Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“That’s my man,” I joked just as Darren said, “You fucking know it.”
The commentator continued, “As for his announcement, I’m happy for him. He should live his life. The sports world needs to step up. All the hoopla right now goes to show that even after Hawkins came out, we still have a lot of work to do.”
They got off the subject of Darren and his sexuality after that. He cleared his throat from beside me, sitting on the edge of the couch as he did when he watched.
It wasn’t long before the game started, and as much as I loved football, I couldn’t help watching him for most of it. But it was a close, pretty fucking brutal game, and near the end of the fourth, my heart was racing, my attention dragged away from Darren and on the TV.
The Lightning were down, the clock ticking by as they tried to make their way toward the end zone. Anson managed to get a block, and Conners launched the ball. Reed caught it for a touchdown. Both Darren and I jumped off the couch and cheered.
He laughed then and pulled me into his arms. “Fuck yes!” It was hard because while he wanted his team to win, the better Conners was, the worse it was for Darren personally.
He kissed me, then closed his eyes, forehead against mine. “Sorry I’ve been kind of a dick this afternoon. It was all getting to me suddenly for some reason.”
“It’s okay. We’re both going to have those days, even when all the drama is over. It’ll never be perfect. We’ll fight, and you’ll bug me, and I’ll be perfect all the time.”
He laughed. “You will, huh?”
“Obviously.”
He smiled, kissed me again, then sat back down, tugging me with him. He grabbed the remote and turned the television off. When he lay down, I went too, settling between his legs. Darren used his left hand to play with my hair.
“That kid? He saw the photo of us I posted on social media, and he started coming down to the center every day, trying to catch me, but I wasn’t there. When someone else tried to talk to him, he’d leave. He goes to one of the local high schools. He’s a wide receiver. He’s just a sophomore, but he already has colleges looking at him. He’s gay, and he’s in the closet, and—fuck.” Darren wiped a stray, lonely tear. “His parents died, and he lives with a foster family—real religious, who definitely wouldn’t be okay with it. They don’t get along at all. No one knows but me. He doesn’t have anyone to talk to. This kid can’t go to the adults in his life with this. He doesn’t have anyone but me, a fucking stranger. He said he plans to lie, hoping he can make it work with a girl he’s dating, and fuck, I was so honored he talked to me, while feeling like shit that this is his life, that it has to fucking be this way, and for what? I just don’t understand why it matters who someone loves.”
He sucked in a deep breath and trembled, while I struggled to get air into my lungs.
“Then at the same time, I didn’t feel worthy, ya know? I didn’t have to go through all that shit. I didn’t have to spend my life trying to hide who I was like he does or Anson did. I get upset when people take photos of us or avoid social media because I don’t want to hear shit people say. I’m worried about playing next year. And then I see that kid—Kordell—and those are real worries. I feel like a fucking fraud because I just fell in love with you one day and I didn’t have to walk that walk, ya know? And if I don’t play, it’ll suck, but I had a good career. I’m financially stable. I’ve got a family who loves me, friends who love me, and this great fucking guy. What do I have to be so damn bitter about?”
“Hey, no.” I shook my head. “It’s not a competition. It doesn’t matter who’s had it worse. Just because your story is different doesn’t mean your struggles aren’t very real to you. They’re personal and valid. You don’t have to hit a certain level to be able to feel things. You can have a bad day and wish things were different while knowing that in other ways, you might have it better than someone like Kordell. And you’ve had struggles in your life—as a human, as a son, as a Black man—that I’ve never had, or Anson never had, or maybe that kid hasn’t had. That’s the thing about being human, Dare. All our stories are different, all our experiences unique to us. One person’s hardships don’t invalidate another’s.”