Page 24

Twenty-three

Ryder

P roving my superstitions correct because I couldn't get off with Knox, or even his alter ego HandyManCan, before this game, I played like shit against Seattle. It fucking sucked to realize I didn't want to find another anonymous hookup on Vers because it wouldn't have been the man I wanted. Three goals got past me in the first period alone before I could even get my head in the game. Seattle was on fire and got another two goals in the second and third periods, while we could only score three goals the whole game.

It was embarrassing as shit, and Coach threatened to replace me with Magnus if I let another in, which would have been warranted. I sucked out there and I hate losing. I’m just glad he didn't pull me for media after the game where I would have been roasted for my shitty performance, and all I could have said for myself is sorry, I’m in a fight and I didn’t come with my best friend like I needed to so we lost . That would have gone over so well.

I’m tired and grumpier than usual as I get a post-game workout in, trying to clear my head, but I’m still mad as hell. My teammates are giving me a wide berth to avoid me snapping at them. I’ve been staying with Westy and his guestroom sucks. I can’t fucking sleep when I’m there. It doesn't feel like home, and I hate that Knox’s condo even felt like that in the first place.

“Hey, Kingsy, looks like you were right about Knox Contraire after all,” Rook calls from across the gym. I look up from the exercise bike I’m riding to find him waving his phone at me from the treadmill. “Did you see this story in the Atlanta Free Press? He came out publicly.”

My heart rate spikes even though I’ve been trying to keep it steady on the bike. Knox came out? For real? Why would he do that?

“Weren’t you living with him? You’re friends. Did he bring guys over?” Campbell asks from the bike beside me. He sounds more curious than anything.

“No. He never brought anyone over,” I growl, but I’m barely paying attention as I pull my phone out of my pocket and search for the newspaper where Lilah works and find the article, scanning it before I read through in detail.

Knox Contraire on Coming Out Later in Life

By Lilah Williams

One thing that can be said about the star tight end for the Atlanta Condors is that his sexual identity has never been a consideration within his football career. Known for his encouraging pep talks and motivating spirit, Knox Contraire is well-loved by his teammates, performs well under pressure, and has helped Atlanta progress to the playoffs four of the five seasons he has played for the Condors. His track record has more than proven his worth within the organization, and his field time shows it. You could say he’s a model player. But he’s had a secret that until recently, no one could even guess.

A shocking viral video put a spotlight on Contraire that suddenly told a different story—one that painted him as a man who was living a lie but lacked any substance or veritas to explain what could have made the storyteller step forward in the first place. “I was the victim of bullying for what people thought of me for years. This video felt like a visit back to high school,” Contraire said with a shrug at a local coffee shop. “That’s part of why I didn't want to come out sooner. I knew how bad it was for me without saying a word about my sexuality. I couldn’t imagine it would be any better if I came out as gay and lived that truth, so I stayed silent and didn’t rock the boat. I wanted to make life easier for everyone.”

Contraire defaults to this selfless mindset in all aspects of his life. On the field, he is the first to give credit to his teammates for the plays he was instrumental in. Off the field, his free time is spent volunteering with various organizations around the city, from local garden projects to literacy programs, and even Meals On Wheels deliveries to seniors.

“I knew it had to get better,” Contraire said about why he didn’t give up despite years of bullying. “Sports saved me. Football gave me an outlet and a place to be when I needed a team. Even through the hardest times of my life when I couldn't depend on my team for the support I needed, I could depend on the sport itself.”

So why come out now? “The viral video made me realize I’d let others determine how I lived my life for too long. I stayed quiet and took the bullying in high school because I didn’t have another choice, but I do now. I don't have to hide that I’m a professional athlete who happens to be gay. My sexuality has never stopped me from playing well, and it won't change that now that I’m out. I want to find love and be proud of the man by my side, not hide that I even have feelings for him.”

What’s next for the NFL star? With a self-deprecating laugh, Contraire gestures around vaguely. “I don't expect anything to change, not on my team, or in the sport at large. I just want to play the game I love, with a team I believe in, and leave my personal life off the field where it belongs. I’ve always treated my career in sports as a profession, and I’ll continue doing my best so I can build a life for a future family. I hope to make someone very happy someday, and it starts with me showing up as the man I’ve always wanted to be, so he’ll see he can, too.”

It’s as simple as that for Contraire. His personal life doesn't affect his time on the field. Now he’s free to experience the fullness that life offers without hiding parts of himself to make others more comfortable. As we leave the coffee shop, Contraire appears even taller than his impressive six-foot-six frame, his head held higher, and a new light in his eyes as he takes in the world around him. A world that just opened up by coming out, and it’s remarkable to watch.

