Page 77 of Catch Me (Becoming Us #4)

Roman

Roman: You watching the game?

Dad: I wouldn’t miss it. Think it’ll be the year our team takes the win?

Roman: I know it

Dad: We’re behind now

Roman: They’ll pull through

Dad: Hope you’re right

Travis wasn’t pitching, but I knew they’d pull him in. He was usually a starter, but after he saved that game in Boston at the end, I figured he was their trump card here. It was the right move with Carter starting. He had a solid arm, right behind Travis.

I sent my dad a picture of my view from the suite, then put my phone away. We were in the bottom of the fifth inning, so Atlanta was batting, and I decided to work on my drawings from the previous games.

We were only behind by two points, so I was still feeling confident.

I hoped Travis was too. He’d been significantly better by the time we left the house, but a lot could happen in five innings, especially since he was stuck in the dugout watching someone else on tha t mound.

I wished I could be down there with him when he wasn’t on the field.

Til dropped into the seat beside me and stared at the tablet. I turned it away from him and continued.

“You let Travis watch.”

“You’re not Travis,” I pointed out.

“Art is meant to be shared. Linc agrees.”

Linc came up behind me and leaned his forearms on the back of my seat. Since I was being attacked from all angles, I turned off the screen.

“Art is meant to be created, then guided by the artist,” Linc said. “I like spreading the feeling that comes from my music, but the only person who hears me compose and practice is West.”

I smirked at Til. “That means I have permission to tell you to fuck off.”

“You’re getting fed to the mutants when the apocalypse rolls around,” he replied coolly.

“No sacrifice this time?”

“Your soul isn’t desirable to the demons. It’s too corrupt already.”

“Guess there are plus sides to everything.”

“You’re grumpy.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Are you and Travis fighting already?”

I shot him a withering look, then focused on the game since I couldn’t draw in peace. Peace didn’t even exist anymore. Not until the game was over and I could see him after his win.

My phone buzzed, and I thought about ignoring it, but I’d been the one to text him.

I hadn’t talked to my dad much over the past year, which had been both good and bad.

There was a certain relief to it and it helped me work through my sexuality.

If I’d been in constant contact with him, I would’ve gone back on coming out.

There was this lingering fear that if I opened up communication, I’d still do that.

But I was out, except for with him. No going back.

And no going forward because the only thing left to do was stop hiding.

That included my relationship with Travis.

If he wanted that to be public information.

He was a known figure, and when the Braves won, he’d be in the spotlight even more.

Maybe he’d prefer to keep it quiet for now.

Fuck, we needed to have a lot of conversations.

Travis’ dad had come around eventually. Yeah, he sent him to conversion and their relationship was pretty shit throughout high school, but they were good now. I could see how much his dad loved him. Maybe mine would come around too.

What if he didn’t? I’d thought about that extensively.

There wasn’t much I could do about it, and it was his decision.

I still had my mom, my stepfamily, and all of my friends.

And Travis. Those were the most important, and I knew that all of my relationships would be better if I let go of this fear.

The guys didn’t even post pictures that had me in them because they were all gay and it would rouse suspicion.

The only person who could understand was Sen, and we’d already talked a lot about it.

In a way, I saw his situation as easier.

Not easier , but it was different. He had reasons not to like his family, and even though I knew he still loved them, he’d found a way to take ownership of the situation and know that he was better off without them.

While my dad was a dick, I didn’t have an explicit reason to hate him.

I wished I had a dad that could see me the way Ross did.

He tried when it mattered, and he didn’t even have an obligation to me.

Mine taught me how to bleed and called it love.

And still, I reached for him, bloody-knuckled and hollowed out.

That fucked up desire to have a relationship with him would eat at me, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Putting it out of my head, I pulled out my phone. He’d sent a picture of his living room setup, including the TV with the game on. I blinked a few times, then zoomed in on the wall. Was that...

Roman: You got one of the Braves canvases

Dad: Kathy bought it for my birthday last month. Like it?

I stared at the message, cycling between confusion and anger. It was a joke, right? That question had to be a joke.

Roman: You like the art?

Dad: It’s great. A unique ide a

Roman: Do you know who the artist is?

Dad: How would I know?

A clipped laugh escaped me, drawing Til’s attention. Curling my fingers in, I leaned them against my mouth. When it felt like I’d explode, I got to my feet and headed to the bar to make a drink. I dropped the phone on the counter and poured myself a whisky, even though I wasn’t a fan of it.

After knocking it back, I leaned my elbows on the counter and stared at the text. I shook my head and drew in a breath.

Roman: I thought art was pointless to you

Dad: Am I not allowed to have art in my house now? I told you it’ll be an upward battle to get noticed. If you want to make art, you need an actual job too

Roman: Like tattooing? I make pretty good money, you know

Dad: Ok

Roman: The artist’s signature is in the bottom left corner

Dad: If it’s that important, I’ll look later

Roman: Look now

I wanted to drink more, but I wouldn’t do that now. When the Braves won, I wasn’t going to be a mess. The team would probably go out, and maybe Travis would want me to go. Or maybe not.

When it had been five minutes without a response, I pocketed the phone. I wasn’t going to spend more mental energy on him today. Maybe I’d send him a fucking calendar for Christmas and see if he figured it out. Would he still claim that I’d be better off as a tattoo artist? I wouldn’t doubt it.

