Page 69 of For the Fans

“Everything okay?” Guty asks, and my eyes snap open.

Folding up the letter, I stuff it into my back pocket, turning to face him with a smile that hides all my stress and uncertainty. It’s a good one.I’ve had years of practice.“Yup. Just confirming a few things from my grants. You get any of that muscle recovery stuff you were telling me about?” I change the subject quick.

His eyes narrow, as if he might suspect I’m hiding something. But thankfully, he doesn’t dwell on it. Just pulls a bunch of bananas out of the bag and grins. “You know it, Nueve. I’m gonna whip us up some shakes now. Get these guns poppin’! It’s game day, baby!”

He starts shimmying around the room, tossing stuff into his blender while I chuckle and shake my head. But it doesn’t take long for the smile to fade and the suffocation of reality to suck oxygen out of my lungs.

Those texts… I know I should probably read them. Strictly as they pertain to my current predicament. Avoidance only works if you have the luxury of pushing away reality. And I don’t.

I need more money. Like now.

The Venmo deposits I’ve gotten from Avi are working as a pretty decent silver lining to the crippling confusion and insecurity I’ve been ignoring since the night in his dorm. It’s been a week since it happened, and I’m using every single measure of denial and distraction I possess not to think about what we did, hence why I haven’t read any of his texts.

I don’t need to know what he’s saying… And I’d really prefer not to deal with him if I don’t have to. But the fact is, that despite how awful the experience was, it didexactlywhat it was meant to…

I now have enough money for at least half of my housing bill for next semester, which is sort of unbelievable. Sure, recalling the haze of that night has bile crawling up my throat any time the memories get too strong for evenmeand my epic avoiding skills to subdue. But that’s just because of what happened. It was so out of the realm of what I’ve ever done before… It threw me for an obvious loop.

I’m not interested in hooking up with guys. I don’t want them touching my dick, or pressing their bodies against mine… Whispering things over my lips while they drag me into ridiculous, unwelcome spine-tingling orgasms.

That’s not me. I’m notgay, no matter how much people online want me to act like I am.

And where my idiot stepbrother is concerned, well… I guess he was right, in a sense. Doing what we did definitely accomplished what we set out to do. It made us money. Unfortunately for me and my straightness, I need more.Muchmore, if I want to stay living on campus and thus preserve my football scholarship and my inevitable championship.

So here I am, wedged snugly between a rock and a gay place. And I justknowAvi has been texting me all kinds of nonsense about how well the video did and how much the fans are now begging for more…

I feel like a reluctant sex worker who just accepted my first wad of dirty, shameful cash. I loathe the idea of being alone with Avi again, with that camera recording…

But at the same time, I know that hewasright, and I despise it even more for that reason. This seems to be the only way to get the amount of money I need, as fast as I need it.

“You want this…”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallow down the saliva filling my mouth.

“It’s okay to like it, you know…”

“Yo…” Guty’s voice cuts into the hushed words in my head, and I flinch. “You alright?” He’s staring at me with his forehead lined.

Straightening, I shove it all down, sliding the shiny plastic of my mask back into place.

“Yea, I’m good.” The fake smile is so hard to hold sometimes, my entire body wants to collapse. “I’m just thinking about that Duke defense…”

Guty’s look of concern transforms into a cocky grin. “Don’t worry, amigo. Tonight, we’re gonna exorcise those Blue Devils back to North Carolina where they belong.”

He winks at me, and I chuckle. On the surface.

Underneath it is nothing but festeringdoubt.

“Alright, listen up! It’s all lined up for us. We just need to focus.”

Coach’s voice rings loud over the roaring noise of the crowd.

“Gutierrez can break out of their hold, I know he can. But just in case, I want the rest of you gaining as much yardage as possible. They can try to cover you all, but it won’t work.” He aims a serious glare at me. “Harbor, sights on. Show ’em how high Eagles fly.”

He slaps me on the back and I nod, with my mind both rushing like a waterfall and still as a pond. There’s so much riding on this game, the adrenaline and nerves stiffening my muscles.

Bright lights, chaotic noise, all eyes on us. It’s enough stress to crush you if you let it.

But I won’t.