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.
Four hundred fifty-one. He caught fire. "It was Chad."
The coach flinched and tried once again to hide it. "I'm in no place to disclose information about other students."
"Fuckin' knew it."
"Calm down."
"No, I won't. It wasn't his place to say shit about it. What did he tell you? What did he make me out to be? You know there's tons of men in sports coming out these days and they're doing just fine. They're being praised for it. But somehow I'm less? What is wrong with this system? What's wrong with you?"
The coach straightened. He was red, and Calum knew it was part anger but mostly embarrassment at being called out. "I won't take disrespect like that. Calum, I may have to—"
Calum laughed. "I won't take disrespect like this."
"Calum, you're off the team if you don't shape up."
Calum couldn't believe this. "Shape up? Am I supposed to mold myself into a different person? Change who I was born as?"
The coach sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. In truth, he didn't like to do this—Calum was a star. But the other guys had a problem. Look at what they'd done to Peter for trying to protect his friend, and he wasn't even the gay one. He felt so bad about what had happened, and he felt worse about what it was forcing him to say to Calum. But he couldn't lose his seniors, and he couldn't lose the team. He shook his head. "I don't know Calum. Figure something out. But I'm not having this ruin my team."
Calum could see that the coach was unhappy. And not with him—with the situation. Suddenly, all his anger turned to ash. He felt like crying. He didn't. "What am I supposed to do..." He ran his hands through his hair. "Can't you do something to them? Or...about them? Why me?"
"You know there's nothing I can do. They've been here four years. Some of them...I shouldn't say this, but some of them are here because they're paying to be here. Know what I mean?" Calum nodded. "I'm sorry. I'll figure something out, but I can't risk taking them off for the season. Meantime...you don't have to convince me, but you have to make it so they see you as you were before. Or as they thought you were before."
Calum choked. "That's not going to happen."
"I'll talk to them. Believe me, I will. But I say...impress them. You've already impressed me. But they need to think that without you, they have no shot."
Calum nodded again. He heaved out a breath. The coach was a good guy, but he was nailed down just as much as Calum was here. "Am I in on Thursday?"
The coach smiled a little. "Of course you're in. I may not start you though. I'll probably end up putting all seniors and some juniors in first. Try to get past this shitstorm."
"Okay."
The coach put a hand on his shoulder again. "I think it's best for everyone if you skip out today. They'll think you're out, I know you'll be fine without one day of practice, and you can go see Peter. He might be in the—" he looked at his watch, "well actually, he's probably home by now." He gestured with his chin.
Calum, polite as he was, refused to thank his coach. "Okay."
"Be here tomorrow."
"I will."
Calum knocked on the door of Peter's single dorm in Fletcher Hall. He waited a moment, hearing footsteps. Peter swung the door open. There was a butterfly bandage above his left eye where the skin had split when Chad had punched him. Around the socket vessels had burst under the skin and the bruise was dark.
"Hi, Cal—"
"Fuck me, look at your eye!" He put his hand up to Peter's face but didn't touch the wound. "Nah, fuck them. They did this to you and I'm the one at risk of getting kicked off?"
"Are you kidding me?" Peter said. "Coach really said that to you? Wow. I'm pissed."
They both went inside and sat at the little table in the dining area.
"Can't believe this. What happened?" Calum asked.
"Well, I finished class and I headed out to the field and I went in the locker room. Chad and the other seniors were already in there—said they got let out of their classes but I think that's bullshit. Anyway, I overheard them talking and they were saying how you were getting too good. They sounded scared for their spots, if I'm being honest. And they should be." He gave Calum a smile. Calum nodded for him to continue. "So Chad was like, 'If we tell Coach he's gay and say that we won't do shit until he's gone, I bet he'll kick him out'. What a piece of shit. I said that last part out loud."
"Oh God."
"I stepped dramatically around the corner and defended you and got right hooked for it. Bad aim, Chad's got. You're supposed to hit the jaw." He laughed humorlessly. "And Coach barely said a thing. Just pulled them off and was like, 'Get to practice'. And I went to the infirmary."
"Christ...Coach says he'll do something about it. Talk to them."
"I'm sure that will help," Peter said sarcastically.
"Yeah..."
"What about you? Are you off?"
"Not yet. He says I need to convince them somehow that they, like, need me."
"We do need you. You're getting so good it's insane. I'm so impressed."
