Page 26

TUCKER

Dinner Sunday.

Awesome.

Just great. My heart raced as I stared at the text in my lap. I was curled up half awake and half dressed in my bed with Josh sleeping in the bed across from me. His hair stuck to his forehead, matted against the crusted cut on his cheek.

It looked painful—but he looked peaceful.

He had exposed so much about himself sitting on the floor in the closet the night before that I didn’t even see that mean, cocky pitcher anymore. My opinion of him hadn’t necessarily changed—but it had shifted, there was an understanding now that wasn’t there before. A reason why he was the way he was.

I just wish I had his courage.

Maybe if I had some of that unbridled rage I wouldn’t be such a coward about facing my family. Mom’s silence was deafening, it had practically woken me up at three am just thinking about it. Stewing preemptively in her disappointment. I flipped my phone over and rolled back in my bed to stare at the ceiling.

I knew that eventually everything had to come out, that the press would figure it out. Cael and I hadn’t necessarily been careful about things. We were quiet when we needed to be, but we had never cared at parties or on the road. It was just a matter of time before the world outside the Nest put the puzzle pieces together.

Dean Tucker, gay.

I could see the words written in dark ink across the newspaper's front page.

There would be more tact to it.

Some may even spin it to make it a humanitarian piece.

But most would use my sexual orientation as rage bait; it would give cause to blame whatever faults that arise during the season on me. It was unfair, and bullshit but true. It was human nature to be afraid of something they didn’t understand. I just wish more people were willing to learn before they cast judgment.

“Why are you awake?” Josh’s voice was husky and full of sleep.

I don’t answer him, keeping my eyes closed. We had enough sharing secrets for the last twenty-four hours, and whatever advice he might have, I’d heard it before.

Be honest.

Be brave.

Be you.

It was all nonsense from people who didn’t understand the consequences of being those things with people who only cared about how it made them look.

“I know you’re awake, you aren’t snoring,” he said.

“I don’t snore,” I muttered, opening my eyes to look over at him, still tucked tightly against his pillow with his jaw nestled into the loose collar of his old hoodie. Even in his sleep, he protected his skin, and it made me unreasonably sad.

It was too hot in the Nest to be sleeping like that. I was sweating in my pajama pants and I could see the beads of sweat that stuck to his neck as he pushed up on his elbow to look over at me. The moonlight was fading as the sun started to rise and it was casting the prettiest shade of purple into the room that made Josh glow.

“Alright, up,” he grumbled and flipped his blankets back.

“What?”

“Get. Up.”

I stared at him for a few minutes longer as he shuffled across the room and pressed his feet into his sneakers left by the door.

“If you’re going to keep us awake, we might as well go for a run,” he explained. "The fresh air and forced exercise will guilt you into telling me why you’re not sleeping, or eating.” His eyes rolled over my chest as I rose from bed, he looked around, and when he found what he was looking for, a sweater was hurled at my head.

“Put some clothes on,” he sighed.

I laughed under my breath and pulled on the sweater, grabbing a clean pair of sweats. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame with his eyes closed. No doubt still fighting away the sleep as I tied my shoes in double knots.

Stretching out as I stood I took in Josh one last time in the cover of darkness, admiring the way his sleepy curls stuck to the sweaty nape of his neck and how grumpy he looked with his hands shoved into his sweater pocket.

He led the way from the Nest without a word, the cold spring air hit my face instantly startling me from my sluggish state. For a while the only sound between us was the pounding of our shoes on the pavement and the occasional songbird. It was too early for much else. As we rounded the base of the hill the sun had started to peek over the roof of the stadium and melt the thin layer of frost that covered the steel structure.

Josh pushed the pace, barely even fazed by the frigid air in his lungs as he swiped his card on the players entry and opened the door for me. We slowed down into the tunnels and when we came to the entrance of the field he stopped, staring out at the grass and inhaled.

“The only place I feel normal is on a baseball diamond,” he confessed quietly.

There was a lot that came out of Josh’s mouth that I didn’t understand, even less that I could relate to. But the feeling of complete contentment that settled over me during a game was different. It was the only place I could control my actions and the outcomes of what was next.

There was no anxiety, no stress. It was just me and the ball.

And thousands of screaming fans.

The diamond was a safe place. A place where I could feel like a god despite everything going on outside in the world. But today it felt like a coffin.

The clock on the scoreboard blinked five am, people would be watching the news.

Watching the highlights.

Soon my face would be plastered across every TV in Harbor.

The panic that rose was violent and red across my vision. It felt like the sirens were blaring, and I couldn’t focus on what was in front of me with all the noise.

“Come feel normal, Tuck.” His voice was softer than I’d ever heard it, but still demanding and it made my skin itch to deny him. “Just for a little longer.”

