After The Snap

by Peyton Miller

  While in California, Seth met new teammates, trainers, and other people associated with the team. The atmosphere in the locker room and in the office was near jovial. He knew without a doubt that he would enjoy playing for the Chargers.

  June had flown by way too quickly. He’d spent almost no time with Channing, and everything seemed wrong with their relationship. Hell, he didn’t think they really had any type of relationship, not after realizing Channing hadn’t returned even one of his calls while he’d been in San Diego.

  “I don’t see why I need to leave so soon,” Seth had said only a few hours after he’d arrived at Channing’s house.

  “I’m going to be traveling a lot next month. You should head out. We won’t really be together anyway, so there’s no reason for you to stay here in Florida.”

  He stared at Channing, wondering what the heck was going on. “I need to ship my boxes. I guess I could get that done.”

  “I’ll help.” Channing already had Seth’s boxes loaded in the back of his car except two that were half empty and had contained the clothes that had been in Channing’s closet but were now folded neatly on Channing’s bed.

  Seth boxed up the rest of his items and then started his dirty clothes from his trip in the washer. He was standing in the hall near the spare room he’d been planning on storing his clothes in when he noticed the door was ajar. Seth looked over his shoulder and was about to take a step toward the room when Channing walked into the house.

  “What are you doing?” Channing moved down the hall and closed the door.

  “What is in that room?” Seth asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. You can finish washing, then I guess you’ll be on your way.”

  “I just got home.”

  “But you need to be in California and I won’t be around.”

  Seth nodded and stared at the washer, wondering how long it would take to finish his clothes. They drove to the shipping center and he unloaded his boxes, arranging for his things to be shipped in the next few weeks. Once they were finished, they drove back to Channing’s house and he knew now more than ever, that something fundamental had changed in his relationship with Channing. His clothes were done in the washer, and though Channing was being a dick, he started another load, not wanting to travel with dirty clothes. He had a place to stay in California until he inked the deal on the condo, but he wouldn’t have access to a washer without heading to a Laundromat. Not that there was anything wrong with that, he was just tired of being bullied by Channing.

  That night, Seth lay in bed beside Channing, listening to him snore. Channing had kissed him, but other than that, it was like they weren’t even friends. He turned and stared at Channing’s profile, wondering once again what the hell he’d done wrong. At four in the morning, Seth was sick of staring at the ceiling. It wasn’t worth it to stay here and try to get Channing to want him again. Moving in had been a mistake. He had a new life waiting for him in San Diego and there was nothing between he and Channing.

  After a quick shower, Seth checked for his things in the bathroom, packing away the last of his toiletries. He looked through Channing’s closet, then moved to the other door that he’d assumed was a closet. It was opposite Channing’s and next to the vanity Seth used. He turned away from the door and did a slow circle, thinking about the room and where it was in the house. Yes, it would have to be a closet. He tried the door, finding it still locked. Seth sighed, realizing that he would either have to freak out and throw a fit, demanding entrance through the door, or give it up. With the way things had been going between he and Channing, it would be best to let it go. There wasn’t anything to fight for if last night’s lack of interest was any indication of how things really were between them.

  The locked doors had bugged him fiercely. He knew the moment he’d tried to enter the extra bedroom and been yelled at that Channing had secrets he wasn’t ever going to share.

  Seth tossed a near empty bottle of shampoo into the trash and accidently dropped his mostly full bottle of conditioner into the can. He bent to retrieve the conditioner and saw a used condom at the bottom of the can. Blood throbbed in his head and he had to place his hand on the wall to steady himself. How long had that condom been in there? A day, two? Had it been there since the last time they’d had sex almost a week ago?

  Seth crumpled to the floor and placed his head in his hands unsure if he should cry or laugh at his suspicions. Being with Channing had always been a rollercoaster, and this was just another level to the ride that Channing would never explain to him.

  Slowly, Seth came to his feet, gave one last look and stepped into the bedroom, his bags packed. Channing sat up and blinked.

