Strike (Cake) [Completed] (#Wattys2017)

5: 451

Calum found his coach in the foyer leading into the locker rooms. He could hear some of the other guys in there. Probably the seniors. Calum caught his breath and, not sure how to start, went to his coach.

              "Hey, Coach. Something you wanted to talk about?"

              The coach looked over at him. "Calum...that was quick." He made a face and tried to cover it up. "I mean...I wasn't expecting you this early. Don't you have class?"

              So there was definitely something going on. What was he missing? "My teacher let us out early."

              "That's..."

              Chad and 12 came out of the locker room. Calum could see that Chad had two knuckles bandaged on his right hand. What...?

              The coach put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's talk outside."

              They went out to the practice field, standing at the faint 30-yard line for the football team.

              The coach crossed his arms and didn't face Calum directly. He looked off at the bleachers on the other side of the field.

              Calum was waiting for him to say that his improving grades still weren't enough. That he wasn't allowed to play in spring. Or that something terrible had happened to Peter and he'd have to cover his position the rest of the season because Peter would be out. But none of that was said.

              "Some of the guys on the team seem to think..." The coach paused, thinking. He finally faced Calum. "Listen, Calum. There's a reputation that this team needs to uphold for the university and the district, and someone like you might not be right for that."

              Calum was confused. "Someone like me?" The coach looked down at the grass. And suddenly Calum understood. What Chad had meant when he said people might 'disagree with his taste.' Why Peter had been asking about what Chad had said to him. Why Peter seemed out of it when he was watching the older guys, and just why he had been watching them so closely. Watching them watch Calum himself. Now he understood.

              He did his best to stay calm, but the match was lit. "You mean because I'm gay."

              The coach flushed, but he held his ground. "You know it's atypical in professional sports."

              What was that even supposed to mean? He started to singe: two hundred degrees. "First of all, we're not pros. And what's wrong with atypical? Am I a different person, a different player, if I like guys?"

              The coach sighed. "It'll cause issues with the team dynamic now that the boys know."

              "Team dy...are you serious?" Three hundred...

              "Calum, this isn't your place to be arguing."

              Four hundred. "The fuck it is!" He threw his arms out.

              "Excuse me. You're not helping your case."

              No, he wasn't. He sighed; one hundred. "Sir, this isn't fair. I'm no different than I was last week before anyone said anything."

              "I know, Hood..."

              Something came to him. "Oh my God..." He'd seen him reject that girl last week. He'd told him he needed to rethink. And then, when Calum had reached his level, he'd gone to the coach out of jealousy and...oh what a dick.