Josh had stepped out from under the tunnel onto the grass and was looking over his shoulder at me, frozen in place with my chest heavy. It was like he knew what had choked me up, and gone was the mean demeanor he usually carried, replaced with that guy huddled in the closet staring up at me with fear and disgust for himself in his eyes.

We were so different—and somehow, so alike.

“My family didn’t know,” I said, my throat felt so dry. “My mom had ideas, there were a few incidents last year, but for the most part she thought it was just my rebellious stage…”

“You, rebellious?” He scoffed.

When I didn’t find amusement in his joke, he watched me with curious intent and turned around to face me completely, his back to the field and our hearts perfectly parallel.

“They didn’t know what?” He asked.

“Don’t be an asshole,” I sighed.

Josh stared at me.

“Say it, Dean. They didn’t know what?” he pressed. “That you were sucking Cael’s dick in the locker room?”

“Fuck off, Josh.” My voice cracked.

“That you have a laundry list of ass under your belt,” he sneered.

“Enough,” I growled.

“What do you think is going to happen when your mommy finds out that her little golden boy is a—”

“Shut up!” I cut him off.

“No, you think that the press will stop at one politely worded question?” Josh growled. "They’re going to pick you apart like vultures, you’ll be nothing but bones when they’re done with you!”

“I can—”

“Avoid it? You're captain, Dean, there’s no avoiding this anymore!” Josh reminded me and put his arms out at his side, a smug smile on his face. “Hudson was the tip of the iceberg, the homophobia that you saw yesterday is nothing compared to what runs deep in this league, and that’s when they all thought you were normal .” He said it like an insult. “You don’t get to pretend you’re straight anymore, you have to lead the way!”

“Why me?” I snapped. "Let someone else do it!”

“Coach Cody chose you for a reason,” Josh said. “It wasn’t just because you’re a pretty face.”

“I’m a good ball player.” I shrugged, my emotions were frayed and sparking like live wires.

“You’re gay, Tuck!” Josh yelled.

“Shut the fuck up before someone hears you!” I snapped.

“Own it!” He demanded. “Why is it theirs to control?” He asked.

“It’s not,” I argued, and he stepped forward, the shadows casting over his face as he re-entered the tunnel.

“Then why do they shame you for it? Why do you let them?” He asked.

“I don’t.” I shook my head, but I could feel his question slithering around under my skin.

“You do, you let them tell you how to feel. You aren’t in control, Tuck.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” I said, the frustrating mounting. “You’re mouthy for a guy in the same position.”

“I’m bi-sexual, no one even believes my sexuality is real. I’m just an attention whore, a slut, a fuck bag,” Josh’s voice was sick with anger. “And I’m not the captain, they don’t care about where I stick my dick.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation.” I stepped back and tried to inhale but it was like all the air had been sucked from the stadium. “Not with you.”

He ignored me with a smile on his face.

“If you control it, control the narrative, then you control the emotions. You want to pretend that you have a handle on everything, and for a while there, I questioned whether or not you were even human, but I see the cracks now.”

“Stop it,” I said to him, my jaw clenched to keep from crying and my hands balling into a fist. “You can’t force me to tell them!”

“Maybe,” he admitted, “but it’s too late for confessions.” Josh continued his slow, methodical steps. “They run the news at five am. Highlights start right after the weather. You left your phone at Dansby House, but it’s probably ringing. How many missed calls from your dad before you fall apart?”

I hated how easily he dissected it all.

I needed him to stop, I couldn’t catch my breath, and the dread seeped into my bones.

“Own it before they take it from you,” Josh demanded. He moved forward some more, completely unaware of our closeness in his effort to make me see what he saw. “Come on, Tuck, who are you? After they pull you apart for the good of their own twisted morals, who the hell is Dean Tucker?”

“Son,” I whispered.

“No,” he stopped me. “Who are you, not who do you want to be for them? ”

“Captain,” I corrected myself with a short nod, and Josh watched me carefully, his dark eyes flickering between mine. “Friend,” I added.

“What else?” He pushed.

The word was there. I knew what he wanted, but I wasn’t sure that I could take control of that just yet. Even in the face of his certainty, I just…

“Come on, Tuck, don’t be a coward.” His voice was so low and demanding.

“Gay,” I whispered it—my breath ragged, heart racing. “I’m gay.”

“That’s right,” Josh’s eyes flickered to my lips. “Don’t move,” he said quietly, and all I wanted to do was obey.

I stayed perfectly still as he lifted his chin and captured my bottom lip between his. The kiss was more gentle than before, slow and soft without the harsh intrusion of his tongue. His fingers relaxed, and for a second, they brushed against my chest as his teeth dragged over my bottom lip, and he pulled away.

“What was that for?” I asked him.

“It was necessary,” he said simply before going back out onto the field and leaving me wanting more from him.