Long Pass Chronicles 01 - Outing the Quarterback (21 page)

Jamal hiked the ball into Will’s hands. His receiver ran into position, dodged their defensive back, Will executed a fallback and passed. Complete. First and ten.
All right
. The crowd cheered and the band played, but the cheerleaders kept quiet again.

Jamal slapped his butt. “Good hands, man.”

“Thanks.”

By the end of the first half, they were ahead 14 to 3. They jogged back to the lockers. He fell onto the bench.
Okay, damn. This isn’t going so bad
.

After some water and an infusion of impetus from the coach, they started the second half. Cal U chose to receive, but Will didn’t mind. Wind at his back, baby. Not a gale, but a good stiff breeze. He sat on the bench while the kicker did his thing.

The water boy, a short, slight sophomore who loved the game, brought a bucket of bottles up to him. “Need more water, Will?”

“No thanks, T.K.” He smiled.

“You gonna do something about all the rumors? People sure are talking. I told one asshole that football players have lots of friends who are guys and he should get a life and talk about somebody else.”

Kicked in the fucking stomach
.
Shit
. “Thanks. I just ignore them. They’re dumb.”

“Yeah. I’ll say.”

Fourth down. He shook his head, rotated his shoulders, and ran on the field.
People were talking. Rumors. Talking.
The end ran in with a play from the coach. Will nodded. Passing play.

Jamal snapped the ball, Will faked a handoff, fell into the pocket, drew back to pass and—fumbled the ball. His own guard fell on it.
Thank God.
Okay, Will, what the fuck
?

Jamal fell back. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You never fumble unless somebody bigger than me just clipped you.” He grinned.

“I know. Sorry.”

The next play went like butter. First and goal.

He set up for a roll out. The defense looked well prepared.

Audible. Run this sucker. “
Twenty-six. Twenty-six. Hut.” He faked to the side. “Hut. Hut.”

The snap. He faked a pass, tucked the ball into his chest and ran, zigzagged left, found an opening. The end zone looked so damned close.

The tackle felt like a freight train. He hit the ground flat on his back, still holding the ball tight. He’d played the man above him before. A mean-ass linebacker but good at his job. The guy stared down at Will. Suddenly his lip curled and his elbow pulled back. Will gasped as the sharp bone smashed into his throat and fire seared into his head like electric shock. He coughed. The linebacker leaned over. “Stay down, fag.”

The man jumped off him and Will rolled onto his stomach, gasping for breath. Which was worse? What he did or what he said? Damn, even as a kid, nobody had called Will fag even as a joke. Now, this asshole thought he could get away with it.

Jamal leaned over him. “You okay? What happened?”

He pointed at his neck. “Elbow.”

“Shit.”

“On purpose.”

The ref ran over. “You okay, Will? Need a medic?”

Jamal knelt beside him. “He took an elbow to the throat.”

The ref raised a hand toward the medical crew.

Will shook his head. “No. I’m okay.” He coughed again.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” He struggled to sit up and climbed to his feet. The fans cheered. He coughed twice more, pulled air in like it was a rare commodity, and coughed again.

He finally stood up straight and walked back to the line of scrimmage. They had a second and goal from the two. Will stared over at the linebacker.
Asshole.

He looked at the plays on his arm, then back at the idiot.

“Forty-seven. Forty-seven. Hut. Hut. Hut.”

Left end in motion. The linebacker shadowed him just like Will planned. Will’s wide receiver moved into the linebacker’s spot, Will popped a short pass, and the guy dove into the end zone.

The crowd went nuts. Will looked over at the linebacker. “Touchdown, asshole.”

Maybe the guy heard him.

The clock ran out. SCU won.

Shit, he should feel way happier. A couple of guys patted his shoulder. Jamal gave him a solid pat. Then they headed for the locker room.

As he and Jamal passed by the bleachers, some reporter leaned over and yelled, “Hey, Will. Is it true you’re gay?”

He wanted to yell, “Fuck you!” Hell, he wanted to hurt the guy. He just kept walking.

Inside, he undressed and took a quick shower. He was halfway dressed when Race Jaston from the
Times
came in. “Hey, Will, Coach said I could have a few minutes if you’ve got time.”

