Page 83 of Out of Bounds

Cliff thought back to his talk with Brennan last night. The gay part of himself made him do very dirty things, but it also made him wonderful and interesting in ways he wanted to explore.

“I don’t think I can talk about this.”

“Why not?”

Cliff held back. He got a sick feeling looking at the piece of paper.

“The guys on the team party after games. Isn’t that wrong?”

“You guys deserve it. You’re young men blowing off some steam.”

Cliff wanted to scream about what a hypocrite he was, but he knew he’d be wasting his breath. He folded up the paper and handed it back.

“I don’t feel comfortable saying this.”

Mr. Wyndham gave him a stern look that shook Cliff to his core. “Why not?”

Cliff suddenly felt like a little kid getting reprimanded by an adult. The words were on his tongue, but he knew not to say them. If Mr. Wyndham discovered he was gay, he’d probably get him booted off the team, probably out of the school, too. He seemed that powerful.

“There are kids at Browerton who are gay, bi, trans, queer who are thriving and living good lives.”

Mr. Wyndham raised his eyes like Cliff was crazy. “Those kids are degenerates. The media may say otherwise, but people like us, we know the truth. They’re messed up deep down, and this is how it manifests.”

Cliff looked at the kids sitting in the front pews. He wondered how many of them were struggling with their sexuality, how many of them were as lost and confused as Cliff. How many would feel a deep well of shame and disgust because of this speech?

“I don’t think I should say this. I appreciate your help, but I’ve already practiced mine, and I think it encompasses what we’re both trying to say.”

“I think it would mean a lot if you did.” Mr. Wyndham stared at Cliff’s hand in the air between them trying to hand back the paper.

“It’s not right. It’s actually backwards thinking.”

Mr. Wyndham’s face tightened with anger. “This is important to me. I would hate to tell Coach Trainor and the dean that you aren’t being a team player.”

His eyes glowed with unbridled confidence that money brought him. He was not somebody who heard the word no. Cliff realized he wasn’t leaving this building without saying what Mr. Wyndham wanted him to say.

28

BRENNAN

Today was only half over, but it already ranked as one of the all-time best days in Brennan’s life. First, there was the spectacular sex he had early this morning, and the conversation that preceded it. After Paul, after the hurt of feeling discarded, he didn’t think he could ever open his heart to another person. But he was falling in love with Cliff Warner. Full stop.

Then this afternoon, Professor Adamson summoned him to her office and shared the good news. His artwork was selected for the Quarterly Showcase next week. It was a dramatic turnaround from the creative desert he found himself in at the start of the quarter.

When he left Gorman Hall, he picked up a copy of theBrowerton Buglefrom the disheveled stack in the lobby.Meet Browerton’s New Freshman Hoops All-Starread the teaser headline for the sports section.

“Oh, I’ve already met him. And then some,” Brennan said to himself as he shoved a newspaper in his bag. He was the only one who could make the new big man on campus squeal and moan in an ungodly spectrum of noises.

Brennan practically floated back to his loft and scrambled to get it cleaned up. Cliff was coming over for his first art lesson since before Thanksgiving. It was the first time he’d been to the loft in weeks, and Brennan was buzzing with excitement like it was a first date.

He picked up a pizza on his way home for them to eat. He knew how busy Cliff was; he wanted to make the most of their time together. Brennan didn’t even mind walking home in the freezing cold and snow. Sure, he didn’t have Florida anymore, but he had Cliff.

At seven on the dot, Cliff buzzed from the sidewalk.

“It’s Browerton’s new hoops all star!” Brennan said when Cliff got upstairs. He went in for a sumptuous kiss and received a blink-and-you-missed-it peck.

Cliff took off his snow-covered sneakers, beelined to the kitchen table, and put down his backpack.

“What a week.” Brennan slid his door shut.