart stopped. Fear gripped every part of me. I wondered if Cameron would out me right then and there. Even if he didn’t, she would tell Travis she saw me there with Cameron.
“Chance.” I heard Cameron say my name, but I couldn’t respond. “Chance. Jesus, you’re white as a ghost. What’s going on?” I finally turned to look at him. He reached out to hand me a cup of coffee. “Here. Take this. No one should have to have this conversation this early in the morning without proper caffeination.” I looked back up at the stairs. “Jesus, Chance, just take the coffee. Come on, I’m giving you a ride home.” He shoved the coffee at me. I took it from him as he pushed past me through the door. “Well, come on if you don’t want them to see you having an argument with the biggest gay in the building at six o’clock in the morning,” he called out without looking back at me.
I jogged down the front steps of the building and watched as he opened the passenger door to his shiny black BMW parked out front. I stood frozen on the sidewalk while he ran around to the driver’s side of the car. He looked up at me with a smirk. “Did you need me to help you into the car? Come on if you don’t want to be seen,” he said as I heard the door to Andy’s apartment building click. Without thinking about it too much, I jumped inside the car. Warmth immediately enveloped me. He must have left it running. “Where are we going, quarterback?”
I looked over at him. “Wimbley Hall,” I managed to utter.
“That’s a freshman dorm. I thought all you football guys lived in those posh condos on the other side of campus.” He looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
I shrugged. “Yeah, well, I don’t.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I have a private room at the dorm. I like it.” And I get to watch Andy jog past my window every morning.
He glanced over at me. “Drink your coffee. It’s getting cold.” I took a sip and closed my eyes, feeling the warm liquid flow down my throat as I hoped that Cameron and I were done talking. We drove in silence for a while.
When Cameron passed the street to my dorm, I cleared my throat. “You missed the turn.”
He rolled his eyes as he turned down the next road and pulled into a parking lot that overlooked the river and came to a stop. “So, what’s your deal? Seriously?” he asked as he put the car in park and looked over at me. His bright blue eyes were glistening with anger.
My heart pounded in my chest. “I don’t have a deal,” I mumbled, trying to decide if I should just get out of the car and walk back to the dorm.
“Look, normally I wouldn’t give a shit. If you want to play the straight guy and get a little dick on the side, that’s your business. But this is Andy we’re talking about. If you guys were half as close as Andy says you were, you have to know that Andy’s not wired that way. He doesn’t sneak around. He doesn’t hook up with random guys. He wants a boyfriend. He wants hearts and flowers. And he fucking deserves all of that because he’s good. Every part of him is good. He’s more than some closeted, homophobic quarterback’s piece of ass. He’s better than that. Don’t you see that? Do you even care about him?”
“Of course, I fucking care about him. You don’t know anything about us. You don’t know shit.”
“Maybe I don’t know everything. But I know enough to know that when this ends—and it will end—your jock friends will get suspicious. You’ll find some other secret little fuck buddy—or go back to cheerleaders and beauty queens or whatever it is you fucking closet cases do—and it will destroy him. Wasn’t once enough, Chance? You don’t care about him. If you did, you wouldn’t treat him like a dirty fucking secret.”
“You’re wrong. You’ve got it all wrong. That’s not—what the fuck do you want from me, Cameron? What do you want?” I screamed.
“I don’t know. I don’t want you to hurt him,” he roared. His face was bright red. His jaw was clenched. His fist was gripped tightly around the steering wheel and I wondered if it was there to keep himself from punching me in the face. I deserved it. He turned his head away from me and stared out the window.
“I don’t want to hurt him,” I said in almost a whisper.
“So tell me then.”
“Tell you what? What do you want to know?”
“Well, for starters, why don’t you tell me what just happened back there? You were pissed when we were talking, but when you saw those girls, you freaked out. Why? Are you dating one of them?”
I shook my head and rubbed my face. “No, I just know one of them. She’s a friend of a friend.”
It was Cameron’s turn to shake his head. “So, why’d you look so freaked out?”