Hell, he wanted to run. Scream. Shit, he wanted to tell the truth. “Sure, Race. I’m gonna keep dressing if you don’t mind.”

“No. I appreciate you talking to me. You got a hot date?”

Will looked at the friendly reporter. Neutral expression. What were the chances? Zero. “Yeah. I do actually.”

“I hear you’re dating Jamal’s sister.”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“Somebody saw a pretty impressive kiss before the game and told me about it.”

Will smiled.
Hope it looks real
. “Yeah. She’s been a friend for a while, and one day I just looked at her with new eyes.”

“I hear she’s a mighty pretty girl.”

“Yeah.”

“So great game, Will. How do you feel about the season opener?”

Okay, this he could do. He fastened the last couple of buttons on his shirt, sat beside Race, and launched into half predictions and half platitudes like all sports commentary.

“It sounds like a great season ahead of us. So tell me about the rumors that you’re gay.”

Shit.
Land mine. Will frowned. “A couple people who don’t like me have worked hard to plant some stories.”

“Not that there’d be anything wrong with it if you were gay.”

“No, that’s exactly right. Except that my girlfriend might be very disappointed.” He flashed an easy smile.
Crap, what a phony
.

Race put away the tablet on which he’d been taking notes. “I’m sure she would. I guess athletes have to put up with a lot of rumors.”

“Yeah. I appreciate you asking and not just buying the load of crap.”

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

Will laughed, shook Race’s hand, and the guy left.

He wanted to vomit. His throat still hurt like fire, but not as much as his heart. He always knew gay guys got crap. Especially gay athletes. But he’d never had to endure it. The inside of the closet looked warm and cozy. If he could get back in it.

Jamal strode over, looking handsome in a white shirt and crisp jeans. “You ready, buddy?”

“Yeah,” he croaked and cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

Jamal really worked up a frown. “Did that asshole hurt you?”

“Not too bad.”

“I should’a stomped him.”

“I think he got his.”

Jamal laughed. “Yeah. Come on, Ev is waiting.”

They opened the locker room door and flashes blinded Will.

“Great game, Will.”

“Hey, Will, what’s with the rumors?”

“Will, what do you have to say about the rumors that you’re gay?”

He scanned the crowd and saw Ev by the wall. “Excuse me, guys.” He walked through the crowd until he got to Ev, kissed her lightly on the lips, and slipped an arm around her waist. Desired effect. More flashes. Some laughter. He turned and gave them a wry smile. “Now what were those questions again?”

“Who’s your girlfriend, Will?”

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press, this is Evangeline Jones, sister of a very good friend.” He grinned and Ev gave them that big smile that stopped traffic. She’d worn white and man, did she look edible
—
if you ate pussy, that is.

Jamal walked over beside his sister, and they answered questions.

Finally, Will held up his hand. “Sorry. I promised this young lady a celebration if we won and I need to deliver. See you all next week for the Michigan game.”

Jamal left with his parents, but the press followed Will and Ev as they walked to the parking lot and he helped her into the Ferrari. Once Ev was settled, he started the car and drove deliberately out of the parking lot.

A block from the university field, her hand covered his on the wheel. “I’m so sorry, Will. This is shit.”

“Yeah. I think it went okay, though, don’t you?” His gut wouldn’t stop shaking like he had jelly in his stomach.

“You were amazing, but this guy who’s harassing you. Can’t you make him stop?”

“I don’t know how. I’m considered a public person and, shit, everything he said was true.”

“What does Noah think about it?”

He got a bad taste in his mouth. “How can he feel? He’s got no experience with this shit. He’s always been out, he doesn’t have parents, nobody expects him to be any way except how he is.”

“That doesn’t mean he hasn’t been harassed. He was in that video too.”

He hadn’t exactly thought of that. “Yeah. Let’s say he’s trying to be understanding.”

“I sure hope you two can make it work. I liked him. I think you really care about him too.”

Will shook his head. “We’re so different.”

“Really? I was only around him for a minute, but you seemed to have a lot in common.”

He glanced at her.
What an idea.