I close the browser on my phone. He said he wants to find love and not hide his feelings. Is he taking a swipe at me because I won’t tell him how I feel? Did he come out like this to show me he’s over me and not going to wait for me to get my shit together?

I hop off the bike and abandon the cooldown workout. I need to go home. Fuck! I run a hand through my hair. I don't even have a home to go to, just Westy’s lumpy guest room mattress and curtains that don’t close all the way, so light streams in around them and I can’t nap properly before games.

“It’s a nice article. Good for him, right? Dude seems cool,” Westy says, looking up from his phone as I pass him.

“Shut it,” I snap.

As I head back to the locker room, I think through Knox’s motivations. Maybe this has nothing to do with me. It feels personal, but it doesn't have to be. The idea of him wanting to make someone happy someday is driving me insane. He shouldn't be with anyone else. He’s always been mine…

Am I really going there?

I can’t put any claim on Knox, no matter what the screaming voice in my head, or maybe it’s my dick, seems to think. Not when I was the one too scared to tell him I wanted him. I was too much of a coward to embrace the part of me that thinks divergently, feels more, and looks different from what I was told I should want or need.

“Care to comment on my latest piece, Kingston?”

I look up to find Lilah leaning against the wall outside the locker room, looking professional in a tailored black pantsuit with a bright red shirt that matches her lips, her hair up in a high ponytail. She’s the last person I want to talk to right now, but maybe she has answers for me.

“Why did Knox do that?” I ask. “Off the record. I’m not speaking to you as an athlete and a reporter. This is only because we’re kind of friends.”

She smirks. “Kind of friends? That’s so compelling.”

“You know what I mean,” I say, jamming my fingers back in my sweaty hair. I could use a shower badly and I’m sure Lilah smells me, but she’s the one waiting for me, so she’ll have to deal.

“Knox said what he needed to in the article. He wanted to tell his story after hiding and letting others tell it for so long. He’s done with that. What did you think of it?” she asks.

“I think it’s crazy. He didn’t have to go public like that. Now everyone knows his business when it shouldn't matter,” I say. “It’s going to change his life.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what he wanted,” Lilah says with a smile that is too knowing. I hate that she has the inside scoop on Knox, and I can’t ask her anything that would tell her how I’m feeling. “He’s showing up as the man he’s always wanted to be, so the person he’ll be with someday sees they can, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap, pacing the width of the hallway.

“It’s an indirect quote from Knox in the article. He knows he has to come out and live as a gay man publicly and proudly to ensure whoever he ends up with feels comfortable being with him, since he’s a public figure and all.”

Is that why he did it? That’s insane. But it does make some sense, I guess. “Is he okay? Has he gotten a lot of shit from people?” She’ll know exactly what I’m not saying aloud. I’m really asking if people are being shitty like I was when that person caught me on video and my remarks went viral. I hate that I started something that could come back to haunt Knox now that he’s trying to live boldly. He doesn't deserve even one rude comment about him.

Comments on the Hydras’ social media from Pride Night were mixed. Plenty of fans were supportive and liked our initiative, while others were super hateful. Comments like stick to hockey, no longer a fan, this is sick, when is straight night, not watching, and ridiculous! It’s one thing to be gay, which I have nothing against, but now you’re forcing players to wear those jerseys? That’s a no for me were common enough during the campaign. All the jerseys were auctioned off and brought in thousands of dollars for Outlanta, and direct donations topped another twenty thousand, which was more than we expected. Westy, Campbell, Rook, and Nico even offered to join me in volunteering at some other events Outlanta is putting on, so we will continue the Hydras partnership. They’re a really cool foundation and I like what they’re doing.

“He’s okay,” she says, her face serious, whiskey eyes swimming with emotion. She waves a hand in the air and blows out a breath as she continues. “There’s the expected vitriol from sports fans who don't want to see anything but the status quo and say they’re not interested in a player’s sex life, yet don't make a peep when a girlfriend or wife is shown on a Jumbotron or talked about in an interview, so you know they just don't want to see anything gay in their face. But there has been some good stuff, too. A few new sponsors reached out, and he has some unexpected opportunities presented that weren't in his plan. Overall, I think it’s been positive. He’s happy.”

He’s happy without me , is what I hear loud and clear, and that feels like a knife to my heart. He’s better without me dragging him down. “Thanks, Lilah,” I say, nodding and swallowing the hard lump in my throat.

“You should reach out to him,” she offers as I head into the locker room. I just lift a hand to let her know I heard her.