Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
“Nothing,” I lied. “Why do you ask?”
“Believe it or not, I wasn’t born yesterday. You guys are tight and that’s great, but…I dunno, I gotta wonder if he has a crush on you.”
The correct response was, “I hope so ’cause I’m head over heels for that guy and he’s a man and it’s confusing, but good and I don’t know what to do about it. Do I come out? Now, later, ever? If I can’t be with him, I don’t want another guy, so does it matter?”
Of course, I didn’t say any of that. I was too chickenshit. I fidgeted in my seat like a kid on a sugar high and huffed, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“Sorry.” Vinnie winced. “Fuck, that’s my bad. I made this weird, and I didn’t mean to. Forget I said anything. How ’bout those Dodgers?”
“I hate the fuckin’ Dodgers.”
“Me too.”
We both chuckled. It was awkward, but it was the best we could manage under the circumstances. Our brief, clumsy reprieve was followed by a strained silence. Vinnie countered it by turning up the volume on the radio and making small talk about the expected snowfall this season.
I should have been grateful for the segue, but my brain was pulsing against my skull now. My very real fear of a sudden migraine impacting whatever scan the doctors had in store for me today drove me to speak up.
“Hey, Vin…I like him. That’s all.” I opened my hands and slid them on my thighs. “I don’t know what else to say.”
Neither did Vinnie. His eyes creased thoughtfully at the corners behind his sunglasses. If I had to guess, I’d think he was trying to measure his words to avoid pissing me off. It was tempting to assure him that wasn’t necessary, but damn it, I wasn’t ready to tear any walls down and share…anything.
My body was healing, my brain was healing, but me? I was a mess of tangled contradictions. Superstitious yet enthralled by my sexual discovery, secretive yet eager to please, confused yet certain I was on the right path. Being with Jean-Claude was easy. Sharing what he meant to me and what that revealed about me…not so easy.
Vinnie cleared his throat after a minute or so. “JC’s a good guy. A hothead sometimes, but so am I.”
“True,” I snarked.
He shot an unabashed grin my way, then resumed squinting at the white minivan in front of us. “Hey, uh…is it too nosy to ask if you have feelings for him or something?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Oh.” Silence. “Well, do you?”
“Fuck, Vinnie.”
“Sorry. Shit. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry. It’s not my business. I know that, and I know I would have freaked the fuck out if anyone had asked me these questions. I’ve been out for a few years now and it’s so damn liberating that I forget what it was like when I was in the closet and—”
“Why’d you wait?”
“Huh?”
I twisted in my seat, worrying my bottom lip. “Nosy question, but since we’re on a roll. Why’d you wait till you retired to come out? Were you afraid there’d be backlash?”
“Not sure. In my mind they were very separate things, but the truth…yeah, I was scared.” He inhaled and sighed. “But if I had to do it over again, I wouldn’t wait. I think of the time I wasted that could have been spent with Nolan, and it makes me sad. Maybe that’s a dumb way to think, though. Maybe I was never going to be ready to commit until I’d worked through the noise in my head, ya know?”
I hummed in acknowledgment. “Makes sense.”
“Right. And moving on from uncomfortable topics…subject change number two.” Vinnie held up two fingers and continued, “I think I talked Nolan into buying a snowmobile. Remember when Grizzly invited everyone to his cabin in Montana for a team bonding weekend on the holiday break, then busted his arm when he fell off his snowmobile and missed the rest of the season?”
“Grizzly’s still a bonehead,” I smirked.
Vinnie hooted, merrily launching into ancient locker room antics. I joined in, glad to put probing discussions behind us.
But that conversation stuck with me for the rest of the day.
I thought about what it meant to deny feelings, not only for yourself but for someone else.
Let’s be real, wrestling with your sexuality was daunting at any age. My family wouldn’t care that I was bi, and the friends who mattered wouldn’t either—that included a few of my teammates. But I wasn’t naïve. Some of the guys would have a big problem with it. They might not care about the bi part until I mentioned I was seeing someone. Assuming Jean-Claude and I figured out a way to do this long-distance. We might fail, or he might not be interested anyway.
Was the truth worth the possible fallout if we couldn’t be together? When did self-preservation become selfishness? And should I have been concerned that my buddy had not-so-subtly hinted that he knew there was something going on with Jean-Claude and me?