They listened to music, and he covered the distance to Huntington Beach in forty minutes.

As they pulled onto Ev’s street, Will glanced at her. “I’m so sorry to have gotten you into this mess. If you want to back out, I totally get it.”

She gave him a little grin. “I think it’s too late for that. I’m a big part of your cover now, babe, whether we like it or not. Besides, my life was getting too staid and normal. I needed a little excitement.”

“Yeah, right.” He pulled over to her curb.

“Besides, I’m sure all the foundations who hold my scholarships are drooling over me right now. Girlfriend of an American hero.” She grinned. “Of course, I may never be able to convince any girl I’m a lesbian after this.” She laughed. But it wasn’t all that funny.

“I think it’ll die down after tonight.”

“That would be great, sweetie. You coming in?”

“No. I want to call Noah, and I haven’t seen my dad yet.”

“Does he know about all the crap going down?”

“I don’t know. Nothing’s actually made it into the papers yet, and I’m hoping it won’t.”

“Good luck with that.” She raised her hand and sketched out an imaginary headline. “Will Ashford, SCU quarterback and the focus of rumors that he’s gay, today scored a touchdown yada, yada.”

He nodded. “Yeah. That’s how it goes. I know.”

She grinned. “But we’ll keep showing them how straight you are, and maybe they’ll let it go.” She opened the door and swung her legs out.

He grabbed her arm. “Hang on. Let me walk you to the door in case Hascomb is following us.”

“Good idea.”

He climbed out of the car and circled to her side, then helped her out.

She took his arm tightly as they walked. “Do you think we’ll have to fuck in public to convince these people?” She laughed that husky sound.

At the door, she gave him another memorable kiss and Will watched her beautiful butt swing as she stepped inside and closed the door.

He sighed as he walked back to the car. It would be so easy to be straight. Why couldn’t a girl that gorgeous do it for him? Of course, if she did, he’d be in trouble because she wouldn’t want him. Nothing was easy about relationships. Nothing.

Speaking of wanting, he climbed in the car and dialed Noah, then started driving as the phone rang once, twice, three times.
Damn
.

He reached to disconnect, but Noah’s voice came on, yelling over the noise. “Hi. I’m at work.”

“Sorry.”

“We need to talk.”

Oh shit, what now?
“About what?”

“I can’t talk now. I’m balancing a tray. Will you be in class?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll get there early. Meet you in the parking lot. It’s our last class, you know.”

“Shit, I forgot.”

“Masterson will likely unveil his choice for the Milton.”

“Crap.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Will took a breath. “Uh, I miss you.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” Noah hung up.

Well, damn
. Couldn’t he at least have said “miss you too”? Nothing in the fucking world felt right. When did the universe decide Will Ashford was its whipping boy? And now he had to go home, face his father, and think about the Milton all night. His hands felt damp on the steering wheel.

Okay, one thing at a time. He replayed the interaction with the press in his head. No matter how he looked at it, the result came up positive. Thanks to Ev. The woman was so gorgeous and convincing, the reporters and bloggers had to be impressed. Hard to believe anyone could be that kind. If things just calmed down a little, the whole fucking episode would blow over.

All the way from Huntington to Newport, he switched between overthinking the press exchange and worrying about the Milton. Talk about making himself crazy. But since Noah thought he wouldn’t get it, could it mean that Masterson would give it to Will?
Damn
. What an idea. He was certainly one of the top two or three painters in the class. Since it was the master class, Masterson would pick from among them. Oh God, it would change his life to know he could go to any art school in the country next year. Full boat. All paid. No father, no promises, no paybacks. The thought made him dizzy. He wanted Noah to win most—kind of. But if Noah couldn’t win, then let it be him.

He pulled into the massive garage. He’d like to be going out again to see Noah, but too risky. Plus he hadn’t been invited.

He shut off the Ferrari and walked into the kitchen from the garage door. No point sneaking. He’d have to face his father sometime. Sure enough, as he walked down the hall, that familiar voice stopped him. “Will?”

Get it over with
. He stuck his head in the study. “Yeah, Dad.”

“Great game. Proud of you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Anyone can see you’re going to lead the Lions to their best season in years.”