Page 76 of Attractive Forces

“Rugby game. It’s the quarterfinals of the regional championship tonight.”

“What’s with your sudden obsession with rugby?” Mum asks, quirking an eyebrow from the kitchen. She’s leaning on the counter, cradling a cup of coffee. “Is it because your friend is on the team?”

“Just showing some school spirit,” I mumble.

Shit. I hate having to lie to her. I mean, I’ve never thought through exactly how much info I’d provide to my mother when I was in a relationship, but I never expected I’d keep her completely in the dark.

But I’ve got other things to worry about right now.

Because myfriendLogan cut off our messaging quickly last night, which isn’t like him. And the team wasn’t in class today as they were doing some top-secret psyching up or whatever it is that rugby players need to do to prep themselves for a knockout game. So, I haven’t had a chance to see him, to reassure myself that the distance I felt from him last night is in my imagination.

“Do you know if things between Logan and Annaliese are continuing?” Mum asks with a smirk.

My stomach feels like it’s plunged into an abyss.

It’s one thing to omit the truth, but it’s another thing to blatantly lie.

A memory shoots back into my brain of my mother, her hair wild around her face, screaming at my father.“So many lies! How could you have told so many lies?”

My own experience with lying makes me want to double down on what my mother yelled at him. How could he have constantly lied to the people he loved?

Because right now, my lie is like acid inside me, corroding everything.

“I’m not sure,” I say finally.

And then I exit the room to avoid any more questions.

But my own question thumps through my head as I leave the house, a question without any easy answer.

How long can I continue to lie?

* * *

I’min a weird mood as I watch the game with Chloe.

She’s frantically taking notes for an article, so I get to watch Logan with no interruptions. Which is a shame because I’d quite like some interruptions to distract me from my brain right now.

The first time I watched Logan play was when I was falling for him and didn’t realize it. I’d watched him on the field and lusted after him without even realizing what I was doing.

And lust is definitely still there because I doubt anyone attracted to guys could look at Logan in his rugby jersey and tight shorts and not feel some sort of attraction.

But this time, my lust has been joined by spikes of anxiety.

It’s not just caused by the distance I felt from him last night. It’s my slowly developing realization about how hard everything will be going forward. Constantly lying. Constantly hiding.

Logan throws the perfect dummy pass that fools his defenders, then darts around and sprints the remaining twenty meters to the try line, leaving all the opposition players eating his dust. I stare at Logan, that golden head now surrounded by his teammates slapping his back and hugging him. Would they still act like that if they knew he was gay?

But what’s the alternative? He quits rugby?

As the game progresses, it’s apparent that the idea of Logan quitting rugby is up there with the idea of a young LeBron James quitting basketball. He’s so talented.

And doesn’t he deserve to be able to use that talent to achieve on the field without people talking about his sexuality? If he comes out, he’ll forever be known as the gay rugby player. His sexuality will eclipse everything he does on the field.

Which is so not fair.

Logan continues to dominate the game. He’s everywhere, passing, kicking, tackling.

His play is a big reason why Heath Valley wins comfortably, twenty-seven to fourteen.