Page 19

CHAPTER 19

ROUX

Y ou have everything?” Lix asks.

I look around my dorm room, but it’s hard to say since we’re surrounded by a dozen boxes. Even my mattress is standing up, leaning against the wall.

“Sure,” I answer.

He chuckles.

I meet his eyes. “Want to stay and help me unpack? Or stay until my roommate gets here so I can make sure he’s not… crazy.” Not Trevor. That’s what I was going to say.

My brother sees right through me. The playful expression on his face softens as he steps closer and takes both my upper arms in his hands. “It’s not Trevor,” he says. Yep, totally read my mind. “You’re never going to see him again.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t even know what happened to him.”

“I know that he’s been ‘neutralized,’ and I’m trusting that.”

“But does that mean like… in jail? Dead? Shipped off to Belize? That doesn’t mean he can’t come back. Except the dead option.”

Lix shakes his head. “I don’t know the specifics, but I trust that he’s not coming back.”

I inhale and try to have his confidence. I chose Rainbow Dorset because it’s queer-centric, close-ish to my brother, has a decent soccer team, and far away from where I met Trevor.

As soon as I got on the plane from Kala and my phone battery was charged enough, I settled in to catch up on whatever I’d been slacking on over the last six weeks. Obviously, the first thing I saw was a text message from an unprogrammed number.

With nothing to do for the three days on the island after Alka and Oscar left, I memorized their phone numbers so I immediately knew that it was Alka. There was one from Oscar later, then a group chat established with the three of us, filled with their thoughts and chatter for three days.

The emotion that overtook me made it hard to breathe for a few minutes. Tears stung my eyes. They were real. Memorizing their phone numbers had been a way of convincing myself I didn’t make them up. This is even better.

So I chatted with them as I checked my email. Lo and behold, I was accepted to Rainbow Dorset just two days ago. I read the email chain between administration and my brother before emailing my brother. Now was the perfect time for a phone call, but on a plane, that wasn’t possible.

We spent the last four days running around to gather everything I needed, making sure I had clothes, soccer gear, textbooks. I’d been auto enrolled in classes based on the core curriculum not met by my transferred credits.

Honestly, I don’t care. I could suffer through a semester with boring, shitty classes. This is a new start. That’s what I keep telling myself.

“You leave anything at home that you can tell?”

I glance around my room. “Hard to say since my boxes are still packed.”

He chuckles. “Look at me, Roux.” I stop looking around and meet his eyes. “You’re safe. He’s not coming back. You will never see him again. And you did forget something at home.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the credit card he’d given me last summer. I might have tried to hide it on the kitchen table under the table mats.

Apparently, they clean under them regularly. Lix gives me a bemused look.

“You lost two years because of this man. You’re not getting a job this year. All you’re doing is focusing on schoolwork, soccer, making friends, and having a good time. I understand you feel guilty about spending my money, but I promise you, I love spoiling you. I love being able to take care of you. You’re my baby brother, and it means a whole lot to me that I have the means to do so.”

Sighing, I take back his credit card. It even has my name on it. He added me to his account and ordered me my own card. “Thanks. I won’t abuse it.”

“I know you won’t. Do you even have a wild bone in your body?”

I roll my eyes and wrap my arms around him. Lix hugs me tightly. For a minute, we stand just like that. “Have I thanked you for taking care of this transfer for me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then… Have I thanked you for this summer on Kala?”

I can hear his smile when he answers, “Yes.”

“Have I thanked you for last summer and the transfer to Longwood U?”

“You thank me a lot, Roux. Yes.”

“I appreciate everything you do for me. Someday, I’m going to be able to show you that.”

“You already show me that.”

Not what I meant, and he knows it. Someday, I will be able to do something for him. Something special. Something where he knows just how much everything he’s done for me, especially over the last year, has truly helped me.

A key in the outside door has my heart jumping. My roommate’s back.

Because this is my third year, I’m considered an upperclassman. That means I’m in the dorms that are more like mini apartments. We’re talking seven hundred square feet at most. Two bedrooms, joint bathroom, and a small living area.

Classes start tomorrow, and since I’d only just found out about my transfer four days ago, I’m obviously a little behind. My roommate was already here but not here when I arrived and while Lix and I moved my shit in.

I take a step back from Lix and hold my breath as the door in the other room opens. I can barely see the edge of it from here as I stare out into the common room we share. It closes with a snap . Footsteps.

Then his face appears, and I almost jump. Maybe I do jump. However, I release the breath I was holding in relief. This is not Trevor. This guy has red hair, freckles, and bright blue eyes.

“Hey,” he says with a big smile. “You made it. I thought I’d be living in this big place all on my own.”

“I’m a late transfer,” I tell him.

“That’s cool. I’m Booker Byrne,” he says as he comes closer to my door.

I wipe my hands on my pants as I walk toward him. We do the whole fist bump greeting. “Roux Kipler,” I say. “This is my brother Lix.”

“Lix,” Booker says, his smile widening. “Awesome name, man.”

Lix chuckles. “Elixon. Most people usually call me Lix. Less vowels and less complicated.”

“No, fair. Hey, I’ll let you get settled. I’m just grabbing my license so I can get on the roster for borrowing school vehicles.”

I nod. “Cool.”

“We’ll catch up later,” he says and heads for his room.

“I may be gone later,” I tell him. “I have soccer, then I’m going to have dinner with my brother before he drives back to L.A. in the morning.”

Booker comes back out of his room. “Soccer, huh?”

I nod .

“Have you seen Coach Lennon yet?”

I shake my head.

“Mm, mm, mm!” He shakes his head. “Beautiful man. Oh, and the assistant, Harper. I go to the games just to see the staff. Stunning.”

Grinning, I shake my head. “It was such a last-minute transfer that I haven’t looked at much other than a map to know where I’m supposed to go.”