I laid my head back on the headrest. “I wasn’t freaked out. I just didn’t want to answer her questions. Look, I know Andy’s important to you. I get that. He’s important to me too. I’m sure this is coming from a good place, but I’m also sure Andy wouldn’t like it.”
I was surprised when Cam responded with a sigh. “I’m sure he wouldn’t like it either. I thought about talking to him about it, but then I decided it would put him in an impossible position. He would either have to lie to me or betray you.”
I glanced over at him. He was right. I would be doing the same thing if I thought Cameron was hurting him. “I’m gay,” I blurted out. My heart pounded in my chest. I didn’t know Cameron. He could post it on Instagram in a matter of seconds. But if Andy trusted him, I was going to trust him.
A smile crept across his lips. “I kind of figured. I’m no Columbo, but I managed to solve that mystery pretty quickly.”
I looked down at my lap. “You’re the second person I’ve ever told. Andy was the first. That night we met, when I showed up at your apartment.”
“Okay. So, is this a new revelation? How long have you known?”
“Probably, deep down, since I was eleven or twelve. But I could never admit it to myself. Not until last year.”
“What happened last year?”
“Nothing really. I think I just got tired.”
“Tired?”
“Yeah. Tired of trying to be someone I wasn’t. Tired of hoping I would change. Tired of praying to be different. Tired. Tired of everything. Exhausted.”
“So, why tell Andy?”
“I don’t know. I saw him. I’d never stopped thinking about him. He was my best friend. I treated him like shit. Then I saw him in the mountains and we— Anyway, I should have told him then. I should have told him the second I saw him. I was a coward. I apologized over and over for the way I treated him. But I couldn’t say the words out loud. Then I watched him drive away from me and I knew that my apologies would never mean anything unless I told him the truth. That’s why I showed up that night at your apartment.”
I left out the part about what happened between Andy and me in the tent that night. I glanced over at Cameron, listening quietly. He was more relaxed. It felt good to talk to him, so I just kept talking. “After I told him, I felt so relieved. But I also told him how terrified I was to come out and he was like, ‘Who says you have to? You don’t have to tell anyone else until you’re ready. I won’t tell anyone.’ And I, I don’t know, I felt s
afe, I guess. Everything he said to me was perfect.”
“Yeah, Andy’s pretty damn perfect,” Cameron said with a grin slowly passing across his face.
“I meant it when I said I didn’t want to hurt him. I really do care about him. I just, if it weren’t for football and my father—fuck, I do care about him, Cameron.” I glanced back up at him. For some reason, I needed him to believe me.
“I’m starting to believe you, quarterback. I don’t really know about football, but I do know something about fathers.” I watched as he fiddled with the silver pendant around his neck. “You know, Andy’s right. You come out when your ready. You decide when and how. No one should ever make that choice for you. But, listen, that doesn’t mean you have to sneak in and out of our apartment every night. It’s not 1954. It’s perfectly permissible to associate with gay people. If you want to make this whole thing more bearable for Andy, don’t hide him away. Don’t make him lie to his best friends. When we get back from winter break, come over to Ben and Jordy’s for game night on Saturday night. You can trust us. None of us would ever betray you, because that would hurt Andy. And I’m not saying you have to hold his hand or kiss him on the sidewalk, but there’s no reason you couldn’t meet him for lunch between classes or even grab dinner together every now and then. Just don’t make him feel like it’s him you’re ashamed of.”
I let out a deep breath. I’m such a fucking asshole. “Oh god, no. I’m not ashamed of him.”
“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t be. He’s like the hottest gay on campus.” He looked down at his fingernails. “Next to yours truly, of course.” An involuntary chuckle escaped from my throat. “And, for the record, you shouldn’t feel ashamed of yourself either. You should never feel ashamed to be yourself. But you’ll get there eventually.” He smiled and gave me wink.
I laid my head back on the headrest and let out a breath. “Thanks, man.”
“Awww… look at us bonding and shit.”
I laughed. “Is that what we’re doing?”
