Page 6 of Catching Kyle

I sigh, trying to hide the anxiety in my voice. “Hey, y’all. Gotta go meet with Timmy.”

The guys just tell me to have fun, but Ezekiel stops and looks at me.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” I say.

“You wanna win a Championship Game,” he says. “So just do what Timmy says. He’s always had your back.”

I pull on my beard, an anxious habit. “I just hope he has it this time.”

* **

Timmy and I sit in a dark, old-fashioned American restaurant. We’re sitting next to a fireplace, but it’s only just bright enough for me to see Timmy’s face. We regularly eat here because you can’t see anyone beyond your own table. Nice and anonymous. And a little romantic too, if I wasn’t with Timmy.

After we order and exchange our pleasantries, Timmy leans forward onto the table. He hasn’t been this serious since the Tigers were trying to walk back on one of my raises.

“What’s going on, Timmy?”

“I think you know.” He scratches his bald head and clears his throat. He’s wearing a button-up with a suitcoat and jeans, while I threw on some slacks and a nice henley.

“I know my interview didn’t go well,” I say. “But I didn’t think Ricardo would be there.”

The waiter brings out drinks to the table: a whiskey neat for Timmy and an old fashioned for me. Timmy picks up the glass and drinks nearly half of it.

“This is bigger than the interviews,” he says. He gulps the rest of the glass and sets it on the side of the table for our waiter to refill.

“Bigger?”

He clears his throat and moves his napkin from his lap to the table. “The Tigers don’t want to re-sign you.”

It’s that goddamned heartburn again. “Don’t play with me, Timmy.”

“I’m serious,” he says, looking around for the waiter. He wants more drink bad. “After your interview, Tigers players got more questions about what you do in the bedroom than they did about your gameplay.”

“Yeah,” I say, shrugging. “I did, too.”

He shakes his head. “Do you know how serious this is? Your love life became more important than us making the Championship Game. Management thinks you’re a distraction, Kyle. A dangerous one.”

I shift in my seat, sweat forming on my forehead. “It’s really that bad?”

The wait returns with another glass, and Timmy gulps it in one go.

“Bad?” Timmy says as he wipes his lips. “It’s worse than bad. If this keeps up, the Tigers will turn into a joke. We’ll be seen as the ‘gay’ team. Our players willmove to other teams. Fans will take us less seriously. We’ll lose our momentum. And then the Championship Game will be a distant memory.”

A burn flares in my chest. I didn’t just lose us the Championship Game when I got tackled. With my interview, I may have compromised the whole team.

“So what do I need to do?” I ask, leaning forward. I’m tempted to down my drink just like Timmy, but I want a clear head. And even though I sponsor all these beer brands, drinking isn’t really my thing.

Timmy laughs down at the table. “Management says the only way they’ll re-sign you is if can prove to them you’re not gay,” he says.

I flinch at that word. “What? Being the best linebacker out there isn’t good enough?”

Timmy narrows his eyes at me. “What’s the problem here, Weaver? Are you actually gay?”

I fold my arms. “I’m definitely not.”

Timmy plays with his empty glass. “Then I don’t see the issue. Why can’t you get a girlfriend?”

“I just—” I sigh. I’ve tried dating women, but my mind goes all dark when I know they’re expecting things to get intimate. Like an eclipse in my brain. So, I just avoid dating altogether. But Timmy can’t know that. He might actually think I’m gay.