Calum's mind flashed to Luke saying the same thing, and felt something go up his spine. But now wasn't the time.
"I just don't know what to do. Like, I can't just suddenly change."
"You shouldn't have to."
"I know. At least I'm in on Thursday."
"First string?"
Calum shook his head. "Doubt it."
"Well, whatever. Just watch: the seniors are gonna do shit in the first bit and then Coach'll be forced to put you in and you're going to turn everything around."
"Wouldn't that be the perfect movie."
"Wouldn't it just."
They didn't say anything for a bit. Then Calum asked, "Have you told Olivia yet?"
Peter thought of his girlfriend an hour away in Adelaide. "Liv doesn't need to know this happened. I'll be better in a week or two."
"And what if you get a scar from that?"
"I guess I'll explain it when I see her, then." Peter put his face in his hands. "I wish I could see her."
Calum watched his friend—hurt, helpless, and now lonely, too. His friend that had stuck up for him and taken a beating because of it. "Tell you what. How about I get out of your hair and you call Olivia. FaceTime her if you think she'll be all right, and tell her what happened. Maybe leave out that it's because of me this all happened. She'll hate me for it."
Peter shook his head. "No. Liv would never get upset about something like that, wouldn't hate you for something you couldn't have helped. She's too nice. And she likes you. Besides, I'll look like a hero." He half-smiled.
Calum returned it. "Okay. Whatever you want, dude. Anything I can get you?"
"I'm not paralyzed, Cal. I'll be okay."
Calum laughed. "Right. Sorry. I'll see you tomorrow? Or Thursday?"
Peter sighed. "Yeah. I'll probably be there tomorrow, even though I could skip if I wanted. But yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Great. Bye, Pete."
Calum caught the bus back to his dorm hall. He went up to his room, still roommate-free, and sat down on his bed. He took out his phone and called the only person who always made him happy.
"Hey, hon. How are you?"
"I'm good, Mali."
"You don't sound so good."
"Well...I—" He started to cry. His friend was hurt, he was losing his chance at football, and now he realized how much he missed his family.
"Calum? What's wrong? Tell me everything."
So he did. He told her how his grades were dropping and how Peter said he should talk to his teacher. He told her how he'd really taken to debate. He told her how much he was enjoying talking to his teacher and how much it had helped him. He told her how he was so sure that football was going to be okay since he was doing better in all his classes. He told her how Peter had been watching the others and how oblivious he had been to all of it and what had happened because of it.
"That's ridiculous. There's no way you should have known that was going on. It should never have been going on at all."
"No, but I didn't see it, Mali. And now Peter's hurt and I might get kicked off and there's nothing I can do but change myself. I have to if I want to stay in football."
His sister said nothing. He waited. Years seemed to go by before he said, "Mali?"
"You know why I'm not saying anything."
"Because...because you're going to say I'm wrong."
"So wrong. Never say that you should change yourself, Calum. Everyone loves you exactly how you are." He was about to protest and say that clearly not everyone did but Mali kept going. "You're beautiful, you're smart, and you're so incredibly talented at so many different things. Look how easily you picked up this new skill with just a little help from your teacher—Hemmings, was it?"
"Yes. Luke."
"I like that name—it's kind." Calum thought so, too. "But listen to me. Don't change. Don't ever change. You're going to be fine. You're so good at football it's not even funny. They do need you. They'll see it once you're not there."
Calum sniffed. "Hopefully."
"Definitely. Have you written anything new lately?"
Calum smiled. "A few things here and there."
"Sing me something."
"All right.
"Does it have to be this tragedy, this endless lost parade, a castle a façade of make believe? The truth is spelled out in your eyes, why don't you just reach out and make it clear to me?
"That's all I have of that so far."
"That was amazing. You should add 'what are you telling me' to the end."
Calum could hear it already. He sang the phrase. "That's perfect. I'll write it down."
"Good." They both paused. Calum could feel his sister on the other end of the line and he wished he could give her a hug. "I miss you," she said.
"I miss you too, Mali. And Mom and Dad and everybody."
"Come see us over break, okay? You're only a few hours out."
"Yeah like five."
"You know what I mean."
He smiled. "I love you."
"Love you too, Calum."
"I'll see you later."
"Soon."
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Any quotes, song titles/lyrics, and things of that type are not my work, and I take no credit for them (though I do thank those who made them for their incredible artistry).