Page 133 of Catching Kyle

“Is everything set?” I ask.

Sloane nods. “I’ve been given full creative control of the half-time show. Those were the only terms I would accept. So, even if you were to run on stage and sing himself, the NFO couldn’t do anything as long as I approve. And I definitely approve of two fellow gays getting together.”

I laugh. “Thank you so much,” I say. “I don’t plan on singing though.” I pause, my mind beginning to race. “Unless that would persuade Michael…”

“Hey man,” Ezekiel says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “The plan’s perfect. Let’s not change it now.”

I pat his hand. “You’re right.”

“Security will come get you from the locker rooms when it’s time,” Ezekiel says, putting his hands on his hips. “And then Sloane will give you the signal when it’s time to come out.”

I nod, recalling the plan in my head. “And they got Michael?”

Ezekiel shrugs. “That was Jessica’s part. We’ve been on the field this whole time, so I don’t know.”

My stomach flutters, and I start chewing on my lips. If she flaked, or if they didn’t get him, then…

“Hey, easy,” Ezekiel says. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“I gotta go,” Sloane says as a manager pulls him away. “I’m sticking to the plan!”

“Come on,” Ezekiel says. “Before coach starts asking where we are.”

The locker room is chaos. Players are scarfing down bananas and chugging water. The majority of us opt in for a fresh change of warm, dry underclothing. It’s chilly out there, especially with the snow. The offensive coach pulls offense aside, while the head coach talks to us defense. I’m trying to focus, but it’s hard to be in two places at once. Because pretty soon, rather than being in here, I’m gonna be out on the field enacting the final step of the plan.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the security guard just outside the locker room gesturing for me to follow. It’s time.

All of my fresh gear on, I slip out the locker room. Coach doesn’t notice because he’s mostly talking to our linemen.

The security guard ushers me into the main hallway, and I can hear Sloane Michaels talking into his mic from here.

“Before I perform,” Sloane says. “I have something special to present to you tonight.”

The guard walks me out onto the field, and confused cheers echo around me.

“Kyle Weaver,” he says from the quickly built stage in the middle of the field. “I believe you have something to tell us.”

My heart threatening to break through my shoulder pads, I ascend the stage and take the mic from him.

“Thank you,” I say. “And I do.”

Chapter 47

Michael Cunningham

“KyleWeaver,Ibelieveyou have something to tell us.”

My head whips up and I rush to the edge of the concrete opening to peer over the side. My jaw drops as I watch Kyle, in all his football gear, rush up to the stage.

The security guards took me through the labyrinth that is the Portland stadium and have kept me just inside an opening onto the field.

“Kyle’s told us to keep you here,” the taller security guard says, walking up to my side. “But from here, the choice is yours. You can go to the stage when Kyle calls you up. Or you can choose to leave now. It’s up to you.”

My breath quickens as I consider what he’s saying, but then Kyle starts speaking. I have no time to think. Just listen.

“You know, I’ve never been very good at this,” Kyle says. “But what I’m about to say is completely true and straight from my heart.”

I’m worried some NFO official is going to drag him off the stage, but Sloane is just standing by, letting this happen. This was planned. Coordinated. And I think by Kyle. And judging by the way the crowd is cheering, even if some management wanted to take Kyle off stage, it would be a bad idea.