  “You leaving already?”

  “Yes. I’m packed and ready to go.”

  “Okay.” Channing rolled over and pulled the covers to his chin.

  Seth was so shocked by Channing’s lack of emotions and caring that he walked out of the bedroom and didn’t even stop in the kitchen for something to get him going. He would find a coffee shop along the way.

  Seth thought about turning back more than once, but he had a long drive ahead of him and he didn’t really want to have a fight with Channing. Leaving the way he had felt wrong. They weren’t broken up, but they obviously weren’t together.

  Since he hadn’t really slept the night before, he was forced to find a cheap hotel before he left Florida. Sleep pulled him under and he didn’t wake until the next morning when the sun was just barely tinting the sky with pinks and blues. Channing still hadn’t called. Twenty-four hours and he didn’t even get a text. Their relationship really was over and he was beginning to feel glad about it ending. So much had been wrong with how they were between each other.

  On the fourth of July, he pushed through, driving late into the night though he wanted to stop more than once and watch fireworks. By the end of the fifth he was so close to San Diego, and yet still so far away. The next day he rolled into the parking lot of the extended stay hotel he would be camping in until the condo was his. He was exhausted and cranky, but excited to be starting a new chapter in his life.

  He called Channing but the man didn’t answer, so Seth left a message, being short and concise. “I made it. I’m in California. You know my number.” Seth stored his bags in his room and then went out for food. Midway through his meal, Channing sent him a text.

  Channing: Great, I bet you’ll love it there. I’m so excited for you.

  Seth had to read the text twice before he turned off the screen, shaking his head as he thought about the ping ponging his emotions had taken all because of Channing. When he finished with his meal, his phone rang. It was Channing. He thought about not answering, but curiosity won.

  “Hello.”

  “Seth, it’s great to hear your voice. I miss you.”

  “You sure didn’t express that when I came home from my trip in San Diego.”

  “You can’t blame me for that. You’d been traveling so much—so distant. Really, I don’t see how you think it would work with you gone all the time. I’m willing to make an effort, but you have to meet me halfway.”

  His immediate reaction was to apologize, but the words stuck on his tongue. He couldn’t tell Channing that he was sorry, because he had nothing to be sorry for. Seth slid into the driver’s seat and turned over the engine.

  “Listen, I need to do a few things. I’ll call you in a bit.” Seth hung up, tossing the phone to the seat beside him. What the hell had just happened?

  The next morning, he sent a text to Channing, just to say hi. After a few hours Channing texted him back.

  Channing: I miss you so much. Maybe I can come out next week.

  Seth couldn’t fathom why Channing was being so cold then hot. And did he really want Channing here? This was his place, his town. Did he want the secret of Channing marring his life just when things were getting good?

  Seth: Sure. Call me with the details.

  Of course Channing never actually called with
any details and really it was fine with him. Seth started camp with the Chargers on the twentieth which took all of his time. At the end of the day after practices, he was beat. He fell into bed, slept, ate, then went back to practice and it started all over again each day with him napping every chance he got.

  The NFL wasn’t like high school, or even college, this was tough. He worked harder, took more crap, and fought to hold his place in the lineup, and still didn’t know if they really wanted him. They’d paid him real money, made a contract with him, but there was the constant threat hanging over his head that they could let him go at any moment, trade him to another team where he’d be lost on the sidelines. At practice, and when he was at home, Seth never forgot, not once, that he was replaceable. Walk on guys eyed him like he was the enemy, and he was. Those guys would be cut before the first game, and if he was good enough, he’d still be here playing pro ball, and they’d be back working the car wash, digging trenches, or doing sales, but most importantly, they wouldn’t be in the NFL and that pissed them off.

  The days were long, and no matter what he did, how hard he worked, he couldn’t shake the fear that gripped him. His spot wasn’t guaranteed, and the coaches made sure he knew that little fact. At night, he had dreams that he’d been cut, and during the day the dreams felt closer to reality than a fantasy.