“Understandable. I swear I don’t drool over everyone. They’re not objects to drool over. They’re good at their jobs. We have a pretty good soccer team. Wait, why do you have practice today? Term doesn’t officially begin until tomorrow.”

I shrug. “Dunno. For a lot of sports, it’s not unusual for practice and camps to happen before school begins.”

“Huh,” he says. “Good to know. Obviously, I don’t play any.”

“We’ll forgive you,” I say.

He gives me a wide smile. “Thanks, man. Catch you later.”

I wave him off and turn to my brother once he’s gone. “You’re right. Not Trevor.”

“Wouldn’t you know,” he says, turning back into my room.

We get through most of my boxes before I have to head to practice. I stuff clean clothes into a gym bag and my cleats. Lix takes all the empty, broken down boxes on his way out, and I promise to send him a text when I’m off the field and headed for the shower so he can come back to grab me for dinner.

I haven’t texted Alka and Oscar much at all today. Between the long drive that I spent talking to my brother about Kala and my guys, unloading Lix’s car into my room, unpacking, and generally running around, I haven’t had a chance. So I send them a quick text that I’m heading to practice and I’ll call after.

Responses come back immediately.

Oscar

Can’t wait. I want to hear all about it. Miss you.

Alka

Same. I can’t wait to hear your voice again. Have a good practice. Miss you.

Me

Miss you so much!

I sigh and pocket my phone as I approach the sports complex where I’ll supposedly find the locker room. It’s not too hard since I can follow the voices. There’s a note of excitement mixing with nervousness for a new school year. Maybe, like me, there are other new players, so those nerves cover being on a new team, surrounded by brand new people.

As I step into the locker room, the first thing I notice is a lot of chatter. There are rainbows all over the place here, too. I haven’t spent a lot of time looking around campus, but it’s not hard to see that this is the U.N. of queerness. The locker room is no different. Rainbows, like, everywhere. What’s more, the mascot is a unicorn, but it doesn’t look like the image that we’re all used to—innocent, sweet, pure, magical. This thing looks mean.

My locker has my last name on it—R. Kipler. For a minute, I stand in front of it with a smile. There’s no doubt in my mind that Gabe had something to do with me making it onto the team. Was it his endorsement that helped my transfer go through? Between a pro hockey player and a pro soccer player singing my praise, I bet the school gave me unfair consideration that they wouldn’t have extended to others, which means I need to do exactly what Lix says. This year, I focus on what I should be. No abusive boyfriends. No constantly looking over my shoulder.

Taking a breath, I decide that I’m going to dedicate as much of my energy as I can to making this school year great. My grades and my game. I’m going to make both Lix and Gabe proud.

“Coach Lennon said two minutes,” someone calls.

I open my locker and stuff my bag inside. I arrived already dressed for practice. Just need to get my cleats on, so I sit on the bench and listen to everyone talk as I lace up.

I’m regretting not taking a minute to look up my teammates on the school website now as my teammates who clearly returned from last year talk about the coaching staff and what they think we’ll be doing today. I enjoy their banter and teasing as much as the information I’m gleaning from their conversation.

Once my cleats are on, I get to my feet and follow the crowd. However, a photograph on the wall makes me freeze in my tracks as my eyes home in on a single man in the group picture. A smile that I’ve memorized, dreamed of, since meeting him.

I get closer to stare at the picture. It’s clear by what he’s wearing—not the unicorns uniform—that he’s the coach.

“That’s last year’s team,” someone says, stopping at my side. He points at the different people. “Assistant Coach Harper, and that’s one of the athletic trainers, Declan Whitaker—he’s so fucking hot, man. Coach Alka.”

My heart stops, and I don’t hear anything he says after that. His finger continues to move around the picture, but it’s blurred. All I see is one man. Coach Alka. “Alka Lennon,” I murmur, remembering what Booker had called my coach back in our dorm.

“Yep,” he says and claps my shoulder. “Hurry up. He’ll make you do laps if you’re late.”

I nod, but I can’t convince my feet to move as I stare at Alka. Alka Lennon. My Alka Lennon. College soccer coach, which I already knew.

It occurs to me that I don’t know some very key information about this man I’ve been falling for. His last name, for example. Where he works. He probably knows mine, though. I’ve told him who my brother is. Does he know I’m here?

I turn on my heel and rush back to my locker to pull out my phone and call Alka. I think we’re going to have a problem. My stomach threatens to roll as the phone rings. I strain my ears to see if I can hear Alka’s phone ring from somewhere beyond the locker room. My eyes dart between doors, waiting for him to step out.

“Hey, Ruby,” he answers, and I flinch. Fuck, I’ve never corrected him on my name.

“Hey, so, I need to ask you something.”

“I’m heading out to the pitch right now. I’m going to have to call you back. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. “No, this is important. What’s your last name? Where do you work?”

“Lennon,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “Rainbow Dorset University. Yes, that’s a real place.”

I might have laughed any other time. “Alka, I need to tell you something.”

“Is it an emergency?”

Kinda. It is, right?

“No,” I say, though I’m not convinced.

“Sweetheart, I swear I would give anything to be able to take a few minutes to talk to you, but I can’t right now. My team is gathered. I’ll call you directly after. I promise. Okay?”

I close my eyes. “Yeah. My name is Roux Kipler.”

“Roux. Not Ruby.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I have a reason.”

“We’ll talk about it after. I promise.”

I chew my lip. “Okay. See you soon.”

“Soon,” he promises, like he has every time we’ve talked. He hangs up. I dump my phone in my locker, slam the door, and run out onto the pitch.

There he is, stuffing his phone into his pocket. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s about to learn that when I said soon this time, I meant in about thirty seconds.

Oh fuck!