Page 46 of Cleats and Pumps

Tommy

Iwas shocked when my old boss called and said they would be interested in the Amos article. I tried not to sound too happy about how much I was costing them, in comparison to what I cost as a regular employee.

Oh well, karma was karma. “I’ll be writing the second article after the school year starts and the team has been able to play a game or two. I was also planning to go back if they get to state.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s good…”

he replied. I cocked my eyebrow. I mean, the guy never just agreed to anything I wanted to do. He was one of those editors who wanted to control the story from start to finish.

I guessed maybe this was him eating crow though. Still, he usually wasn’t nice to freelance writers either. “Boss, you feeling okay?" I asked, mostly ’cause I couldn’t help it.

“Fine. Why, what do you mean?’

“You are never this easygoing. Did Finley finally go through with slipping poison in your coffee?”

Old man Finley used to threaten to poison the boss all the time, and he never gave a damn if he heard him or not.

“No, no… you just have a good start. Now, I’ve got to go. Send me the final draft of your article.”

He hung up before I could reply.

Okay, this was suspicious.

Something felt off, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

I mean, I had plenty to hide.

Amos and I had hooked up again, but no one except Owen knew we’d ever hooked up before, and I’d been extra careful to shut the blinds the night we’d hooked up in New Mexico.

So, no, it wasn’t likely anyone could prove we had been anything but friends and former roommates.

Oh well, I was making a mint on this article, or articles, so I couldn’t complain, and I didn’t have anyone breathing down my throat either.

That was a major plus.

I made a couple more edits to the article and sent it off to them.

Mostly, this was a fluff piece.

But it did explain what had happened to Amos this summer.

There would be a lot of questions now, like why he wasn’t practicing with his team.

But, that wasn’t for me to report on.

Maybe that was why the boss had been so strange.

Maybe they were going to expose the benching.

I was sure someone must have disclosed this by now.

My article would be a great way to augment the drama.

I could almost write the headline: Amos Clark Benched For Doing Drag, Other Players Let Off Scot-free.

Then the next article: Amos Clark Volunteers To Coach High School Team in the Desert As His Team Gives Him Cold Shoulder.

The team, if the article was written correctly, would look like the jackasses they are.

Amos would have to navigate the landmines himself, but I’d run into Erissa Smith, his manager, before, and the woman knew her way around a scandal.

I’m sure she’d do well for him.

Regardless, I couldn’t be responsible for where this went.

I slumped back on the sofa and thought about Amos.

I hated how I ended it with him.

I hated that I didn’t give it one more night.

I missed him and hated myself for that.

Now that we’d reconnected and had gone there again, well… now I wanted him all over again. Fuck me…

Regardless, I was determined not to stand in his way.

It just wasn’t right, and he would resent me eventually if I did.

Oh well, I’d be seeing him in a few weeks anyway.

We’d rehash all that later.

Or maybe he’d just tell me he was done.

Either way, resolution would happen.