  In the first preseason game, he started. They won by forty points. He felt like he’d accomplished something. When he got home, he called Channing, but the time difference meant that Channing was already asleep. Disappointed that he didn’t get to speak to Channing, Seth left a message. Of course, he wasn’t sure why he was calling Channing. Maybe it was left over emotions. Regret filled him before he ended the call.

  He half expected to hear back from Channing the next day, but it was another five days before the man called and at that time, Seth was about to get on a plane and couldn’t talk. His team was traveling and his life was spent in hotel rooms or on the field. He didn’t talk to Channing for two weeks, not until he saw an article on the Internet with Channing’s wife draped all over him, a smile on her face. Channing was staring at Samantha, looking like he was mesmerized by her. Seth’s heart crashed and when he could see clearly, his anger spiked, filling Seth with rage. He was glad he was alone, because if anyone had been with him they would know he was gay because there wasn’t any holding back on his part. He dialed Channing, not caring that it was the middle of the day, or that Channing might be with other people. His call rolled to voicemail and Seth immediately called back. Three times the call rolled to voicemail before Channing picked up.

  “What the fuck?” Seth said.

  “Could you hold on?” Channing’s voice was even, his tone light.

  Seth was put on hold and that only made him even angrier. Channing wasn’t even trying, and he’d given so much. How could Channing have done this to him?

  “Hey, Seth. Sorry It’s been so long, but it’s football season.”

  “What the fuck? I mean, what the actual fuck? You’re still married to her. You told me you were finished.” He didn’t want to hear excuses about football taking up time. Fuck, he was playing in the NFL and dealing with everything else. His life was hell, real hell, and Channing was still fucking married. How the hell had he missed that? Why the fuck had he believed Channing when he said they were divorced? Fuck, had Channing actually told him they were divorced?

  “It’s just a ruse. You know, keeping up appearances. Samantha understands that we’re over. I have to look good. I mean this is my livelihood. They want me married.”

  Anger spiked. “But you told me you were over, that she was your ex. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me the truth?”

  “Seth…it’s just—”

  “No, it’s not just. I’m not just something you can play at. You told me we were going to have a future. You didn’t mean any of it, did you?”

  There was silence for a moment before Channing spoke. “Babe, you know, we just don’t see each other that often, and this thing with Samantha it’s not real. I mean, in a few years you’ll be out and I can really get a divorce.”

  Pain lanced Seth’s heart and he thought he was going to throw up. He and Channing were over, done, and he’d been an idiot for thinking what he had with Channing had been special.

  “Is this why you encouraged me to leave early?” Seth had to know but didn’t really want to. Knowing meant he had to face reality and reality from Channing might just kill him.

  Silence was the answer he got. It didn’t take much for him to put the pieces together. He’d been an idiot. There’d been so many times Channing could have called but didn’t. And how could he have believed that a man like Channing really was divorced? Why didn’t he really look into it?

  “Don’t be that way. Seth, really, this anger doesn’t suit you. You’re a great guy, but you know I have to keep up the image of a college coach. If you can change your tone, then maybe we can still be together. You know I’ve given so much to this relationship.”

  The words Channing said were even more painful than the lack of contact. “Relationship? What the fuck? Didn’t I mean anything to you?”

  “Of course you did—do. You mean forever.”

  He felt like he was going crazy. Channing could always sway him, always make him see it Channing’s way, but he didn’t want to see Channing’s side of this story. He was hurt, and angry, and he’d been giving Channing passes since that first day when Channing had pressed him up against the cold metal lockers and slid into him, changing his world. This time he wouldn’t give in, he wouldn’t cave. It hurt, but he couldn’t just sit back and allow Channing to keep treating him this way. He wanted something real, and the thing with Channing had never been real.

  “Then why don’t you ever call me?” Seth asked.

  “I call. We talk,” Channing said.

