Page 19

Amos

Iwas called into the coach’s office after practice, and when I sat down, I knew something was up. “We need to talk, Amos,”

he said, his face flushed and serious. “You need to know you’re being scouted by the NFL.”

I smiled. “Really? I mean, I was hoping, but really?”

The old man didn’t smile. “Yeah, but what you did, getting yourself into the school paper about—”

I knew instantly what he was talking about, and I was getting pissed. I also knew it wouldn’t do to let my frustration out in front of my coach. He wasn’t a liberal man, and I still wanted to play.

“I know things are changing, Amos,”

he said, “but not in football. Here’s how I’ve played it off. You are a drama major, and this was part of an assignment…”

I stood to interrupt him when he put his hand up. “I knew you were gay when I recruited you to play here, and you haven’t pushed that boundary much, which is good because your teammates would blast you out if they knew. I want you to make it in the NFL, but you can’t be out and do it. Son, you just can’t.”

My dad had that very conversation with me two years ago, so I couldn’t say I didn’t know it was coming. That didn’t mean I wasn’t pissed as hell. I decided it was best not to respond, so I turned to go instead.

“I’ve talked to the scouts already. They said if that’s how it went down, they’ll make sure it doesn’t interfere with your prospects, but don’t do any more drag shows, son, and no more gay bars or anything that would out you in the future or I can promise you, you’ll never be recruited.”

I walked out without responding. Anger coursed through me as I left. I didn’t shower like I usually would. Instead, I grabbed my bag and walked back to my room. I’d left my car there, knowing the cold, wet day was what I needed to calm down.

Luckily, most of the anger had receded when I got to the frat house, and waving off the initiates who sat in the living room, I darted up to my room, hoping to God to find Tommy or Owen.

When neither were there, I stripped and got into the shower. I came out and fell into bed before I found my phone and decided to call my brother, Josiah.

“Well, if it isn’t the all-star himself,”

he answered, always the smartass.

“Yeah, some fucking all-star,” I said.

“What’s up? You sound mad.”

“I was just told I either closet up or give up my chances for the NFL.”

Josiah was quiet for a long time. “It sucks, but I think that’s probably accurate.”

“Fuck accurate. You mean in this day and age, an athlete can’t be himself?”

“Yeah, it sucks, brother, but even in my line of work, I won’t be able to be out if I want to work with football players.”

“So you’ve decided to go for the law degree after all?” I asked.

“Yeah, I want to be an agent eventually, and the law degree will help with contracts and negotiations. At least that’s what my advisor tells me.”

“I hate the law,”

I said, and Josiah laughed.

“You hate academia in general; that’s why you’re the jock, and I’m the brains.”

“Shut up, idiot. I’ve got brains too.”

Josiah laughed. “You have muscles, and you have skill, and you have a lot of positive assets, but you suck at studying worse than anyone I’ve ever met. You certainly have brains, but you choose not to use them.”

“Don’t be stereotyping me, Josiah. I don’t have to fit into anyone’s peg holes.”

Josiah grew serious then. “I wish that was true, and maybe after you make it big, you can change things, but for now—”

He let the statement sit there. I knew he was right. We both did.

“Josiah?” I asked.

“Yeah,”

he replied.

“Should I just forget all this? I don’t want to be in the closet. I want to feel free.”

“What brought all this on? You told us the other day at Mom and Dad’s that you hadn’t decided what your sexuality was.”

“Coach found out about the drag show. He said the scouts knew about it, too, and he had to cover for me.”

“I don’t think I can answer this for you, brother. I think you gotta do what’s right for you.”

We sat in silence again before he asked, “Do you want to play football professionally?”

“Maybe,”

I said. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

He chuckled.

“You are the most indecisive person I’ve ever met, Amos.

You have to decide what you want.

Then, if it’s football, you have to figure out if it means enough to put that part of your life aside.

Provided you decide you are bi or gay. If you decide you prefer women, then this is all a moot point anyway.”

“What would you do?” I asked.

He chuckled again.

“I don’t think hiding in the closet is an option for me.

I’m pretty much what I am.

You, on the other hand, have options.

But let me say this: it only works as long as you don’t lie about your sexuality.

No matter how much you love the sport, if you try to be something you aren’t, it’ll eventually destroy you.

So, unless you decide you prefer women, you’ll need to keep your cards close to your chest.

Keep that in mind as you are thinking about your choices.”

I hung up, knowing he was right.

I wasn’t going to become a professional drag queen.

I’d have to change a lot of things, including my eating habits, if I wanted to fit into an evening gown.

I also needed to practice a hell of a lot more.

Part of me loved that idea—the practice part, not the food part.

But I did love football.

I loved the camaraderie with my teammates.

I loved the hard workouts.

I didn’t always love the drills and the repetition day after boring ass day, but I loved to play.

I loved to win.

Was it worth throwing away who I am? No… no, it wasn’t worth that.

If I were ready to accept my sexuality, or if someone had touched my heart, I’d give it up because Josiah was right— being myself was more important than the game, the money, or even the fame.

For now, though, I needed to focus on the game.

If I had a chance with the NFL, I should go for it.

If I got the offer, then I could decide, but if I didn’t put my nose to the grindstone, there’d be no offer, and the choice wouldn’t be mine to make.

I got to bed before Owen and Tommy showed up.

I heard them come in but ignored them, preferring to go back to sleep.

The next morning, I called my advisor and asked to meet.

When I sat across from her, she asked what she could do to help.

“Um, well, I talked to coach and he said he thought I might get scouted for the NFL… I need to know how to finish my studies early.”

“That’s smart thinking,”

she said as she opened my school record and went through the courses I’d finished.

“So, you’ll need to make sure to get your core classes done during the semester, when those are offered, and your electives can be done during the summer.

I’m sorry, but the only way I can see this happening, is for you to take a full twelve credit hours during the summer terms.”

I didn’t like it—hell, summers were when I liked hanging out doing as little as possible— but I didn’t want to end up being like those guys who got almost done with their degrees then were whisked off by the NFL and never finished their degrees.

Unfortunately, Josiah had been right.

I didn’t apply my brain, and that needed to change, so I sat Owen and Tommy down and asked them to help me get serious so I could pull off the heavier class loads and be prepared in case I got pulled into the NFL before school was officially over.

Doing twelve hours during summer school was intense, but Owen and Tommy helped to get me through it.

That brought us closer in the end, which was what I needed.

I never did well alone, and when I tried to study by myself, I always got distracted.

Not that Tommy wasn’t becoming more distracting.

I began to notice things about him that I hadn’t paid attention to before, like how his face lit up when he smiled, or how his eyes crinkled around the edges when he was concentrating.

By the time we were halfway through the summer, I knew I was mostly attracted to men or that I was attracted to my roommate and best friend, Tommy.

I’d promised him I wouldn’t come onto him again, and I was determined to keep that promise.

I’d begun to consider myself pansexual because I figured I had feelings for the person I was with.

I’d convinced myself I’d have feelings for Owen if I’d been his roommate.

It made sense.

Unfortunately, when Owen, Tommy, and I went back to San Antonio Pridefest, I let my angst screw me up, and destroyed something that meant more to me than anything.