Now I was curious about something.

Roman: McKinney still your favorite player this season?

Dad: Yeah, he’s brought the team here

Roman: Did you know he’s gay?

My foot tapped as I waited for him to respond. Maybe he was a better person than I thought. Something like that wouldn’t make him change his opinion. Travis was an amazing pitcher, and my dad knew that .

Dad: Are you kidding?

Roman: Nope. He speaks out for LGBTQ people

Dad: The team allows that? Just advertising what they do in bed. They have to take over everything

Fuck.

I returned to the window and stared down at the game. Sitting would be a mistake right now, and I’d probably start panicking.

No, I was already panicking.

If anyone saw us together . . . If there were pictures . . . The press . . . Interviews . . . Him visiting me in Seattle . . .

Someone said my name, but I ignored them as I left the suite. We’d been doing this for a few days and I was already freaking out.

I just needed a minute. I needed a fucking minute.

*****

“Where the hell did you go?” Kai asked when I got back to the suite.

“Uh, I walked around, then I threw up, then I ate a lot of fatty food.”

“Why?”

“It’s not important.”

“Nah, talk to me.”

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me over to the wall. The way he crossed his arms told me he wouldn’t let me get out of this unless I resorted to physical violence.

“I was talking to my dad.”

His nose wrinkled. “Today of all days?”

“Yeah, well, I’m an idiot. You know that already.”

“Mm. Why’d that lead you to have a meltdown.”

“I didn’t have a meltdown. I just needed a minute. Is that allowed?”

“Alone? No.”

I rolled my eyes, then leaned against the wall.

“The first problem is that he owns a canvas of the entire team and he has no idea who the artist is.” He pointed at me with a questioning look, and I nodded.

“It pissed me off, and since Travis is his favorite player, I told him that he’s gay. And he was an ass about it.”

“So, you went into a spiral involving your fear of disappointing your parents. ”

“Sure, I guess.”

“First of all, what he has on his wall should make him proud, except he’s an absolute dumbass.

I know you told him that you were doing art for the Braves, so he obviously didn’t listen.

And if being gay and in a happy relationship is a disappointment to him, then you should stop caring about him being proud of you. ”

“I know . It’s still there, though.”

“Sen’s the same way. It’s better now, but he still has those moments. Honestly, man, he’ll find out one way or another. If you wait five years, is his opinion about gay people gonna change? Will it hurt less then? I’ll answer that. No.”

“Top of the ninth,” Linc announced.

Kai patted my cheek hard, then rejoined the group. He plopped onto Sen’s lap sideways and grinned at him.

I stood at the edge of the window and watched Travis walk onto the pitcher’s mound.

He looked up at the suite, and even though he couldn’t see me, I smiled.

Atlanta was one ahead, so as long as they didn’t let the Red Sox get a single run, the game would be over without the Braves having to bat at all.

I could tell he was tense, but once he got ready to pitch, he became laser-focused.

“You’ve got this,” I whispered.

The batter hit the third pitch and made it to first, which was fine. It could’ve been worse.

When the bases were loaded, I started to get anxious. If this guy got a good hit in, they could get more than one past home. Then, Atlanta would have to fight for those runs in the bottom of the inning.

“Come on, Travis.”

The bat hit the ball, and I put a hand over my mouth.

“Foul ball!” Kai shouted. “Sucker.”

Aside from the entire month of December and January, I’d never been this anxious. I put my hands in my pockets, then pulled them out again. My foot was tapping, and I didn’t have high hopes for the state of my jaw by the end of this.

Two strikes. Two outs. This was the pitch. It was going to be either the best or worst memory.

I dropped into a crouch and stared at him, committing everything to memory.

Instead of winding up for the pitch, he looked up at the suite.

He pulled off his glove and dropped it on the ground , then he held up his hands.

I laughed when he put his fingers together to make a heart.

The cameras panned to us, and the guys waved with big smiles on their faces.

Everybody was probably wondering who Travis intended the gesture for.

The image on the screen showed a heart exploding into tinier hearts, then returned to the game. He had his glove on again and was focused on home.

I held onto the back of my neck with both hands while I watched. Time hadn’t slowed, but it felt like it did. As soon as the ball left his hand, I sucked in a breath.

“No,” I breathed.

He hit it.

I stood when the batter headed for first, but I had my eye on the one racing toward home. Travis swiped the ball when it bounced off the ground, then threw it. Vince caught it, tagging the plate in the nick of time.

I took a step back as I tried to get my bearings.

When Travis crouched and covered his head with his arms, I snapped back to reality.

I took off out the door at a run and looked at the signs to navigate into the stands.

It was insanely loud and chaotic out here, which made it difficult to get through, but eventually, I made it to the front.

I held onto the railing, wishing I could jump onto the field, but I’d probably get arrested or something.

There was already a woman with a microphone talking to Travis. He seemed distracted, and when he looked up at the suite, I cupped my hands around my mouth.

“Travis!”

Fuck, he couldn’t hear me. People needed to shut the fuck up.

I stepped onto the first wrung of the railing and watched him since there was nothing else I could do. The joy on his face immediately made me forget all the things I’d been worried about before. All that mattered was the man on the field right now and what I knew he deserved.