  “No, you don’t call, and no we don’t talk. Otherwise I would have known that you were still married to Samantha.” Seth felt empty, like he’d lost his best friend. His head spun and he was going to be sick. He was the other man, the person who had cheated.

  “Babe, don’t be like this.” Channing’s voice was harsh and unforgiving, and that more than the words Channing had spoken told Seth all he needed to know. This had always been a one-sided relationship and he’d allowed Channing to keep it one sided. In the weeks since moving to San Diego and being on his own, he’d had time to think, and he didn’t like what he’d been thinking. Little pieces of the puzzle were broken, showing him that what he and Channing had wasn’t real. This was the end.

  “Fuck, I need more than a married man. I can’t be with you, not like this.”

  “Seth, don’t do this.” For the first time since they’d started this phone conversation Channing sounded desperate.

  Seth was shaking his head as he tried to stay firm. “I can’t do the ups and downs. I need to concentrate on football. I’m sorry, Channing. I’ll talk to you later. When you figure out what you want, call me.”

  Seth hung up, his heart shattered. He’d never find all of the pieces and at the moment, he was too numb to care. He showered, then slid into bed, setting his alarm so he would wake about two hours before his evening practice and have enough time to digest the meal he would consume before hitting the field. He was done with relationships, done with Channing, done with men. It fucking hurt that nothing had been real, but allowing Channing to run over him hurt more.

  Chapter Five

  Colby reread the email Neil sent for a third time and shook his head. Could he trust Neil ever again? The man wasn’t evil, he’d just been misguided—at least that was Neil’s excuse, and he promised it wouldn’t happen again. Unsure if he was making the right move, ten days after the split, Colby unblocked Neil’s number. He stared at his phone, almost afraid it would ring. Nothing happened. After five minutes, Colby pocketed the phone, rolling his eyes at his overreaction. He’d almost forgotten that he’d unblocked Neil when his phone rang at four that afternoon. He plu
cked it out of his pocket as he made his way to the elevator after a meeting.

  “Colby Larsen here. How can I help you?”

  “Hey, it’s Neil.”

  Colby’s feet stopped moving and someone behind him didn’t stop, stumbling over him. Colby didn’t budge as the guy staggered around him, grumbling all the way to the elevator. His mouth dried and his head swam. When the elevator dinged he realized he was standing with his mouth open in the middle of his client’s cube space, fifty some odd people staring at him as his heart shattered once again.

  Why had he unblocked Neil’s number? A quick glance showed a handful of people still watching him, and the guy who’d been walking behind him was now glaring at him from inside the elevator car. The doors to the elevator slid closed and he knew he had to move.

  “Give me a few, I’ll call you back.” Colby hung up and pocketed his phone. He headed to the elevator, pressing the button to head down. He didn’t have to wait long as the second elevator stopped a few seconds after he hit the button. Anger, pain, and confusion swam through him. On the ride down he didn’t get any new insight, no great intelligence about what he should do. Once in his car, he stared at his phone, wondering if he should actually call Neil back.

  A text came through. Just one word. Please. Colby sighed and relented.

  “Colby, I’m sorry. Can we talk?” Neil said the second the phone was answered.

  “Talk,” he spit out, not sure exactly how he wanted to come off, but angry felt fine.

  “No, face to face. Please, I just want to talk to you over dinner. You have to eat, right?”

  Colby rolled his eyes, hating himself a little as he said yes.

  “Just send me the address of the place and the time. I’m in town until Sunday.” He hung up, regretting his decision to meet with Neil before the screen on his phone even turned black.

  Leading up to the date with Neil, he’d convinced himself that talking wasn’t bad. They had spent three years together, and one of those years they’d lived in the same apartment, sleeping in the same bed. He’d been in love, or what he had thought was love, and Neil had been nice through most of their relationship. His imagination had probably just been working overtime. Maybe Neil hadn’t cheated that much, and it had only been Deshaun.